#i also think eddie just wants to sit on the floor again and not be part of anything. and at the same time take care of these two.

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 10.1 - magic man

Rating: mature (angst, language)

Word Count: 1800

A/N: this is the epitome of drama. sorry, not sorry.

☾

Cold, late night so long ago When I was not so strong you know A pretty man came to me I never seen eyes so blue You know, I could not run away it seemed We'd seen each other in a dream

☾

February 14, 1984 - junior year

Eddie tapped his pencil on the desk with nothing but resentment.

After school detention was a literal hell. His punishment was to write lines, I will not vandalize school property, over one hundred times on the paper in front of him. But it wasn't his handwriting, or his paper, or even the detention itself, that irritated him.

It was the fact that you were in there with him, sitting a mere four desks away, and he hadn't heard a goddamn word from you in over two months.

He stewed over what you could possibly be writing lines for. Have you ever even been assigned detention before? A few punishments popped into his mind that he thought you deserved.

I will not abandon so-called friends.

I will not be the epitome of avoidance.

I will not ignore Eddie Munson in the halls every fucking day.

I will not make out with a man on New Year's Eve then literally act like he's a stranger the next day.

The pencil suddenly snapped in his hand, and Eddie threw the pieces on the floor.

Mr. Eulin, the unfortunate teacher supervising this detention, immediately saw this. Eddie could have snorted with arrogance at the fact that Eulin actually looked up from his Anne Rice novel to shoot him a nasty glare.

"Munson, pick that up or it's another detention for you tomorrow."

"Oh, woe is me."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, sir."

"That's what I thought. Now clean up the mess."

Eddie looked towards the windows, bright warm light shining through the dusty panes of glass. It was a freezing February day in Hawkins, but the sun seemed to wish differently.

He knew that you were looking at him. He could feel your eyes on him, even though you were a few rows back. Anger rose up, like a disease feasting on its victim, his stomach turning over. There was no controlling it now.

Lacing his words with instigation, he touched the piece of paper in front of him, crumpling it slightly. 

"Sir, I would much rather watch Buckley pick up the pieces."

Eulin stared at him again, his bushy eyebrows rising up in surprise as he flopped his book on the desk. 

He knew he was already dead set on another detention. Like a wrongfully accused prisoner on death row, Eddie Munson felt the need to be vindicated. What else did he have to lose? It was fucking Valentine's Day, of all days, and your stare on the back of his head in detention was burning holes through his skull.

"Now, why on God's green Earth would your fellow student do that? You got a bug up your ass, Munson?"

"Maybe. There's definitely something up there, sir. Wanna check?"

The old man before him nearly had an aneurysm. Exactly what Eddie wanted. He didn't even need to turn his head to see your reaction, he could literally hear you fidgeting in your chair, picking at your fingers.

 "Munson! Out, now. Let's go, tough guy." Eulin stood up, pointing at the door.

Faking reluctance, Eddie also rose from his desk. All of the students in the room were focused on him now. Honestly, he just wanted an excuse to get the fuck out of the same room that you were in.

Before leaving the classroom, Eddie balled up the paper on his desk and chucked it at you. It hit your chest, making you jump, but you still refused to look him in the eye.

In the hallway, Eulin still had his index finger out, this time in Eddie's face.

"You think you're untouchable, don't you?"

Eddie leaned against the locker behind him and didn't respond. He turned his head away from the educational professional trying to verbally assault him.

"Munson. Listen up. You're going to end up just like your father. Doesn't surprise me one bit that you're in detention every other week these days. I would shoot myself in the foot before I'd believe you would graduate."

Inching closer to Eddie, Eulin's face began to redden. At the close proximity, Eddie visibly flinched, resisting the urge to bitch slap the man with a fat finger too close to his face.

"You are the scum of Hawkins."

☾

"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile "You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand, I'm a magic man"

☾

The classroom door was already open, but you slammed it against the wall anyways.

"Fuck you, Eulin."

Taking a step back from the brown eyed boy on the lockers, Eulin was stunned to see another one of his students beginning to cause a scene.

"Girl, you better get back in the-"

You laughed rudely, immediately interrupting him. "You think I'm going to let you talk to him like that?"

"What's going on here? Buckley, get back in that classroom," Eulin choked out.

Eddie stared unabashedly at you. One hand was clenched in a fist, ready to go down swinging at his teacher's harsh words. His other hand rose to his own mouth in shock.

But you ignored Eddie's presence, as usual. You just hounded Eulin.

"Sir, I'm not going back in there." 

Your words were polite on paper, but the tone of your voice was the exact opposite. Eulin seemed as speechless as Eddie. 

A few seconds of stuttering, and Eulin finally found a comeback. "Buckley, don't you dare get involved in this. Don't be a failure like Munson."

Eddie audibly gasped as you actually spit in the teacher's face, saliva dripping down Eulin's cheek.

"Fuck. You." 

And then you were gone, rushing down the hallway towards the doors leading outside.

☾

Winter nights we sang in tune Played inside the months of moon "Never think of never let this spell last forever" Well, summer lover passed to fall Tried to realize it all Mama says she's worried, growing up in a hurry

☾

"Buckley! Buckley! Helloooo, feral woman on the loose!" 

Eddie ran after you, abandoning detention, abandoning Eulin standing dumbstruck in the hallway. He finally caught up with you as you made your way through the parking lot, your hair flying in the frosty wind.

"Hey!" he touched your shoulder, trying to slow you down. "Will you talk to me?"

You shrugged his hand off and kept walking. "What's there to talk about? Eulin's an asshole. End of story."

"Oh, sunshine, I think there's a lot that needs to be discussed between us."

"No idea what you're rambling on about," you mumbled.

"You gonna ignore me for another two months?"

You almost paused for a second. Eddie knew your mind was racing, he could see how tensed your muscles were as you stormed past the parked cars. 

Eddie continued to poke at your temper. "Where are you even going? You don't have a car, you don't have a license. You don't even know how to drive!"

Turning on him in a flash, the look in your eyes made Eddie stop in his tracks. 

"Maybe I'd know how to drive if you actually taught me like you said you would!"

Eddie snorted. "C'mon, now. That's not what this is about. People don't just spit on teachers because they're butt hurt about not being able to drive."

You threw your hands in the air, let out a frustrated laugh, and stomped away. "You're the one who brought up the license thing! You're such an infuriating creature."

But Eddie was surprised to see you stop right at his van, which was parked at the back of the lot. You sat on the rear bumper.

Now it was his turn to be dumbstruck. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, Eddie," you exclaimed sarcastically. "Take me home, will you?"

☾

"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile "I cast my spell of love on you, a woman from a child" But try to understand, try to understand Oh, oh, try, try, try to understand, He's a magic man, oh, he's got the magic hands

☾

Instead of taking you back to your own house, Eddie drove towards Forest Hills trailer park. He knew that you were confused, but you remained silent in his passenger seat the entire drive, peeling some paint off the trim of the door.

The van came to an abrupt halt in the grassy area of his uncle's trailer. Eddie could see a few small kids running around the other homes, screaming and playing.

He was struck with nostalgia from his childhood, back when things weren't complicated by a doomed future and unruly hormones and a drunk father in jail for dealing drugs.

"Why'd you bring me here?" you uttered quietly, ripping him from his tortured thoughts.

"This is my home now, Buckley. If you would have been a good friend the last couple months, you'd know I moved in with my uncle a little sooner than I anticipated."

Eddie didn't try to hide the bitterness in his voice. He wanted you to know how hurt he was. Before you could get a word in, he snapped on you.

"Did you even think about checking on me when my dad went to jail? The whole damn town was talking about it. I'm really living up to the infamous Munson name, aren't I? I'm a pariah, a phenomenon."

You chewed on your lip, staring heatedly out of the window. "Of course I thought about you."

Gripping the steering wheel, he was seething. "So why have you been ignoring me? You act like New Year's never happened. So help me God, if you don't answer-"

"You know why I was in detention?"

Distracted, Eddie's leg bobbed with anxiety. "No, but you've piqued my interest."

"Eulin caught me trying to put something in your locker this morning."

"Something? What something? Why would that land you in detention?"

You huffed. "A letter. And I got detention because I wouldn't give it to him."

Eddie thought for a moment and laid his hand out dramatically. "May I have my letter, then?" 

You gently slapped his outstretched palm away from you.

"No," you replied offhandedly. "I tossed it."

He rolled his big brown eyes and opened the driver's side door, hopping out. The snow crunching underneath his boots was harsh. The cold air filled his lungs, forcing his nerves to calm and bringing him back to some kind of reality.

Walking around to the passenger side, he opened your door for you. 

"Come inside, then. I can make us some hot chocolate."

☾

But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand, he's a magic man

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Magic Man" by Heart)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

taglist: @siriuslysmoking @emesis-nemisis @ishouldclean @thegirlblogstuff @amandaauroraelli @melonmonstereater @well-be-okay-dear-valentine @maridevial @sp1dyb0y1008 @totallynani @the-historical-biscuit2468 @borhapgirlforlife19 @insert-geeky-things-here @daggerdear @mewchiili @nvrendfangirl @lausnotverybright @psychotickoda @hiimerinhime @salvinaa @heyyallitsnaomi

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

[flowercrowngods]

i’ve decided to send an ask for each story you posted in the wip game kdnehdhs who did this to you? lives rent free in my brain 💛💛 (@a-little-unsteddie)

thank you so much 🥰🤍 still slowly working my way through the asks, so have a few more words to make up for the wait 🫶

who did this to you (pt.4) // tales of blue part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | read on ao3 🌷 preceding snippet no 1. | no. 2

Finally, finally, the familiar sound of Wayne‘s old truck rounding the corner into the trailer park interrupts the tense silence that seems to have fallen over all of Forest Hills tonight, and Eddie has half a mind to run out there, run toward them and get the whole story. Just to be sure that everything is fine. Just to be sure that Steve’s still… That he’s still there.

He stays right where he is, though, staring at Buckley‘s wild hair, feeling her shadow walk over him as Wayne pulls up to their driveway and stops. She is right in the centre of the headlights, but still she doesn’t move. Eddie wants to scream at her. Wants to nudge her and shove her out of the way — imagines it, imagines all the alternate universes in which he finds her wide eyes scared and unseeing as Wayne‘s voice sounds behind them, telling them that Steve didn’t make it.

Except in this one, Wayne said they’re coming home. In this one, shit like that doesn’t happen to eighteen year-old boys and their friends.

Aside from that girl. Barbara Holland.

Eddie swallows, his eyes flitting between bright lights to the silhouette of Buckley right in their centre. Like a doe, he thinks. Terrified of what she’ll find.

Don’t you wanna know? Eddie wants to ask her. Don’t you wanna see? What are you afraid of? What did you see? Who is he, Robin, and who are you? Why the fuck won’t you move?

In the end, it is the sound of a car door slamming shut that snaps Buckley out of her stupor, and she all but flies off the steps towards the truck. Towards where Eddie can vaguely make out the shape of a badly bruised face, the play of light and darkness not enough to conceal the deep purple splotches or the sluggishness of his movements as he raises his head. Turning toward Buckley like a flower to the sun.

She presses her hand to the window for a second, just looking at him — and Eddie is glad he can’t see either of their faces. He has a feeling that what he’d see there would haunt him forever.

#steddie fic #steddie #who did this to you #who did this to you part 4 #make me write ask game #i don’t. i don’t know why this is suddenly so dark. but maybe it’s because eddie‘s not important anymore #and he knows. but he wants to crawl his way back to being in the situation just as badly as he wants to run from it #and i think that’s just. scary. petrifying. he doesn’t need to be brave now he doesn’t need to be strong for anyone. #because robin and steve have each other now and he knows snd its fine bc he doesn’t know them yknow but. #i also think eddie just wants to sit on the floor again and not be part of anything. and at the same time take care of these two. #he also wants a hug. needs one. deserves one. and wayne will provide don’t worry. but eddie’s sorta dissociated from the situation now #and that’s the worst thing that can happen to anyone who’s telling a story yknow. well anyway. sorry jfjfjdhdh shutting up now

[eddies-ashtray]

The Taste of the Divine // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Synopsis: You get high with Eddie for the first time.

WC: 3.2k

Category: Smut (18+ ONLY, minors do not interact).

Content: Weed (in the form of gummies), intox. kink if you squint, you and Eddie are both high, descriptions of what it feels like to be high, kissing, fem receiving oral, spit play (kinda?).

A/N: Hi! It's been a minute, so let's hope I'm not too rusty, but I hope you enjoy ;)

♡*♡*♡

“Woah,” you say.

“What?” Eddie asks, turning to look at you, his frizzy hair shifting over one shoulder with the motion.

“I can feel it behind my eyes,” you explain.  

Eddie grins at you lazily, his chest rumbling with a laugh as he says, “You are so stoned right now.”

An hour after you ate a couple blue raspberry THC gummies—effectively staining your tongue blue—you sit on Eddie’s bedroom floor, your backs pressed against the side of his bed. 

Only the lamp on the bedside table is switched on, blanketing the room in soft, yellow light. The gentle hue and the feel of his slightly rough duvet at your back give the room a sort of muted feel, making you feel like you’re inside a pillow fort.

“No, seriously,” you insist, softly tapping the back of your hand against his bicep. “It’s like, the back of my head feels…fuzzy?” you say it almost like it’s a question, trying to come up with the words. 

“Yeah?” Eddie hums, his tone gentle and understanding, but with a teasing lilt to it which makes your face burn up, sending tingles up your chest and neck that you’re not sure is a response to Eddie or the weed. 

“Yeah,” you agree with a nod, swallowing as you recognize the dryness in your throat. 

Eddie’s russet eyes flick down to your mouth for a moment, unconsciously flicking his tongue out to wet his pink pout. “Mouth dry?” 

You just nod, transfixed for just a moment by his tongue wetting his lips again. They shine in the lamplight, such a pretty shade of pink. 

You rub your thighs together, feeling like a cerulean wave has crested above your head, and you’re underwater, your whole body lax and calm as you float beneath the surface. 

It’s odd, the calmness in your body. The awareness of your limbs and how your face moves. And that wonderful fuzziness. It’s making everything softer, gentler. But there’s also the feeling of your soft thighs brushing together. The slight friction between your thighs makes the back of your head tingle, goosebumps rising on your arms and legs. 

It’s odd, but it’s good. New, but not unwelcome. 

When you meet Eddie’s eyes again, he feels closer. Or maybe he is closer? But you want him even closer. You’d beg him for closer, you think as his eyes impossibly darken, tracing their way down your features. 

You wonder what you look like to him. Are your eyes red? Do you look as spacey as you feel? Does he like it? 

Your limbs feel slightly heavy, your skin buzzing. Softness everywhere. 

“What else do you feel?” He whispers, his breath fanning across your mouth and chin. You crave the sight of his tongue to his lips. The touch of his tongue to yours. 

“I-”

God.

Your chest begins to rise and fall with quicker, shallow breaths. 

“Please.” It’s so quiet, you’re not sure if he’s heard you. But the look in his eyes is igniting a fire in your belly. 

He holds your gaze and you lose your breath.

Water surrounds you, dampening the sounds of the world. Softness envelopes you. An ache between your thighs, a craving unsatisfied. 

“Please, what?” Eddie laughs. 

When you don’t respond, only avert your gaze and rub your hands over your bare thighs (the summer heat has you in just a t-shirt and your underwear), you can sense understanding washing over him. 

“Are you feeling good?”

The question would be so normal. He’s just checking in with you, making sure you’re still okay. You trusted him enough to do this with him for the first time. You’d want to do this with no one else. 

But his tone suggests a double meaning.

Without your notice, there’s suddenly the feeling of his hand (rough from playing guitar) on your face. It feels so good you could go cross-eyed as you lean ever so slightly into his touch. 

“Do you feel it here?” 

You nod slightly, meeting his eyes again and forgetting yourself for a moment. 

His calloused fingers then trace a teasing path down your neck, past your pulse point, and his open palm lands just below your collarbone. His eyes follow the trail, and he can no doubt see and feel the quick rise and fall of your chest. 

The warmth of his hand seeps into your skin. 

“Here?” Eddie questions. 

The room falls away as you say, “Yeah.” But it comes out rough, a reminder of your dry mouth. 

Eddie hums, as if this is interesting to him, like someone has told him a fun fact he’s not sure that he cares about. His fingers continue their path down your chest, leaving a long trail of electricity in their wake. 

You survey his face as he watches his hand trail down, before ghosting his hand past your chest and stomach. 

Without even thinking about it, you gently split your thighs for him.

“Oh,” He says it like his heart ached the moment the plush of your thighs separated to accommodate his rough hand.

The inside of your thighs burn where his fingertips caress them, stoking the growing fire in your belly. You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling. 

You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. Over his hands barely grazing your body. Over his dark eyes on you, his wavy hair creating a shade around you. 

“There,” you agree before he utters the question. Your heart is beating rhythmically against your rib cage, begging for his touch as your skin tingles, everything slower. 

Everything is so warm. You want his fingers everywhere. 

“Touch me,” you breathe, and Eddie’s eyes dart up from your thighs to watch your face. 

He sighs like he’s pained by your plea, melting into you. His forehead meets your temple.

Now it’s his turn to catch his breath. He just breathes, the soft air cooling your warm cheek. 

After a moment, Eddie pulls himself from you, catching your eyes again as he moves back, but remains close. The scent of his shampoo and him invade your senses. 

“Where?” He questions. “Here?” But it's so gentle, as his hand smoothes over the curve of your thigh, and drifts so slowly up, his pinky just meeting the edge of your panties. 

A whimper slips past your lips as if he’s dripped hot wax onto your thigh, instead of the gentle caress he actually gives you. 

He fingers the fabric with his thumb. “These are cute,” Eddie muses, then pinches your thigh between his thumb and forefinger, right at the top where you’re most tender and soft. 

Your stomach somersaults and you can’t help but bring your right hand up to rest atop the back of his, where it rests between your legs. 

The feeling of his warmth, the hum in your veins. The need for more. You shift his hand downwards, letting him graze you over the cotton with his palm lying flat against your clothed pussy.   

Eddie sucks in a breath, his middle finger trailing up your slit over your underwear. He tsks softly as he presses into the wet patch. 

Warmth blooms in your chest and you feel like your heart is going to leap right out of your ribcage. 

His hands. So rough, but gentle against your skin. Those eyes, with pupils blown out from the weed and his desire that’s rolling off him in waves. His tone. Teasing and begging simultaneously. Like he wants to be a little mean, but he also wants you too much to play games for too long.

“Eddie-” 

But that’s all it takes before he cuts you off, capturing your mouth in a desperate clash of teeth and tongues. 

His presence takes you over, flooding your senses. His lips taste faintly of a lingering cigarette and your strawberry chapstick he must have borrowed. 

Smiling into the kiss, Eddie pushes forward, leaning into you until you begin lowering to the floor. One of his hands is on the carpet behind you and the other is at your hip as he slowly guides you to the floor. 

When your back meets the carpet, Eddie’s hair shields you once again, his lips never once having left yours. 

Eddie is a welcome weight on top of you, pushing you deeper under that cerulean wave as you wrap your arms around his neck. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss by licking hotly into your mouth. His tongue grazes yours and you moan into his mouth, back arching off the floor. 

Your head is still fuzzy from the weed, and getting fuzzier.

Groaning in displeasure when he lifts himself away from your mouth, you slide your hands out from around his neck. Hand trailing down his chest, you grab the end of his necklace and pull him back down to your mouth. 

The groan that vibrates in his chest and feeds the fire in your belly makes you ache between your thighs. Losing yourself in the way your mouths move together, his bottom lip slotted between your top one, you both become increasingly sloppy. 

It feels so good to kiss him like this, completely invading each other’s space. He gets so into it, like he could do just this forever and he’d be happy—elated. 

When Eddie pulls away again, he flicks your top lip with the tip of his tongue and you can feel yourself throb. He breathes heavily, fair cheeks stained pink, and his hair a little more messy than it was before. His frizz; a halo. 

But before you can pull him back down again, he plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek. He’s on a mission, leaving kiss after sloppy kiss down your neck and chest.  

Enjoying the sensation of his lips on your skin, you loosen your hold on him, allowing him free range as your hands coast down his back. 

When he’s finally eye level with your tits, he diverges to the left one, flicking your nipple over your thin tank top with his wet tongue. You whine and thread your fingers through his hair, tug at his roots. Eddie grunts in response, but moves on quickly, pulling the fabric of your top loosely up your body so he can kiss the skin of your sternum and belly. 

Finally, you glance down at him, his dark eyes flickering to yours as he plants a final kiss to the dainty bow at the center of your panties.

Your hips flex beneath his hold as he squeezes your flesh before parting your thighs. The pressure of his calloused fingertips digging into your skin is delicious. You close your eyes, reveling in the sensation.

You can feel him move between your thighs, eliciting the soft sound of his body brushing against the carpet. 

“My mouth is so dry,” Eddie whispers, his breath ghosting against the soaked fabric. “And you’re so wet, angel.” 

You throw an elbow over your face, shielding your eyes, not out of embarrassment, but because you are so overwhelmed by him. 

It doesn’t help when his lips press against your panties, right where your clit is, and your legs twitch in surprise. All you can do is gasp, enjoying his teasing.  

Then there’s the feel of his hands coasting up and down your thighs. Your skin heats as you bite your lip, heart rate quickening.

Eddie places another sweet kiss to your pussy over the cotton, this one lower, drawing a whine out of you as you wiggle your hips impatiently. He teases his tongue against the wet patch and your hips buck involuntarily. You can feel him smirk against the skin of your thigh and you huff. 

He places one final quick kiss to your mound, before asking: “Can I take these off, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, Eddie,” is all you can manage, and it comes out strangled and muffled beneath your arm. 

But it's enough for him to tear your panties down your legs, and you kick them off as he dives back in, his arms encircling your thighs once you’ve got your feet planted on the floor by his shoulders. 

“Fuck, look at you…My pretty, sweet thing.” 

You cover your face with your hands, sweet humiliation warming your skin. 

You feel so exposed like this, open for him. It makes your heart race. But the weed clouding your brain means you’re not as self-conscious as you might have been otherwise. Not about the coarse hair between your legs or how wet you are despite how little he’s really touched you. 

Slowly, Eddie pulls your hands away from your face, and you rest them on your belly. 

The intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. “Watch.”

He’s gentle at first, kissing the backs of your thighs, his eyes on yours. 

But as he trails his kisses closer and closer to your center, he nips at your inner thigh, causing you to whimper pathetically. 

And finally—finally—Eddie licks a thick stripe up your weeping cunt, and closes his eyes, losing himself in your taste. 

“Fuck!” you cry out as his mouth devours you, his tongue lapping at your wetness as he licks you from your leaking hole to your clit. 

Eddie pulls you impossibly closer, his grip tightening on your thighs, burying himself between your legs. He’s starved for it and your legs are already shaking. You’re so sensitive, and his tongue feels so warm, and it all feels just a little more. Just a little better. 

Tears prickle in your eyes at the sensations as you trail your hands down your belly and bury your hands deep in his hair. You groan as his nose bumps your clit. 

“More,” you beg, back arching just slightly off the floor.

Suddenly, his fingers join his tongue and he’s lapping at your hole enthusiastically while his thumb comes up to stroke your clit. Rubbing soft circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, you practically squeal at the overwhelming feelings as your thighs clamp around his head. 

For minutes, Eddie never comes up for air. His tongue feels like heaven as it sheathes inside of you, pumping the wet muscle inside of your warmth. His ringed fingers are like a blessing as they toy with your pussy. 

He hums against your cunt, so content to be between your thighs.

The pleasure and the weed make everything hazy as you babble, “Feels so good. So good, Eddie…Please.”

Pulling back for just a moment, he breathes hard, chest rising and falling rapidly as he thumbs at your clit and you moan, rolling your head to the side as you catch his eyes. But they aren’t on you. They’re on your pussy and your face warms as he stares, mesmerized. 

Eddie’s hand comes to rest on your mound as he thumbs at your clit. Dimples carve into his cheeks as he smiles lazily when you twitch. “So messy for me.” 

You’re pouting down at him, out of breath when he spits thickly onto your already soaked cunt, the coolness of his saliva on your warm skin making your hips stutter and causing a gasp to slip past your lips. 

It’s too much and you have to look away again, dropping your head back and shutting your eyes. Just feeling. 

“Mmh,” Eddie hums before you feel him spreading his spit around your pussy with his thumb. 

“Please-” You whine, but it morphs into a moan as he quickly dives back in, licking and sucking, completely brazen in his love for your taste. But you’re just as brazen, hips rolling into his mouth, practically riding his face. Eddie takes it in stride, reaching up underneath your shirt with his only free hand to pinch your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your back arches off the carpet and you gasp sharply. 

He kneads at your breast as his tongue and fingers become sloppy between your legs. Eddie shakes his head back and forth rapidly, no doubt staining his cheeks and chin with your wetness. All you can do is cry out, and moan, and babble on about how good he feels. 

Your orgasm builds, that delicious burning sensation swirling and growing in your belly. “Eddie. Eddie! Gonna-”

But you can’t even get the words out as he groans, the vibration sending shivers up your spine, only pushing you closer to the edge. 

Without pulling away fully, Eddie mutters roughly against your pussy, “Say it again.” 

It takes you a moment to process his words. And when you do you don’t fully understand. Until you do. 

Eddie is such a giver. He never tires of burying his face between your thighs and eating you out until you’re shaking in his arms, until you’re crying from the overstimulation as he goes in for seconds. 

But he likes receiving praise for it too. Likes to hear how good he’s making you feel. Likes to hear his name on your tongue. At this point it’s the only word you can remember anyway. 

“Eddie! Please, Eddie! Eddie,” You say his name like a prayer. 

He becomes an animal, going wild at the sound of his name leaving your lips. 

You’re so desperate to cum as you grind into his mouth, Eddie grunting, squeezing your breast in his hand, his other still working over your clit. You remove a hand from where it's tangled in his hair and cover the hand that kneads over your chest, back arching. 

When he begins the lethal combination of plunging his middle and ring finger into your tight, wet heat as he practically makes out with your pussy, you’re at your tipping point. The feeling of his lips kissing your clit, then his tongue darting out to have a proper taste as he sucks it into his mouth makes your brows furrow as you moan for him. 

One final thrust of his fingers inside of you and one last mean nip at your clit has your orgasm crashing over you, and your body convulses. Eddie continues to lick and fuck you with his tongue and fingers as you ride it out, cursing and moaning as you do. The feeling spreads everywhere, from your cunt, to your belly, to your chest, all the way down to your toes. 

Heat spreads beneath your skin as you slowly come down, chest heaving with shallow breaths. 

Eddie pulls away and you mewl when he playfully slaps the top of your cunt, making your clit flutter in sensitivity. 

Groaning lowly, Eddie climbs on top of you and you finally open your eyes. 

Your view is wonderful. His waves shield you from the lamplight, his mouth and cheeks glisten slightly as he grins down at you, and pieces of his fringe stick to his forehead which is covered in a light layer of sweat. 

Smiling languidly up at him, you reach up and brush his hair back from his face, the fire in your belly briefly heating up again at the feel of his hard cock nudging against your bare thigh. 

“Feel good?” 

Licking your lips, you nod, your body limp and tired. 

“Good,” Eddie whispers, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your mouth. You can still taste yourself on his tongue. 

He strokes your face lovingly with the back of his clean hand. “Still feeling floaty?” 

“Mhm,” you respond, completely blissed out, assuming he’s referring to the weed. 

He hums thoughtfully, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment before meeting your eyes again, a mischievous glint sparkling in his.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He whispers cheekily and you nod. 

Eddie leans down so his mouth is level with your right ear. “I wanna go again.” 

***

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please reblog!

<3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine

[lovebugism]

istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.

i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.

from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3

hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.

Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.

You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?” 

“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”

“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”

“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”

“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.

He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”

Your jaw tightens. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”

He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”

“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.

Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.

He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.

Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”

—————

By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.

You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson. 

You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.

“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.

“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”

“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.

“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”

You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”

You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”

“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”

“By who?”

“Who do you think?”

He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”

You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.

“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”

“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.

“You’re so annoying.”

Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”

“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.

“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”

You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.

You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.

“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”

“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.

You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”

“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

[undreaming-fanfiction]

The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.

What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.

It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.

That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.

Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."

The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.

They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?

And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"

They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.

They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.

It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.

Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.

To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.

Suddenly, a car horn.

Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"

Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"

There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"

Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"

And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".

Eddie wanted to punch him.

But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.

Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"

A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.

"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"

They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.

The man completely ignored them.

"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."

All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".

The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."

Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."

Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.

"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"

Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."

And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"

Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.

Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.

But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:

"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."

Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.

"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."

And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"

Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."

Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:

After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.

The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.

Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.

And finally...

The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".

#steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #freak stranger things #chrissy cunningham #drumcheer #not proofread we die like my sleep schedule

[m0llygunn]

deathbed confessions (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: cold and flu season hits you hard but luckily you have your best friend eddie to take care of you. If the cold medicine makes you admit a few things... eddie sure isn't complaining.

contents: 18+, best friends to lovers, r is dramatically sick with a cold (talks about dying but it's just drama), fluff idk a/n: guys i am so sick help me i had to lay on the bathroom floor after braving a shower because i thought i was gonna die (but also i wrote this so maybe im ok) wc: 4.4k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Holy shit, did Halloween come early?” Eddie snickers from the door of your room.

All you can muster up is a low groan and that alone makes you feel like your head is on the brink of explosion. 

“Jesus, you’re really sick, huh?” he says with the huff of a laugh.

You answer with another groan. Yes. You are 'really sick'.

“Can I do something to help?” he replies, the first hint of empathy appearing in his voice.

“Put me out—” you interrupt yourself with a sniffle followed by a phlegmy cough. “—out of my misery.”

You were supposed to be seeing some double feature with Eddie tonight but yesterday, right before bed, you felt the slightest of tickles in your throat. By morning you were the living dead with everything from your big toe to your forehead aching in one way or another. You called Eddie and before you could even mention that you were sick, he knew from your stuffed up voice. 

No matter how many times you told him you’d be fine he was strangely insistent in checking on you at the very least. By the end of the call he’d quickly worn you down and you told him that he has the spare key and he can do whatever he wants but if he gets sick that's his fault— a little mean but arguing was the last thing you felt like doing.

From the time you hung up to now— which has only been a handful of hours, you’ve gotten substantially worse. Earth shatteringly worse. So terribly worse that the simple task of opening your eyes has been too much effort. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and your lungs are just begging for salvation. That’s why when Eddie called twenty minutes ago letting you know he was on his way you told him no. It would have been wise if he listened to you but instead he replied ‘too bad’ and abruptly hung up the phone. 

Cut to twenty minutes later he was at your door, letting himself in. He was willingly walking into his very own death sentence. He clearly thought it was more of a joke than anything.

You hear Eddie’s tell-tale gait as he walks further into your room. You assume that he’s standing over your bed, maybe a hand on the back of his neck, maybe a hand on his hip. Mustering the efforts to confirm your suspicions would take too much of your very limited energy so you continuing laying in your bed, not doing as much as opening an eye.

You hear the ruffle of his hair and he definitely is rubbing the back of his neck as he gauges what to do. 

“So…do you want, like, medicine then?” he asks. 

“A gun,” you croak, earning a deep belly laugh from Eddie.

“At least your humour’s still intact, that’s good to know,” he says, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

You try to shuffle over to make room for him, but that effort alone makes you wince.

“Call an ambulance,” you whine, sniffling pathetically. 

“Really?” he asks, a genuine nervousness creeping into his voice. You feel his hand tug at the blanket you’ve cocooned yourself in, revealing your face for him to see. If you were more cognizant maybe you’d care about Eddie seeing you like this, but you’re too far gone to think about that. 

“No,” you answer, nodding your head up and down in contrast to your answer, earning a huff of relief from Eddie. 

The blanket slackens from his pull and the bed dips deeper as he leans in further to get a better look at you. Once again, if you were more cognizant you’d probably rather he didn’t, but you wouldn’t have the will to fight it anyways.

“Did you take anything?” he asks. 

“It’s been a few hours.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah, whipped up a quick 4 course meal earlier, michelin approved of course,” you mumble. You contemplate cracking an eye open to see his reaction but you don’t. 

“Right, so no food.” 

“No, surprisingly not that hungry when you’re on your deathbed,” you say, sniffling.

“Tell me you’ve at least had water,” he says and from his tone you know that he already knows the answer. 

“I had water until the bottle was empty, then I decided I’d rather succumb to death than get out of bed,”

“Funny, funny girl,” he says dryly, obviously not impressed by your answers. 

“Tombstone quote,” you say weakly, hoping that Eddie gets what you mean. He laughs softly and you consider that enough of a success. 

You hear the slightest bit of shuffling, not Eddie getting up but more like he’s looking around your room. Whatever state it’s in, you couldn’t even work up the courage to care. 

“Do you want a movie on or something?” he asks, breaking the lull in conversation. 

“Would you do that?” you ask, tilting your face towards him despite not opening your eyes. 

“Oh yeah. I’m giving you the mortally ill special— the deathbed works, if you will,” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling. You do your best to smile back but it’s weak and probably looks more like a grimace. 

You feel shuffling before the bed rises from Eddie standing.

“Okay, so I’m gonna get you medicine first. Then movie, food, and whatever else, deal?”

Your lower lip pouts out appreciatively for the boy you’ve called your best friend for forever now. If you weren’t deathly ill, you’d kiss him.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, voice getting caught in your throat for an entirely different reason than your cold this time. 

He mumbles back some version of ‘don’t worry about it’ before he’s off, leaving you in the quiet of your room with only your breathing, coughing, and sniffling breaking the silence. It’s barely a few minutes before you hear his footsteps and the edge of your bed dips again. 

“This is what you took right? The cold and flu medicine?”

“Mhm” you hum.

“You have nasal congestion?”

You sniffle loudly and nod.

“Right. Nasal pain, sinus congestion, and sinus pain?”

You hum again, catching onto the fact that he’s reading the symptoms off of the box. 

“Chest congestion?”

Weakly you swat your hand out trying to find Eddie. When you do, you give him the weakest of taps. “Too many questions,” you muster. 

“Well, I know you’re joking about dying but I don’t want to actually kill you,” he says. You hum again.

You hear him fumbling with the cardboard before fumbling with the plastic pill packaging.

“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks.

“I want to die,”

“Well you can’t do that so I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?”

Eddie starts tugging at the blanket and you let your weakened limbs go limp, undoubtedly making the task much harder for him but he doesn’t say anything. Eventually, he pulls you up by your underarms, propping you up against your headboard. 

When you feel his cool hands on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your face, you open your eyes for the first time since Eddie got here. 

“There she is,” he laughs lightly, still pushing back the disheveled mess that is your hair.

“Your hands feel nice,” you whisper, focusing on the coolness on your skin. Before you have a chance to really absorb the relief of his hands on your skin, he pulls away, grabbing for the water he had set down on your bedside table. 

“Yeah, you’re really hot,” he replies, passing the water to you.

“Tombstone quote,” you say, catching his eye, making him laugh again. With a shaky hand, you take the water.

“Funny and hot, that’s a killer deal.” He hands you the little cold and flu pill and you place it in your mouth, swallowing it down with small sips of the cold water that feels like ice going down your throat. 

You redirect your gaze to Eddie, “you’re gonna get sick, that’s the real killer here,” you say. 

“I’ll be fine,”

“You don’t want this cold, trust me,” you say, taking another sip of water before holding it out to Eddie. 

“I’ll be fine,” he repeats as he takes the water, putting it back on your bedside table. 

You nod. You appreciate Eddie’s help more than anything. Fending for yourself wasn’t exactly going so well— clearly.

“You had this with your other stuff, do you want it?” he asks, holding up the vicks vapor rub.

When you felt the cold coming on you went to the pharmacy and picked up a few things just in case. The vapor rub was on sale and you bought it on a whim but haven’t tried it yet.

“Do you think it really works?”

“Wayne used to put it on me, I guess it does?”

“Where do you put it?”

“On your chest or back,” he answers, looking at the fine print of the packaging. “Yeah, it says chest, throat, and back.”

You open your mouth to reply but instead feel the creeping up of the tickling in your throat. Turning the other way, you do your best to not cough all over Eddie. Sucking in a deep breath, you only trigger another cough that divulges into one of many coughing attacks that you’ve had today. When you’re finally done, you drop your head to the back of the headboard in defeat. 

“C’mon, let’s try it on your back for now,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder encouraging you to lean forward. You move how he wants you without protest.

“I’m just gonna lift up your shirt a bit, okay?” he says, you nod but he pauses, fingers just barely slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“Eddie, with the way I’m feeling, you could see me butt ass naked right now and I could not care less,” you say. 

He snorts a laugh before his cool fingers trail up your spine giving you tingles that make you shiver. “Sorry,” he hums but you shake your head. His hand makes contact with your upper back, rubbing the ointment on your skin and it honestly feels incredibly soothing. Whether it’s the rub or the physical contact, you’re not sure, but you’re not questioning it either.

The noise that comes out of you could have been a moan had you not been congested. Instead it comes out like a low, stuffed up groan— not unlike a movie zombie. 

Eddie rubs a few more circles on your back before his hand travels back down your spine. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, helping you sit back up straight.

“So fucking good and like I need you to rub my back like that again,” you say, resting your head back against the headboard. Maybe you put a little too much conviction in your words but that truly felt amazing.

The room is silent and you blink open your eyes to see Eddie holding the tub of rub in his hands, paused halfway through closing it. It takes a moment for him to look up at you but when he does, he smiles softly.

“What movie do you wanna watch?”

Had you not been distracted by your sickness, you might have noticed the faintness of a blush spreading across the tops of Eddie’s cheeks. Coughing and forcing air back into your lungs takes up every ounce of your consciousness though, so you don’t notice. 

You shrug your shoulder taking a deep breath, “anything, I’ll probably pass out from the medicine anyways,” you reply, turning away again to cough. 

Eddie hums before he’s moving to your dresser opposite your bed, angling the TV for you to see it better. 

“Sixteen Candles, Children of the Corn, Gremlins, Teen Wolf?” he says, listing off the titles of the different tapes you have sprawled next to the vcr. 

“Any.” 

“Gremlins seems kind of relevant,” he says, pulling open the clamshell box.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. Eddie turns to you, smirk spreading across his lips.

“Nothing,” he sings lightly. He turns away from you, pushing the tape into the player and then pressing the combination of buttons to get it working. 

“You better not be implying that I look like a gremlin because—” you interrupt yourself with another cough that quickly divulges into yet another coughing fit— worse than the last. 

With each cough being so strong it makes your head pound. You don’t notice Eddie crossing your room or him settling back on the edge of your bed. You only notice his presence when he’s encouraging you forward, hand rubbing your back again. 

When your coughing finally calms down enough for you to take a good breath, Eddie brings the glass of water up for you to take a sip. You take the cup in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. At the same time, Eddie never fully lets go of the cup, making sure it doesn’t spill. You take a drink, nodding when you’re done and he sets it back down, hand still running up and down your back. 

“It’s probably just the rub working, getting all that nasty stuff out,” he says softly. 

You nod again, letting your head fall to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s probably not the smartest idea to be so close to him because you're pretty much sentencing him to his demise, but with how terrible you feel you’re desperate for anything to make it better— and right now the only thing making anything better is Eddie. 

“The medicine’ll kick in any minute and you’ll feel much better, okay? I’ll go get you something to eat and then I can rub your back some more. How’s that sound?” he says softly, brushing the edge of your face with his chin as he tilts his face downwards towards yours. 

Your lower lip pouts out again and you feel your eyes water behind your closed lids. Maybe you were already hyper emotional from feeling so sick, but Eddie being so sweet is also doing a number on you.

“Sounds really nice,” you whisper, sucking in a breath.

“You’ll be okay,” Eddie whispers, hand switching from rubbing up and down your back to rubbing circles at the top of your back. “I’ll take care of you, I got you.”

Before the tears in your eyes have a chance to breach your waterline, Eddie’s shifting beside you, leaning you back against the headboard with the promise of being quick while he gets you food. Only once he’s gone and you’re left alone in your room do you notice Gremlins has already started playing. Opening your eyes, you spare a few glances at the screen that distract you from your teary eyed state.

As Eddie promised, he was pretty quick in his return. You could hear him the whole time, kitchen utensils clanking and cupboard doors closing. Maybe all concept of time is lost on you right now, but it seemed like barely any time had passed before he was taking slow, careful steps back towards your room.

“Alright— got that soup you like, got crackers, and got you some juice,” Eddie announces as he situates the dishware on your bedside table. “I even made sure not to warm the soup too much so you can eat it right away,” he says.

Eyes closed again, you don’t know what you expected him to do but him manhandling you took you by surprise. A hand slid behind your back and another under your upper thighs, he was sliding you right over on the mattress.

“Just giving myself some space here,” he says absentmindedly as he fixes your blanket around you. He quickly settles in next to you before grabbing the sleeve of crackers and settling them in front of you and grabbing the bowl of soup.

Sitting with his legs stretched out next to yours, you let your head dip to his shoulder again, this time like a silent thank you where you cozy your head against him, not unlike a cat.

“For the record, you’re more like Gizmo,” he says, a tease intruding in his voice.

“Hm?” you hum questioningly.

“You don’t look like a gremlin, you’re cute like Gizmo,” he says.

You sink your face further into the crook of Eddie's shoulder, lip jetting out once more. He’s done nothing more than call you a cute gremlin rather than an evil gremlin, yet you feel yourself turning misty eyed yet again. This time you squeeze your eyes shut, closing them on purpose, hiding your sickness induced emotions.

“Soups gonna get cold,” Eddie says, twisting his neck to look at you again. “C’mon, it’ll be better for you if you eat it warm,” he says, using his free arm to move you.

Once you’re finally propped up again in an appropriate position to eat, you feel Eddie’s hand on your cheek— no doubt becoming aware of your tears.

“You okay?” he asks softly, thumb rubbing under your cheek.

“You’re being so nice to me,” you explain, sniffling back your need to cry.

“Just taking care of you. Want you to feel better,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“You don’t gotta thank me, just gotta eat your soup, okay Gizmo?” Eddie says, making you snort out a snotty laugh before sucking it all back in with an apology that he quickly dismisses. 

You take a few breaths, getting your tears under control. Shifting your focus to the soup, Eddie holds the bowl close to you while you slowly feed yourself spoonful after spoonful. 

“Crackers?” Eddie offers.

“Maybe one.”

“How ‘bout two?” he replies, peeling back the plastic and pulling two out for you. You nod softly before taking them from him. 

You feel yourself running out of energy and it’s exasperating that all it took was lifting a spoon to your lips a measly few times. When you let the crackers sit in your lap for too long, Eddie turns to look at you, resting the bowl of soup down in his lap. 

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Tired,” you answer. 

“Just finish those and you can be done, okay?” he says, meeting your gaze. You shake your head.

“Can’t,” you reply.

“You can,” he says, turning his torso to put the bowl of soup on the table. He turns back around, reaching for the crackers in your hand. “Know you can,” he repeats, bringing the crackers to your lips.

“Eddie—” you try to protest.

“Bite,” he says, cutting you off and nudging the cracker into your mouth. 

You bite, giving into him. It feels weird being hand fed. It’s probably even weirder when two bites in you close your eyes in an effort to conserve your energy. Regardless, Eddie doesn’t say anything besides positive affirmations about how good you’re doing which you really, really appreciate. 

“How about you drink some of this,” he says, reaching for the glass of juice as you chew the last bite of cracker. “Then I’ll help you lay down and I can rub your back s’more?”

“You don’t have to if you wanna go home, you've been here a long time,” you say, swallowing the dryness of the cracker down. 

Eddie lifts the cup of juice to your lips, tipping it back for you to sip at. When you take more than a few drinks, you lift a hand lightly pushing the cup away. Blinking your eyes open you look at Eddie as he returns the cup to sit with the other dishware on your bedside table. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. You can go home if you want,”

“Don’t want to,”

“You’re gonna be— you interrupt yourself with a yawn this time. “—gonna be so sick,” you say groggily.

“Just let me cuddle you, you know you want it,” he says, a teasing tone hinting in his voice. You blink open your eyes again to see a genuine smile as he looks at you—one that shouldn’t be there considering how gross you feel and are sure you look. Despite that, it’s there and you do want cuddles so you nod softly, making a weak, sad attempt at getting closer to Eddie.

Eddie meets your attempt by gently pulling you down the mattress. He maneuvers you to have your head resting on his chest while his arm snakes around you, rubbing circles on your back. With the sleepiness settling in and your cold symptoms dialing back due to the medicine, you can’t help but hum happily. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he says quietly.

It feels beyond good. Good is an understatement. Having him take care of you like this is making you feel mushy and only highlights your feelings for Eddie. In combination with your partially delusionally, sleepy state the only thing on your mind is expressing your feelings, all of them true no matter how far out of it you are at this point. 

“Eddie, if I die, just know that I love you,” you mutter into the fabric of his shirt. 

“That’s just the cold medicine talking,” Eddie laughs softly. You find the energy to shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, love you,” you repeat. “Love you so much.”

It’s faint, maybe he whispered it or maybe it’s the fact that you were slipping into sleep but you heard it. 

“I love you too,” he says quietly. 

As if those words gave you a short lived second life, it had you perking up, desperately needing to clarify just in case he didn’t understand. 

“But Eddie I love you as my best friend but also more than that— I love you so much.”

He leaves you in silence but you don’t have the clear consciousness to overthink it, you just keep talking.

“I don’t even care if you don’t like me like that, I love you Eddie.”

“I love you too. Love you a lot, but I think we should talk about this when you’re not tired and on cold medicine, okay?” he whispers softly. 

As your thoughts start to drift, you focus on the first half of Eddie's sentiment. He loves you— and he loves you a lot. With that on your mind, intermixed with the comforting friction of his hand on your back, you fall into the deepest and most comfortable sleep of your life despite being so sick. Eddie loves you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Arguably, the best thing that came out of your cold was your confession. It was bound to happen eventually and although it did sort of seem like a deathbed confession at the time, it was genuine— that of which you clarified for Eddie. To your fortune, he also clarified that his reply was true as well. Beyond that, you were still sick and neither of you had done much more than just sharing those little words that one night. So yes, arguably, that's the best thing that came out of your sickly state; however, in your opinion, you think the best thing that happened was that you got Eddie sick too. 

It was less than a day after you started feeling normal again that Eddie was running a fever. He ended up staying at your place for the majority of your sickness but he had left once to get some things for himself. Since he had his stuff here already, you offered for him to stay over at yours while you returned the favor of playing doctor. 

Eddie took on a much different position as a sick person than you did. Undeniably, you both were on the dramatic end of things but while your cynical humour came out during your time being sick, Eddie was much different in how expressed himself.

Normally, a very touchy feely person, his affectionate side heightened tenfold while he was sick. He was all grabby hands, wanting you closer to him. Maybe it was because the two of you had broken the touch barrier while you were sick or maybe Eddie just turned into a touch deprived baby when he was sick, you’ll never know, but you didn’t deny him of the cuddles that you so dearly appreciated while you were under the weather. 

The most interesting part— which shouldn't have came as a surprise, was that not only did he appreciate holding you, but he intensely appreciated you holding him, whether that be hands scratching his head as he rested it on your stomach, or your arms wrapped around him from behind making him the little spoon. Additionally, he was also incredibly affectionate with his words, constantly telling you how grateful he was for you and how much he appreciated you. 

Your favourite confession came late one night, probably at the peak of his sickness. Fairly similar to your deathbed confession, but a moment to remember regardless.

You had just finished helping him eat, similar to how he had done for you, and were cuddling with him, smoothing your hands over his side as he rested his head on your chest. 

The medicine was kicking in, making him drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he let sleep take him over. He had kept babbling random thoughts but as he got more and more tired he was eventually reduced to heavy breaths. That was, until he titled his face up to yours. You looked down at him, meeting his sleepy eyes.

“I love you,” he said. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too, Eddie,” you replied, smiling.

“But I love you so much,” he said, voice returning to its babbling cadence. “Love you so much I wanna kiss you and love you and—” his babbling started to slowly fade as his head got heavier on your chest. You couldn’t help but laugh softly as your heart swelled.

You smoothed a hand over his face, brushing back his hair as you stared at him with nothing but love for your very, very sick boy. Like you had given him a second wind, his babbling started up again. 

“Wanna marry you. Love you so much wanna marry you,” he said, words slurring.

“Think you’ll have to ask me on a date first, cutie,” you replied quietly, partially under the impression that he was already asleep. 

“I will. Love you so much, I will,” he mumbled and with that, he was out like a light. 

From there, the rest was history. If curious minds were to inquire, you would say that Eddie’s always been very good at keeping his promises, and mindless babbling or not, he meant every word that he confessed in his sickly, drowsy state. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you! <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson friends to lovers

[bruisedboys]

can I request eddie and shy!reader with reader’s first kiss?! I imagine he’d be so gentle with her!

I want him to be my first kiss so bad!! waiting for him to be real so he can kiss me tbh

summary: eddie gives shy!you your first kiss

shy!fem!reader 0.9k words

Eddie thinks you look really pretty.

He’d tell you so but he’s already told you twice tonight, and he’s pretty sure if he says it again you’ll burst into flames on the spot. You’re quite shy — it’s endearing and very adorable but it also means Eddie has to be more careful of what he says and does. He wouldn’t want to scare you off.

He watches you pore over a book, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He badly wants to tell you how lovely you look. In a t-shirt that’s too big for you and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair all messy pretty and tucked behind your ears. He holds his tongue, turning back to the old band tee he’s hacking the sleeves off on his bedroom floor.

“Eddie?”

Your voice breaks the comfortable silence you and Eddie had been sitting in. Eddie puts down his scissors and looks up. He likes the way you’ve said his name, like he’s the only person ever. He’s sure he sounds similar when he says your name. He smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

You shuffle forwards on his bed, sliding to the edge until your legs dangle off. Eddie’s struck, yet again, by how beautiful you are. It takes all the breath out of his chest.

“Um.” You pause then, and get this nervous look on your face. Eddie knows it well. You’re often nervous around him.

He sits up straighter. By the looks of it you’re wanting to tell him something. Or ask him something. “Yeah, honey?”

Your eyes flick to Eddie and then back to your hands where they’re twisted in your lap. Eddie sees the tap tap tap of your foot, the wringing of your hands. He shuffles forward on the floor and gets a hand on your knee, fingers curling around the bottom of your thigh.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

When you answer your staring at your lap, determined to avoid Eddie’s eyes.

“Well … I just. I was reading that part in The Princess Bride, the bit about the five kisses? And I just wondering …” You reach up and scrub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Eddie balks. He was not expecting that. It’s a big question — for you to ask and for Eddie to answer. He has his own reasons. The biggest one being he’s afraid to scare you off, to mess up maybe the best thing in his life right now. Not only that, but he knows how tentative you are about relationship stuff. It’s all new to you.

The silence stretches too long. Eddie rushes to break it before you think he’s gone and backed out on you.

“Oh.” He says, more flustered than he’s ever been with you. Normally you’re the flustered one. He’s realising now how hard it is being on the receiving end. “Well, um. I … I guess—“

“Do you not want to?” You ask quietly, interrupting Eddie’s rambling.

Eddie stops short. “What?” He stares up at you. He can hardly believe you think that. Of course he wants to kiss you — he’d kind of thought you wouldn’t want him to. “No. No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I just. Well, I just wanted to wait until you were ready … “ He pauses, catches the look on your face, like you’re waiting for something to happen. “Are you ready?”

You bite your lip. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders what it would be like to kiss your lips. You nod very slowly.

“I think so,” you say. You’re staring at his mouth now.

Eddie nods so quick he almost snaps his neck. He hardly cares.

“Okay,” he says earnestly. He scrambles to his feet and then moves to stand in front of you, your knees pressing into his legs.

You blink up at him. Eddie can’t resist taking your face in his hands. Your skin is hot to touch. He imagines his face would feel the same.

“You’re really pretty,” he says despite himself. Even though he’d promised not to tell you again until at least tomorrow.

“Eddie,” you chide softly.

Eddie just grins. “Are you sure you want to?” He asks you, struggling to hear himself over the thump of his heart in his ears. He very much wants to give you a Princess Bride worthy kiss right now.

You nod around his hands. “I’m sure,” you say.

Eddie leans in then. His hands on your face, pulling you gently towards him. His eyelids fluttering shut. It feels different but it feels right. He’s about half a second away from kissing you when you say,

“Wait.”

Eddie opens his eyes. You’re so close he could count your eyelashes.

“What?” He whispers back.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say. Your breath fans over Eddie’s mouth, your lips ghosting over his. It takes all his might not to kiss you right then and there. “I don’t know how,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” Eddie tells you. It is okay. And he’s maybe a lot more honoured than he should be that he’s gonna be your first kiss. “You’ll learn.”

“You’ll teach me?”

Eddie looks at you and thinks yeah, he’ll teach you. He’ll do literally anything you could ever ask of him. “Of course, angel.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile and Eddie thinks if he doesn’t kiss you now he might pass out.

He kisses you. He doesn’t pass out but he comes pretty close.

-

#does the princess bride refernce make sense idk #also can u tell eds and shy!r is like my fav thing to write ever #★ mal writes! #ღ eds #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x shy!reader #eddie munson x shy!reader fluff #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson drabbles #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson headcanons #✉️

[corroded-hellfire]

Love Comes Walking In - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie didn’t want to go to prom, until he wanted to go with Chrissy. You wanted to go to prom, but not if Eddie is going to go with Chrissy. But above everything, you want Eddie to be happy.

Note: this whole thing mostly came about because I wanted to write the one scene with Dustin. You’ll know the one.

Words: 6k

Eddie teasing you was nothing new. His lighthearted jabs about your skirt making you look preppy or having sleepy eye boogers first thing in the morning roll off your back, occasionally even making you laugh along. But when he teases you about wanting to go to prom, that gets under your skin. 

Wanting one special night to wear a pretty gown with glowing makeup and neatly styled hair didn’t sound stupid to you. To your best friend, it seemed like torture. The whole school year Eddie would rag on you about buying into the whole conformist commercialism that you thought of as a rite of passage. That makes it even worse when he suddenly changes his tune just a week before the dance. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jeff complains. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just because I changed my mind doesn’t mean I’m ridiculous,” he argues.

“You changed your mind because of a girl!” Gareth shouts. 

Jabbing your green beans with your plastic fork, you stay silent as the boys bicker back and forth. Part of you was also afraid to open your mouth, unsure of what would come out.

“You say that like I’d go to prom with any girl,” Eddie snaps. “I’m not saying I’m going, I’m saying I would go with Chrissy.”

The fork is clutched so hard in your hand that you think it’s going to snap in half. 

“What’s wrong with wanting to go with anyone?” Jeff asks.

Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him and wrinkles his face up in distaste, not bothering to give a verbal response. 

“Hypocrite,” you mumble under your breath.

“I am not.” Eddie stares at you and your head jerks up in surprise that he heard you. 

“Yes, you are,” you say. “You’ve made fun of me all year for wanting to go and now because you have a crush, it’s different? Bullshit.”

“I changed my mind,” Eddie reiterates. 

“Fine,” you say with a huff. It’s not worth arguing with him over. 

“Maybe you should apologize,” Dustin suggests softly.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Come on, you have been on her ass about it all year,” Dustin says. 

“Thanks, Dustin,” you say. “But it’s fine.”

Eddie opens his mouth, but you don’t give him a chance to speak. Chair legs scraping against the floor, you push your seat back and stand up from the table. The guys all watch as you leave, dumping your tray in the trash before stalking out of the cafeteria. 

Arguments with Eddie rarely happened. They’re so rare that neither of you know how to react when you next see each other. Are you still fighting? Has it been long enough where you both can pretend like nothing ever happened? There’s no chance to talk to one another in your shared algebra class the next day, so it wasn’t until lunch that you really came face to face. Eddie’s at the table before you, and you plop down in your usual seat next to him. 

“We cool?” Eddie asks as you’re in the middle of lifting a forkful of mac and cheese to your open mouth. 

“Uh, yeah,” you say, eyeing him over your full fork. “I guess.” 

“Good.” He slouches down in his seat, as if he can relax now that he knows you’re on good terms. “Oh shit, here I got you something.” Eddie reaches into his metal lunchbox and pulls out a Three Musketeers bar. “Band kids are selling candy, so I bought your favorite for you. Hide it before Henderson gets here or he’ll steal it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a grin. This was exactly the reason why your feelings for Eddie would never go away. Just when he pisses you off to the point where you swear you’re never going to sit with him at lunch again, he turns around and does something sweet and thoughtful without expecting anything in return. 

“Breaking news, losers,” Gareth says as he drops his tray on the table. “I have a prom date.”

“Well shit, I guess hell has frozen over,” Mike says as he and Dustin join the rest of you. 

“You’re not a senior,” Jeff points out.

“No, but my date is.” Gareth’s smirk is enough to earn an eye roll from both you and Eddie. 

“Who’s that desperate?” 

Gareth throws a French fry at you - which you dodge - before he answers. 

“Calling Kel desperate?” 

“What?” you almost screech. “How are you going with one of the sweetest girls at school?”

“I’m super cool,” he says, making the rest of you bust out in laughter. 

“But seriously,” Jeff says.

“You’re all assholes,” Gareth says before digging into his food. “At least I have a date.” 

Eddie goes to reply, but you’re afraid of what he’s going to say, so you scoop up your backpack and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Once you step out of the cafeteria, you roll out your neck and shoulders, trying not to think of Eddie back in there talking about prom with the guys. You push the girl’s bathroom door open and breathe a sigh of relief when you’re the only one in there. Dropping your bag on the floor between your feet, you lean forward on one of the sinks and look at yourself in the mirror. A few deep breaths later, you feel your body relax. It’s short lived, however, when the door squeaks open on old hinges and two cheerleaders step in. 

You feel bad for the guttural reaction you have to seeing Chrissy’s blonde ponytail swinging behind you in the mirror. She is a complete sweetheart who wouldn’t hurt a fly, but the jealous green-eyed monster rears its ugly head and your fingers dig into the cool porcelain. 

“It really sucks,” the other cheerleader says to Chrissy. You know you’ve seen her around, but you don’t know her name. Both cheerleaders park at the sinks next to you to touch up their makeup. Chrissy throws you a bright smile and a friendly wave before taking her lip gloss out and turning back towards her friend. 

“I know,” Chrissy says. “I knew we were going to break up, but I was hoping for it to be after prom. How am I supposed to find a new date in a week?”

“I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that,” her friend assures her.

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says with a sigh. “Everyone probably has their dates by now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Your pulse is raging in your ears and sweat is starting to make your hands slip against the sink. The internal debate rages inside of you. Do you let your jealousy get in the way of something that will make Eddie happy? It would throw away any shot you had of going to prom with Eddie yourself - but you know that was a long shot anyway. 

Still undecided, you take a step back from the sink, and your backpack falls over. You bend down to pick it up and the Three Musketeer bar falls out. It feels like your gaze should melt the chocolate that’s laying before you. Damn Eddie and his thoughtfulness at buying you the stupid candy. You toss it back in your bag, wincing as you prepare self-destruction. 

“Hey, Chrissy,” you say.

She turns to you with a smile, putting the top back on her lip gloss.

“Hey! What’s up?”

“I, uh, didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” you say as you slide your backpack on. You can’t manage to look her in the eyes as you speak. “But I know someone who doesn’t have a date yet.”

“You do?” She perks up in interest and the souring of your stomach almost keeps you from going further. 

“Yeah.” It sounds painful coming out of your mouth and you hope neither cheerleader notices. “Um, Eddie? Eddie Munson.”

“Really?” her friend asks. She crosses her arms over her chest and juts a hip out. You’re two seconds away from smacking the snotty look off her face when Chrissy speaks up.

“Eddie is great,” Chrissy says, looking over her shoulder at her friend before looking back at you. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Think he’ll say yes if I ask him?”

“I do.” Those two words were almost the hardest to get out. It was killing you how much of an understatement it was. 

“Okay!” The eagerness in her voice makes you want to cry. There’s no way you’ll be able to face Eddie back in there. 

“You can, um, ask him now if you want,” you say with a shrug. With a deep breath, you head towards the bathroom door. You stop halfway out the door and turn back around. “Oh, if Eddie asks,” you say, doubting he would because he’d be too consumed by the fact that his dreams were coming true, “can you just tell him I wasn’t feeling well and left?”

“No problem.” Her brow furrows in concern and she takes a step towards you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” It’s the biggest lie you’ve told in a while. “Cramps.” You put your hand to your lower abdomen and Chrissy gives you a sympathetic nod.

“Feel better!”

Without answering her, you walk out of the bathroom and down the hall, to the school exit. As soon as you slide into your car, the tears start. They start pouring so heavily and your hands shake so badly that you can’t put your key in the ignition. Momentarily giving up, you drop the keys in your lap and drop your head down to the steering wheel. 

Giving yourself enough time to get the worst of it out, you pull back and use your sleeves to wipe down your face. With a deep breath, you close your eyes and try to center yourself. After a few breaths in and out, in and out, you’re able to get the keys in the ignition on the first try. You pull your car out of the parking lot and head towards your house. The conversation you had with Chrissy keeps going through your head and you can’t keep from picturing the euphoric look that will be on Eddie’s face when she asks him. The saving grace you’re holding on to is the fact that Chrissy immediately defended Eddie to her friend. There aren’t many people in the school who would do that. 

Luckily, no one is home when you get to your house and you’re able to go inside and sulk in peace in your bed. More tears leak out as you hug your pillow to your chest. You must end up falling asleep because the persistent ringing of your doorbell jolts you awake sometime later. Heart racing from the adrenaline, you pull yourself out of bed and drag yourself to the front door. 

Eddie’s standing on the other side and it’s the first time his smile has ever broken your heart. 

“You are the best!” He swoops into your house and wraps you up in his arms. “Oh shit, sorry. I forgot, Chrissy said you’re having some girl pains.”

Right. 

“They’re better now that I’ve rested,” you say. “And you don’t have to thank me. Just doing what a good friend would do, right?”

“The best friend in the world!” He takes your head in his hands and presses a loud smacking kiss to your forehead. His happiness is infectious and despite your foul mood, a small smile curls on your mouth. 

“Now,” he says, taking both of his hands in yours. “We have to find a date for you.”

“Oh.” Your face drops and you shake your head. “I’m not going to go.”

It hadn’t occurred to you that Eddie would still be thinking about how you wanted to attend prom. The idea of his own perfect date should’ve been occupying his whole brain, but damn Eddie and his thoughtfulness. 

“What?” Eddie immediately frowns and it tugs at your heart. It tempts you to tell him you’ll go, but the mental image of Eddie dressed up and dancing with a flawless-as-usual Chrissy makes you bite your tongue. 

“You were right before,” you tell him. “It’s dumb and there’s shitty music. Plus, the dresses are way too expensive.” The dress you planned on wearing was already in your closet, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. 

“Are you sure?” Eddie dips his head down to meet your eyes. He raises an eyebrow at you questioningly. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. 

“I’m going to miss you there,” he says, and you almost slip up and laugh out loud at his statement. 

“Oh please, you’ll be having way too much fun to notice I’m not there.” 

“Like that could happen,” Eddie says with a skeptical look. 

You don’t bother arguing with him, even though you know he’s wrong. 

On your way to the cafeteria the next day, you can’t bring yourself to walk in. You know if you do then you’re just going to be hearing about plans for prom and you don’t trust yourself not to break down in tears in front of everyone. There was no way you could avoid the guys entirely until prom, but you couldn’t face them today. Eddie doesn’t want to be with you. He wants to be with Chrissy. And you have to make yourself seem okay with that somehow. Just not today. 

There’s a vending machine on the way to the gym, so you pick up a bag of crackers and a bottle of coke. The gymnasium is empty, so you take a seat on the bottom row of bleachers and start to eat your sad little lunch. It’s easy to let your mind wander, so you try to redirect it away from where it wants to go. Usual calming fantasies revolve around Eddie in some way, but that’s out of the question right now. 

Your mind can’t stray far from Eddie though, so you let your mind divulge in a little dark fantasy as you eat. What would happen if you just ran away? What would happen if you just threw some clothes in a bag and bolted? You would never actually do it, but imagining Eddie being sad over you leaving brings you a sick sort of comfort. Because he would miss you. You know he loves you, it’s just not in the same way that you wish. 

As you crumble up your wrapper in your hand, the gym door opens and a familiar hat over tousled curls walks in. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at you, as he walks your way with his hands in his pockets. Sneakers squeak across the shiny floor and come to a sudden halt as he stops in front of you. 

Dustin dips his chin down and raises his eyes to look at you. He takes one hand out of his pocket and holds it out to you.

“Yes?” you ask, looking between his eyes and his hand. 

“I know what you did for Eddie,” he says. “We all know. Except for him, he’s an idiot. But it really was a nice thing to do. I never could’ve done it.”

“Thanks,” you say skeptically, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“He told us you said you don’t want to go to prom. I know that’s bullshit. So,” he says, bringing his hand back and extending it to you again, “I am asking you if I may take you to the prom.”

Your eyes immediately well with tears as you look up at the boy in front of you. Dustin was always one of the sweetest people you knew, but this was taking it to a whole other level. 

“Oh, Dustin,” you say. You take his hand and tug his arm until he’s sitting on the bleacher next to you. “That is the sweetest offer I’ve gotten in my entire life. But I can’t go to prom.”

Dustin sighs and nods his head.

“Can’t see them together?” he asks.

“Correct.”

He wraps his arm around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“So, everyone knows, huh?” you ask. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you stare at Eddie a lot.”

The laughter that bubbles out of you is so unexpected that you bring your hand up to cover your mouth. 

“I know,” you admit. “I do.”

“And you look at him differently than you look at anyone else,” he says. 

“Like he’s an idiot?” you ask and Dustin chuckles. 

“No, I think we all look at him that way.”

You sigh and pick your head up from Dustin’s shoulder. You pat his arm and give him a grateful smile.

“Dustin Henderson, you are the best. And if I were going to go to the prom with anybody at all, it would be you.” 

“Well, when I go to my senior prom, I hope I go with someone half as awesome as you.”

That makes the tears spill over and you hastily wipe them off your cheeks. 

“God, I love you.” You throw your arms around his neck and give him the tightest hug you’ve given anyone in a while. He chuckles as he hugs you back.

“Who doesn’t?”

The night of prom comes, and you stand in your kitchen, alone in the house and in your comfiest sweats, making cookie dough. Screw warnings of not eating raw eggs, you were making this dough to eat, not cook. The last few days at school you went back to eat lunch with the guys but used a fake sore throat as an excuse for staying quiet and distant. You really only needed to fool Eddie though, since the other guys knew what was really going on with you. 

You take the bowl of cookie dough into the living room and set it down as you flip through the VHS tapes you’d rented earlier in the day. Steve had known about you not going to prom because, of course he did, Dustin tells him everything. You assured him it wasn’t a big deal, just wanting to get out with your movies. 

Settling on The Outsiders because you could stare at Rob Lowe all day, you pop the tape in and settle on the couch with your favorite blankets and your bowl of cookie dough. You can only eat about a quarter of the dough before your stomach has had enough. It sits on the table in front of you as you watch the rest of the movie. It’s not even eleven by the time the movie’s over but you don’t feel up to sitting through another one. You take the bowl of cookie dough back into the kitchen and stick it in the refrigerator. Thoughts of what’s happening at the prom have been trying to jam their way into your brain all night, but without the movie to distract you, those thoughts finally break in. Is there a slow song playing right now? Are Eddie’s hands on her hips or is one wrapped around her back while the other holds her hand? Is he having a good time? Are they playing any music that he likes? What did he end up wearing? You know you’ll end up seeing pictures but you’re not looking forward to seeing how pristine Chrissy is all dolled up when she’s naturally so beautiful on her own. Right now, you can imagine she’s wearing a garbage bag and her hair is all rolled up in curlers and her makeup looks like a clown’s. But once you see pictures, that illusion you’ve clung to will burst like a bubble in your heart. 

You press the heels of your palms to your eyes to try and stop the impending tears from falling. A few deep breaths and you get it under control. This heartbreak shit sucks. 

Before heading up to your room, you grab a water bottle from the fridge and your blanket off the couch. On your nightstand is a small radio and you click it on so you won’t be alone in silence with just your thoughts for company. The sheets feel cold and crisp as you slide into them. Putting your blanket back on top of you, you curl up on your side and nuzzle your face into your pillow. The light’s still on in your room, but you didn’t feel like getting up to turn it off.

The dial on your radio must’ve gotten knocked at some point - which happened often as you fumbled with things on your nightstand constantly - because smooth jazz starts playing and you huff a laugh into your pillow. You weren’t moving to fix that, either. When your parents come home, if you’ve already fallen asleep, your mom will turn both the radio and light off for you. 

But the jazz is actually more soothing the longer it plays. It calms your frayed nerves and helps you start to doze off, body finally giving in to the exhaustion you’ve been feeling from all the stress lately. 

In your half-asleep state, you hear your parents come home. They’re not exactly quiet walking around downstairs, but they also probably didn’t expect you to be sleeping this early. The thudding of your mom’s heels coming up the stairs echoes in the quiet hallway, drifting into you even over the radio. The footsteps keep coming towards your room and you’re looking forward to the sweet darkness you’ve craved when your mom gets to your room. But the lights don’t turn off. Instead, the bed dips next to you and you feel someone lay down beside you. 

She means well, you know, because she knew that you were bummed to miss prom, even if she didn’t know why. But the last thing you wanted right now was to have her try and talk to you about how you’re feeling. You know you’ll lose it and end up crying yet again. She stays quiet beside you though and you’re thankful for it. 

“I know you’re not asleep.”

The deep voice startles you and your eyes snap open. Eddie’s laying down on his side, facing you, head propped up on his arm. He’s smiling at you. It’s the first thing you notice before your eyes travel down, taking in the suit he’s wearing. Partially a suit, anyway. He’s wearing nice black slacks, which you didn’t even know he owned, with a maroon button up shirt. No jacket, but you’re not sure if he had one on earlier or not. He’s still your Eddie though, because he has his pick necklace on and his many rings adorning his fingers. 

“Look at you.” Your voice sounds a bit froggy between almost being asleep and all the crying you’ve done. “Not a stitch of denim in sight.”

Eddie chuckles. It sounds so nice. He leans over and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask.

“Came by to see my best girl,” he says. Maybe he still says it out of habit, but you’re pretty sure you’ll be losing that title shortly. 

“But prom,” you say, whinier than you intended to. 

“It’s over,” he says.

You frown and crane your neck to see the clock on your dresser. The neon green tells you that it’s just after one in the morning. You must’ve dozed longer than you thought.

“How was it?” you ask, bracing yourself for the answer. 

“Pretty much how I expected it to be.”

“Oh yeah?” The fake smile on your face is starting to feel second nature, and you hate it. “Everything you’d hoped?”

“No,” he says with a laugh. He shakes his head and twirls the ring on one of his middle fingers with his thumb. “I was right the first time. Shitty music. Horrible punch - which Principal Higgins was guarding like he was trying to keep the Huns from invading China. People at our school can’t dance for shit, myself included. And to top it all off, my favorite person wasn’t there.”

Your brow scrunches together and you sit up in bed.

“She stood you up?” 

“What?” Eddie asks. When he realizes what you mean, he closes his eyes and smiles. “No, you dork. I meant you. You weren’t there.”

“Me?” you ask. The skepticism in your voice cuts right to Eddie’s heart. He frowns and scoots forward on the bed so he can rest his hand on your hip. 

“Yes, you. You’re doubting that you’re my favorite person?”

“Well, kind of,” you say quietly. 

“Why?” he asks, and his frown makes your heart plummet into your stomach. 

“It’s just, you were so excited to go with Chrissy.”

“I was,” he admits. “But just because I had a crush on a girl doesn’t mean that you’re not still my number one.”

Had. The one word sticks in your mind and you know there are other things you should say, better things, but the question is burning your tongue so it has to come out.

“Had a crush?” you ask. 

Eddie nods and rubs his thumb over your hip bone.

“Turns out a lot of crushes can go away quickly if you actually spend time with the person.”

“Did she say something? Do something?” you ask.

“No,” he says simply. “She’s great. There was just nothing to talk about after the first twenty minutes or so. She knows nothing about my interests, and I know nothing about hers.”

“Just didn’t click?” you ask.

“Yeah, exactly,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, mouth pursed in thought. “This is a horrible analogy, but it’s what came to mind. It’s like when a present is sitting there in front of you, and it’s wrapped beautifully. Ribbons and bows and all that jazz. You just stare at it and want it, imagining what kind of fun thing could be inside. Then, you finally get it, you can hold it in your hands. You open it and it’s a new shirt. It’s nice, but not what you were expecting. You don’t dislike the shirt, it’s just not the present you wanted.” 

“Look at you with the metaphors,” you say with a smirk. “Senior English three times and you’re a full-on scholar now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and playfully squeezes the skin at your hip.

“I was being serious,” he says.

“I know. And I get it. You kissed a frog who didn’t turn into a princess.”

“And you thought I had an odd way of putting it,” Eddie says with a laugh. “But I didn’t even kiss her before I knew there was nothing there. Once the excitement wore off it was pretty boring, actually.” 

“I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted,” you tell him honestly. 

“I’ve always known the prom itself would suck. Just thought it might be fun with the right date. And it might’ve been, but I didn’t have that.” He takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes. “I should’ve brought you.”

The tears are coming but you force them to hold their position. It’s hard not to yell at him that that’s what you’ve wanted all along. But there’s no point. Any begging or pleading before the prom wouldn’t have gotten him to agree to take you. So, instead of living in the ‘if you realized this sooner I could have gotten to go to my prom’, you let it go by and just appreciate the fact that he wishes he had gone with you instead of Chrissy. 

“But I’ve had an idea,” Eddie says as he pushes himself off your bed. 

“And what’s that?”

“Well,” he says as he walks over to your closet. “First things first, I’ve got to see what we’re working with here.” 

“Why?” You scoot down to the foot of the bed to see what he’s doing more clearly. He’s going through your clothes, inspecting every piece, and deeming them unfit for whatever scheme he’s cooked up in his brain. 

“You’ll see. Wait. Are you kidding me?” He reaches into the back of your closet and pulls out the gold dress that you had bought for prom. “You told me you didn’t get a dress!”

“How do you know I haven’t had that dress for a while?” But your blush won’t let you get away with the lie.

“Well for starters, the tag is still on it.” He brandishes it to you and you huff.

“Okay, yeah, yeah, I had a dress. But I didn’t want to go, and I didn’t think you’d end up riling through my closet anyway.” 

“Put it on,” he says, tossing its hanger into your lap.

“I’m sorry, what?” The dress tries to slide from your lap to the floor, so you pull it up and lay it down on the bed next to you.”

“Put it on,” he says slower this time, as if that should clear up everything. 

“Why?” 

“Because I want to dance with you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I’d dance with you in your sweats, but I thought you might want to get all dolled up like me.” He smirks and runs his hands down the buttons of his maroon shirt. 

“You want to dance with me?” Maybe you’re still asleep and this is all a dream. 

“Yeah.” Again, he says it as if it’s something you do every day. His casual tone is making you think you’re the one who’s not making sense. 

“Okay,” you say as you stand. “I guess I’ll go change.”

“This is your room,” Eddie says, heading to the door. “Change here, I’ll wait out here.” He walks into the hallway, closing your bedroom door behind him. 

You slip the sweatpants down your legs and tug the sweatshirt off over your head. The single strapless bra you own is at the bottom of the drawer and you have to dig your way down to find it. The gold dress has a halter neckline so there’s no way you could wear a regular bra underneath. You squeeze the bra on, and even change your panties from blue ones with butterflies on it, to one of the few lace ones you own. 

The dress unzips easily and glides down your body as you get situated. You can’t zip it yourself, but Eddie can do that for you. Most of the makeup you own is in the bathroom, but you can make do with the little bit sitting over on your dresser. Looking in the mirror, you do a soft layer of makeup and then inspect your hair. It strikes you as funny when you see yourself in a golden dress with makeup on, but total bedhead up on top. You yank the scrunchie out of your hair and shake your head to toss your hair around. It looks better but not great. Your eyes land on a silver hair clip dotted with pearls and you reach up to tuck some of your hair back and secure it with the pin. There. The look is done. 

When you open your bedroom door you expect Eddie to be waiting there but you don’t see him. You stick your head into the hall and look both ways but see no metal head. 

“Eddie?” you call.

“Coming!”

He jogs out of your dad’s office a few doors down, carrying a few sheets of paper. Eddie comes to a halt as he takes in your appearance. Heat blooms in your face as you watch Eddie scan every last detail of this ensemble. 

“You look gorgeous,” he says. It’s enough to make you pass out, but you somehow stay standing firm.

“Thank you,” you say. “You look very handsome. Did I tell you that when you first got here?”

“No,” he says with a chuckle. “Just a remark about me not wearing any denim.”

“Which is truly a miracle. But you do look handsome. Very handsome.”

He smiles and takes steps towards you, paper still in his hands.

“What’s this?” you ask.

“I’m not very good at origami, but I did my best to turn this sheet of paper into a corsage.”

Your heart leaps at his words and it’s another battle of wills with your tears when Eddie slips his improvised flower on your wrist. Some tears win the battle, and they trail down your face. Luckily, you were smart enough to apply waterproof makeup. 

“Eddie, this is…” you trail off, not having the words to express how you’re feeling. 

“You wanted prom, so I’m giving you prom.” He takes both of your hands in his and guides you back into your bedroom. He closes the door behind him with his foot, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“Can you zip me up?” you ask. He nods and you turn around. His hands against your back sends a shiver up your spine and goosebumps break out over your arms. You hear him chuckle and he trails the tips of his fingers over your shoulders as you turn back around.

“What’s with the smooth jazz?” Eddie can’t help but laugh at the saxophone solo coming in over the speakers. 

“I hit the dial again.”

“Well, let’s fix that.” He bends down and turns the dial to find a good station. The static goes in and out, some songs coming through in pieces, or sounding like they’re underwater. It finally lands on a clear station and Eddie grins in triumph. “Perfect. Love Comes Walking In.”

“You know I love Van Halen.”

Eddie stands up straight and takes the few steps over to you. He bows in classic dramatic Eddie fashion, and he comes back up with a frown on his face.

“You’re not wearing heels. Or shoes at all.”

“Eddie, I would’ve kicked them off the moment I got there anyway,” you tell him with a laugh. “Barefoot is fine.”

“Just checking. Want this to be an authentic impromptu prom for you.”

You giggle and Eddie reaches his hand out to you. You take it and he instantly pulls you in and holds you against his body. It would be a miracle if he couldn’t feel or hear your heart beating so fast it’s like someone is dribbling a basketball beneath your ribs. His right hand takes your left and he twines your fingers together. His other hand snakes around your waist until it settles warmly on your back. You place your other hand on his shoulder and smile up at him.

“This is already better than actual prom,” he says. “Good music. Perfect date.”

Red rises to your cheeks and you duck your head shyly. 

The pair of you sway to the beat of the song, bodies moving along with the rhythm. Eddie spins you and it makes you let out a giddy peal of laughter. He pulls you back into him and you wrap both arms around his neck. He places his hands firmly on your waist as you start to sway again. 

“Thank you,” you say.

“For what?”

“You brought all the best parts of prom to me. I didn’t have to suffer through the shitty parts. I’ve got my dress, my music, my favorite person. It’s perfect, Eddie.” 

“I’ll dance like this with you anytime,” he says. “All you have to do is ask.”

The way he’s looking at you stirs some butterflies up that have been dormant until this point. He’s never looked at you this way and you’re not sure what it is. You know every Eddie facial expression and what they mean, but this one is new. His face is soft, and his eyes are wide, as usual. The brown irises are twinkling and there’s the barest smile on the left side of his mouth. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask. 

“You,” he says. No further explanation, which leads your mind to grasping for answers as usual. 

“What about me?”

“Just…you.”

“Okay, I take back what I said about being a scholar now. You’ve lost the ability to words,” you say and wrinkle up your nose playfully at him. He catches you by surprise, though, when he leans forward and presses a kiss to the very tip of your nose. 

The blush you had before was nothing to the one now gracing your features. Eddie chuckles when he sees it and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Do you want to have another prom tomorrow?” he asks.

“What’s that entail? Dancing with you?”

“Yes.”

“Good music?”

“Of course.”

“Can I wear comfy clothes?”

“I’ll be wearing mine.”

“Hmm,” you hum, pretending to consider it. “Can we get food too?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say with a smirk.

“Is that a yes?” Eddie asks.

“Eddie, I’d have this kind of prom with you every single day.”

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

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

[puppy-steve]

i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with him and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.

they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.

she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.

#cj talks #something something steve goes on a tv show to find romance and ends up finding his romantic and platonic soulmates #steddie #steddie fic #cj writes #i liked being your schmuck #platonic stobin #the three muskequeers

[rowanswriting]

“CALL ME, BAMBI.”

Rockstar!Eddie x Fem!Reader smut

this idea came about from a conversation that Mariah and I had @reidsbtch she also beta read for me for this one ((and helped me out so much I love you mar mar!)) I hope you all enjoy it I am so nervous about this, but have poured myself into it! Once again, only read if you’re 18+ please!

Warnings: basic dirty talk/name calling, mutual masturbation, mentions oral male receiving, degradation, if there’s anything I miss just let me know!

Summary: Eddie gives you the best gift you’ve ever gotten before heading out on tour.

word-count: 2.4K

“What’s this baby?” You ask curiously, looking up at Eddie his smile was so big you didn’t know how his face wasn't hurting. “Your last present, had to get you one more Doll and this one is very special.” You squint at him, slightly nervous at the tone of voice he was using. You shake the box slightly, hearing something heavy thump around in it. “Go on Bambi, open it.” He says, sitting down next to you on the plush carpet of your bedroom floor, your cat rubbing up against his leg lovingly before walking away somewhere, seemingly uninterested in the gift exchange.

You slowly rip the paper off of the box in your lap, smiling fondly at your boyfriend, you had emphasized that you didn’t actually need anything for Christmas but Eddie couldn’t stomach not getting you something. He spoiled you instead, before taking you to your room for your ‘big surprise’ or at least that’s what he called it. Once the wrapping paper is scattered over your floor you gently pull the box top off, looking down inside of it as your mouth drops open. “Eddie….” You trail off slowly reaching inside the box and pulling out a silicone dildo, only it wasn’t a store bought one, this was custom made. It looked just like Eddie’s cock, same vein on the underside, it even had the piercing at the top. You slowly looked over at the devil sitting next to you known as your ‘boyfriend’, shaking your head. “Baby, how did you even make this?”

He smirks at you while launching into this story of how he had to order this special kit at the sex shop, and wait until he was hard so he could stick his dick into the material, creating an exact replica of himself. You can feel your cheeks getting hotter and hotter the more he talks, you put the box down next to you quickly before grabbing onto his shoulders, swinging your leg over him to straddle his lap. He stops his rambling to look at you, his eyes full of the mischief that you fell in love with the first time you saw him. “I love it so much, love everything you’ve given me, baby, but I have to ask why? I already have the real deal right here.” You say, giggling slightly as you grind your ass down against his lap. He groans quietly, grabbing onto your hips and digging his blunt nails into them.

“My tour is coming up soon, and I just didn’t want you to go without. Couldn’t leave my sweet little Bambi with nothing to play with now could I? That wouldn’t be very nice of me.” He said darkly, his eyes lighting up at the shiver that physically made its way through your body. “I want you to have fun with this baby, want you to ride it and think of me while you do, it’ll fill you up just like me, well I mean it is me, but it still won’t satisfy you enough. I want to leave you aching for more.” You slowly pull your face away from where it was resting against his chest, looking up at him and biting your lip, running your hands down his chest down to his belt, playing with it gently. “I promise I’ll think of you every second, there’s nothing else I could think of, baby, you’re all that’s in my head.” He kisses you softly, moving a piece of your hair behind your ear before you’re slowly getting up from his lap. The both of you were exhausted after getting up early to start your Christmas traditions together, there would be time later for intimacy for now you needed sleep, all you could think about was calling Eddie while he’s away, taunting him with the fact that your dildo is deep inside of you, this was possibly the best present ever.

“Have everything you need baby?” You ask, mentally going through the checklist you had created to make sure that your sweet metal head didn’t forget a single thing he needed for his tour. He nods, pouting slightly as he stands by your front door, shuffling his feet around nervously. “No I really don’t, I need you to come with me.” He says, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, one that makes your heart skip a couple of beats. You sigh, feeling a lump in your throat. You wanted nothing more than to drop everything and go with corroded coffin on tour, but you needed to work and your job wasn’t accommodating for extended vacations. “I wish I could baby, but you know I have to stay here, besides who’s going to keep Steve in check with the kids, Robin’s at college so someone has to help out.” You chuckle as he rolls his eyes playfully. You wrap your arms tighter around him, leaning up to kiss him sweetly. “I’ll miss you so much, call me as soon as you get to your hotel so I know you’re safe.” You whisper as he lifts your chin gently, planting a firm and wanting kiss against your lips. “I’m gonna miss you too babydoll, don’t worry I’ll call as soon as I get there, we can fall asleep together on the phone just like we used to.” You smiled at the memory, when you first had met you spent a lot of time apart so long distance phone calls were all you could cling to. You feel yourself tear up as he kisses you a few more times , whispering goodbyes over and over before opening the door and slowly making his way over to the tour bus sitting in front of it, the rest of the band already on board and waiting for him. He turns around as he rests one of his hands on the bus door, smiling at you. “Bye, bye Bambi my love, don’t forget to call me.” He yells, blowing you a kiss. You giggle before blowing one back, he dramatically catches it and pretends to fall back against the bus as he holds his chest. “Bye, bye rockstar!” You yell, watching him get onto the bus, the door closing behind him. You sigh quietly, walking back inside and closing the door, slowly making your way to your room to make use of the gift Eddie just gave you on Christmas, you weren’t sure how you’d last months without him.

It’s been four weeks since Eddie left on tour, you haven’t used ‘the gift’ much to say the least, each time you look at it all you can think about is how you want Eddie here. You needed him, his touch, his kisses, his actual dick. You had made up your mind one night to call him and use it, he had been waiting this whole time for you to finally let him hear what you think about when you ride it, and if you were being honest you missed hearing how he talks to you when you were all worked up. You glance at yourself in your bedroom mirror, you look good, dressed in your best lingerie even though Eddie wouldn’t be able to see it. You ran your hands down your chest, teasing yourself before shuffling your way over to your bed, opening the drawer of your nightstand and pulling out the pink silicone toy, before you’re slowly laying back on your bed, grabbing the phone to punch in Eddie’s room number he had given you before their show tonight. You bite your lip nervously as your other hand that’s not holding the phone slowly makes its way into your panties, teasing your own clit as the line rings. Your breathing picks up every second, partly from touching yourself, but the anticipation of hearing Eddie speak to you like you’re some cheap whore also has you reeling.

The phone rings a few times as your heart pounds nervously, you aren’t sure why you are this worked up over phone sex with Eddie, but you needed him to pick up now. On the other side of the phone call, Eddie is rushing over to pick up, he knows it’s you and he can’t wait to tell you all about their show tonight. “Hey Bambi, I’ve been expecting your call.” He says into the phone, your breath hitches, his deep voice causing shockwaves throughout your body. He sounded slightly raspy from singing, and it was extremely hot. “H-hey Eddie.” You whimper out, trying to keep your moans at bay as you pull your panties off, throwing them across the room before you grab the dildo next to you. You run it up and down your slit a few times, teasing your clit before you’re sinking it into yourself slowly. You let out a quite ‘fuck.’ That doesn’t go unnoticed by your metal head. “What’s that sweetheart?” A knowing smirk breaks out over his face, he can hear you, the desperation, the way you’re trying to hold yourself back so he won’t catch on. He caught on very quickly, it wasn’t hard when all he could hear as soon as he picked up was your wet pussy and your breathy little moans that slipped past your lips without you realizing. “I- said fuck.” You mumble out, pushing the toy deeper inside of yourself as Eddie lets out a raspy laugh. “Oh baby, you’re finally using it huh? How does it feel, sweetheart? Are you all stretched out and ready for me?” He asks, you nod and realize he can’t see you before you let out a soft ‘yes’ as you buck your hips up, pulling the fake cock in and out of yourself as fast as you can go. “Need you.” You whisper, moaning as you hit the spot you’ve been searching for. Your legs shake as you try to keep moving your arm but it’s all becoming too much. “You sound so cute baby, all needy for me, it’s too bad I’m not there honey I would have my cock so far inside that cunt, fucking you so deep you’d feel it in your fucking stomach.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his words, you quickly pull the toy out of yourself before you’re sliding off of your bed, bringing the phone down with you as you push the dildo against the floor, suctioning it before you’re hovering over it. “Are you going to ride it for me like I asked you to?” He says, you can hear a slick sound from the other end of the call and you know his fist is wrapped around his cock right now, furiously stroking himself as he imagines exactly what you look like right now. “Yes-sir.” You say, sinking yourself down until you’re resting against the fake balls at the bottom of the dildo, you’re so full you can feel yourself throbbing harder and harder as the seconds go by, listening to your boyfriend tell you every dirty thought he’s had about you while you’ve been away. There’s one particularly naughty one that has you reeling, he’s telling you how he wants to fuck you on stage, in front of everyone to show them who you belong to, he asks if you’d like that and you can’t even get out words. You’re a babbling crying mess as you bounce yourself down onto the cock, over and over, tears rolling down your cheeks as Eddie taunts you. He loves it when you’re this way, he’s laughing at you as you whimper, and beg him to let you cum. “Hmmm, I dunno sweetheart, do you think you deserve to cum on a cock that’s not mine?” Your legs ache as you hold onto your nightstand with your other hand, going as fast as you can without falling over, your body is getting weaker by the second, you can hear Eddie trying not to moan, his breathing is ragged and all you can imagine is his sweaty chest heaving up and down as he tries to hold back from cumming for you.

“Yes! Fuck yes please sir, I can’t do it anymore let me cum on this dick Eddie please.” You whine, your own slick is running down your thighs, causing the floor to be a mess, your heart is pounding as you look up, catching a glimpse of yourself in your floor mirror, your pussy is stuffed full, clenching around your toy. You look like a complete whore, cheeks flushed, your hair is stuck to your face, drool is running out of the corner of your mouth that you didn’t even realize was there. “Fuck, you can cum Bambi, I know exactly what you look like right now and it’s delicious, I can’t wait until I come back home from tour baby, gonna fuck you on every surface of your house.” You almost drop the phone as you stop bouncing, your clit throbs as you begin to cum harder than you can remember cumming for a long time. “Thank you, Eddie oh-oh my god!” He laughs again on the other end, jerking himself a few more times before his jaw is clenching, his stomach tenses as he cums to the sounds of your pleasure. “That’s it baby give me all of your cum, little whore.” He moans, his fist now covered in his own release.

The only thing that can be heard is the both of you coming down from your highs, your heavy breathing in sync as you pull yourself up and off of your floor, the dildo slips out of you easily as you stand up on your wobbly knees, gripping the phone as if your life depends on it. You fall back onto your bed, shockwaves still running through your body as you curl yourself up with Eddie’s pillow. “I miss you so bad.” You say, closing your eyes and sighing. “I know baby, I miss you more, we only have two more months and then I’ll be home for a while, I don’t think we’ll leave the bedroom if I’m honest.” You both laugh, as you roll your eyes at him. “Okay horndog.” He snorts, “Says the one who just rode a replica of my dick so hard that she couldn’t speak.” You feel your face heat up as he laughs on the other end. “Okay Mr. Rockstar, no one asked you.” The both of you bicker playfully back and forth, talking for hours slowly slipping into a blissful sleep. You couldn’t wait for Eddie to come home, you knew his jaw would drop when you tell him that you want to ride your dildo and suck him off at the same time. Your little rockstar needed to hurry up and get back to you, so you could thank him for the best Christmas present you’ve ever had.

#eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie smut #rockstar!eddie smut #minors dni

[spicysix]

📖 + "I think... I'm in love with (Name)" || "Congrats on being the last one to find out" prompt w eddie omgomgomg💗 also congrats on 400 angel <33

thank you my loveee 💖💖💖

here comes, hope you like it! (a little dialogue heavy, sorry for that!)

join the celebration!

every day for us, something new

"Gonna make some more popcorn, guys! Get the next one ready," you said, getting up from the couch where you were sitting between Eddie and Argyle.

"Get me another coke, please!" Robin, from the floor, asked.

"Oh, get me another beer, sweetums, will 'ya?" Eddie joined in.

"No one else ask me anything, I don't have hands for more!" you exclaimed before leaving for the kitchen.

Movie nights were routine at this point. After all the trauma and the babysitting and the saving the world, the least you all deserved were some fun nights chilling with your friends. Steve or Nancy would host, you'd all take turns choosing movies for the week, and you'd get together to watch and gossip and just be around each other in non-threatening ways. There was no bond like the one created between life-or-death situations.

Eddie's eyes followed you as you walked out of Steve's living room. Jonathan chuckled.

"What?" Eddie asked and Nancy and Robin groaned in unison.

"You are. So. Dense," Nancy complained.

"I don't think he's dense, I think he's just stupid," Robin completed. Eddie hated how she and Nancy came to sharing a single braincell lately.

"C'mon, let's take it easy on our brochacho. The matters of the heart aren't easy," Argyle said, words all considerate but his smirk was nothing but teasing, and Eddie wanted them all to just shut the fuck up.

There was a loud noise from the kitchen, and Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

"Don't worry, I'm okay!" you called out before anyone could even say anything, to Eddie's relief, and he sat down again.

All of his friends were looking at him funny. What was this plot against him, honestly?

"What's going on?" he asked, waving his arms around in annoyance.

"Dude. Use a single neuron. You'll understand," Steve advised, letting out a dramatically exhausted sigh.

Eddie just stared back at them, one at a time, for several minutes. Trying to find the answers in one of his friends' eyes, or just hoping to be scary enough to make them tell him at once.

"I can't do this, he's the dumbest man alive," Jonathan said after a long while in silence.

What were you even doing in the kitchen for such a long time? Popcorn gets ready in like, five minutes.

"He's never been in love before, maybe he just doesn't recognize it," Steve pitched in, and he knew that information because Eddie had told him once.

What did it have to do with anything?

"What does being in love has anything to do with this? Who's in love here? No one's in lov-" he started, and then he stopped.

Thought about your smile, and that funny little laugh you saved only for his stupid jokes. The way you'd hug him tighter and longer than everyone else. The way you and Robin shared perfumes, a fragrance he didn't really like much, but on you he'd love - something about the way it'd interact with your natural skin smell, and it intoxicated him in the best of ways. He thought about how soft your skin was, and how he loved when you ran your fingers through his hair. He thought about how he thought about you first thing when he woke up, and he thought about you last thing before sleeping. How he thought about you even when asleep - how he'd dream of you, and him, your hands clasped together, your lips on his.

"Oh my god, I think I'm in love," he muttered.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out," Nancy answered. He just looked at her, freezing, hands trembling a little. "What are you thinking about so much, just go!" She nodded at the kitchen and, once again, Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

He practically ran to the other room.

"Steve, your cabinets are a nightmare," you said, back turned to the door as you heard steps.

"Not Steve," he said, and you turned to face him. That smile, the one reserved just for him, on your lips.

"Eddie! Here to help me? Does anyone want something else?"

He just shook his head and walked closer to you. Took your hand on his, and your skin was just as soft as he thought about constantly.

"Is everything okay?" you asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, just came to a realization."

"Care to share with the class?" your words all teasing but your smile was nothing but sweet. He wanted to kiss you.

"I want to kiss you," he said out loud.

Your smile grew wider, "Well, do it, then."

And he did. And it was so much better than in his dreams. Yous lips were soft and tasted of whatever soda you were drinking, and your hands craddled his neck and you sure could feel his pulse going a million miles per second. But he didn't care, because you seemed eager for more, tongue poking at his lips and he let you in, and it was like fireworks exploding inside his head. He feelt fuzzy, and warm all over, and the happiest he's ever been. Because he's in love with you, he realized, and he was kissing you and you were kissing him back.

It felt like years before you separated, both panting a little.

"Oh, man, I like you so much," you mumbled, lips still almost pressed to his so he feelt every vibration in each of your words. It tingled him, head to toe, in and out.

"That's my realization," he responded, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again when you heard steps behind you.

"C'mon, slow lovebirds, where's my damn popcorn? I wanna watch the sequel!" Robin showed up, picked up the popcorn bowl and her coke before leaving again.

You and Eddie laughed, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again.

Neither of you got to watch much of the sequel.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlet #lui's strange celebration #lsc 📖 #lui writes

[flowercrowngods]

Steve startles awake, disoriented and filled with a slight bout of panic — as always when he takes a nap that turns into five hours of deep sleep and catapults him right into the next dimension for a while there.

Heart racing, he blinks his dark bedroom into existence, and it takes him a while to realise where he is and what woke him up.

And then the landline phone on his nightstand rings again, and he exhales deeply before reaching for it with clumsy, sluggish movements.

“‘Ello?”

“Steve,” comes Eddie’s sing-song voice from the other end, washing over Steve in a soothing way that leaves him falling back into the pillows. He clutches the phone to his ear as he closes his eyes, the smile already forming at how happy Eddie sounds. He rarely sings Steve’s name like that. He should do it more often.

“Hi there.” His voice sounds like shit. Like he just took a — Jesus Christ, has it really been four hours? Well. He sounds exactly like someone who took a four-hour nap after a shit day at work would sound like.

There’s fumbling on the other end, but it stops suddenly. “Did I wake you? Shit man, I thought it was past nap time.”

“I don’t have nap time,” Steve grumbles, actually pouting at Eddie’s words and realising only a second too late how ridiculous he sounds.

“Sure, man, whatever you say. We all know you’re actually just a life-sized toddler.”

Steve sputters, sitting up against his headboard as he gradually wakes up. “Hey! Also, I don’t think you actually understand what life-sized means.”

“Yes, I do.”

Steve shakes his head at this ridiculous, ridiculous man. “What exactly do you think a non-life-sized toddler looks like, Eduardissimo?”

“Like Dustin.”

The answer is so quick and deadpan, Steve cannot contain the laugh that bursts out of him, waking him up quicker and gentler than anything else in the world could have, and he revels in the sound of Eddie joining him. He must look so smug right now, and so damn proud of himself. Steve wants to see him. Wants to kiss that smile right from his lips and replace it with something a lot more genuine.

“You’re an asshole,” he says instead, pulling his blanket further around him as he lifts his knees to sit more comfortably.

Eddie hums, still teasing somehow with just that noise, and Steve just can’t stop smiling. “You like me so much, Harrington.”

“Hmm,” he mirrors Eddie’s hum, but even he can hear the smile on his face. “Jury’s still out on that one, actually.”

“Any tendencies yet on the verdict?”

“Nope, they can’t decide.”

Eddie snorts at that, and Steve has no idea how that can sound so sweet. But it does. He buries his smile in his knees for a bit, the blanket hot around his burning cheeks. He’s hopeless.

“Well, let me know as soon as they do, yeah?”

“Will do,” he laughs, ruining all his attempts to sound solemn. “So what’s up? Why’d you call?”

“Oh!” And suddenly it’s like a switch has been flipped and Eddie doesn’t sound teasing and smug anymore, but instead just fucking giddy! “I have a bed now!”

Steve smiles at it. At that voice, that tone, that infectious emotion. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” More fumbling on the other end, and Steve can only imagine that Eddie is rolling around in his newly acquired bed.

Who’s the life-sized toddler now, hm?

“No more sleeping on the floor for this Munson boy, nuh-uh, my good sir! We are in possession of a bed now. A wooden bed, no fancy headboard or anything, just…”

“Just a bed,” Steve says, feeling like he’s about to burst into a million little particles of fondness and affection and the never-ending need to kiss Eddie. To hold him. To touch him in any way he can. “That’s great, Edsie.”

“It is, Stevesie.”

“Man, I hate you so much,” Steve squints at the ceiling and laughs, actually kicking his feet, the minute breeze providing a little relief for the heat in his face.

And Eddie has no business to sound so smug when he says, “Yeah, you do.”

A pause then, and it feels loaded even through the phone. Steve clutches it closer to his face, hoping stupidly that Eddie can feel it.

“You should come hate me in my new bed.”

Steve’s breath hitches, and his brain shuts off for a hot second there. Before he can overthink this, he decides to just… play along. And listen to what his heart has been telling him for months now.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, breathless still, but his whole body tingles with just these two words. With the possibility they bring. The offer that they are. The question. The everything that’s stored in them.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he sounds just as breathless. “I mean, if— If you want to?”

“I do.” Steve swallows. “Right, uh— Right now?”

“Whenever.” And it sounds more like an As soon as possible.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, scrambling out of bed as quickly as possible, pulling off his shirt with the phone still pressed to his ear, letting out an embarrassing noise as it gets tangled in a mess of cord and fabric. He scrambles to free it, almost dropping it in the process. “I’ll be there in thirty.”

“To come look at my new bed?”

“Sure.”

On the other end, Eddie laughs again, but he still sounds just as breathless as Steve does. Just as excited. As fragile. Just as many fucking things.

“Alright,” Eddie murmurs, though Steve can still hear the smile. “I’ll see you then.”

And then he hangs up before either of them can get lost in their own heads about this sudden certainty of change. Steve is grateful for the steady noise of the dial tone reminding him that this is happening. But that nothing has to happen.

It’s a nice bed, he finds hours later, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair who’s cuddling him half asleep. It’s the best fucking bed he’s ever seen, if only because it led to this.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 (lmk if you want on or off)

#listen i have a bed now. assembled it yesterday (actually my brother did i just stood there and looked cute) #and i’m so happy and schmoopy (@myself for myself with myself by myself) about it #steddie fic #steddie #steve x eddie #dio’s steddie ramblings #look yet more fluff from me like wow who dis??? #dio words #i feel so anxious about the permanent tag list like do yall even wanna see silly little things like this 😭😭🙏

[steddiealltheway]

Steve and Eddie witness Robin and Nancy kiss each other goodbye for the first time.

The girls both snap their heads to the boys who just shrug it off. When they leave, Steve and Eddie agree that they wish they could be that close with their friends.

Robin and Nancy continue to kiss each other goodbye, but Eddie and Steve notice that they’ve become more touchy in general.

One time, Steve jokes to Eddie that he wishes they could be more cuddly without being looked at sideways.

“Why can’t we?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs and throws an arm around him. Eddie leans into the touch, cuddling into his side immediately.

The next time the four hang out, Steve and Eddie find themselves witnessing Nancy’s and Robin’s goodbye kiss. “Why don’t we do that, too?” Eddie suggests.

Steve shrugs yet again and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

When the two pull away, they find Nancy and Robin gaping at them weirdly enough. But they also just nod it off and say their separate goodbyes to the boys.

A few weeks later, the four find themselves hanging out with the rest of the party at the Wheeler house. Eddie is dungeon mastering alongside Will in what the other kids call “The most horrific and cruel duo in D&D history.”

Nancy finds herself carding her hands through Robin’s hair as she sits on the floor in front of Nancy, thoroughly entertained. Steve finds himself also watching for the spectacle of it all, which turns out to be mainly Eddie.

As it gets late, Steve finds himself yawning while Robin is fully passed out now in Nancy’s lap.

Eddie calls for a bathroom and snack break and makes his way to Steve. “You know you can go home, right? There’s probably a few more hours left in these kids’ system to power through this part of the campaign. Get some rest, sweetheart, okay?”

Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and asks, “Are you sure?”

Eddie nods with a wide, reassuring smile. Steve quickly leans in and kisses him goodbye.

“Did you two just kiss?!” Dustin yells from the other side of the room.

As the other kids join in on the chaos, Robin stirs rapidly awake. She yells, “What is happening?!”

“Eddie and Steve just kissed!” Mike yells back.

“What’s the big deal? Nancy and Robin do it all the time!” Steve shoots back.

Robin turns bright red as Nancy gapes replying, “Because we’re dating!”

“You’re dating?” Is the most common response among everyone in the room, including Steve and Eddie.

“You seriously didn’t know that?” Robin asks the boys.

Steve can feel the blood drain from his face, and Eddie doesn’t look much better either.

“Wait, if you didn’t think we were dating… are you…” Nancy trails off, taking a deep breath to collect her thoughts, “Are you two not dating?”

“No!” Steve and Eddie yell at the same time with Eddie muttering, “Jesus H. Christ,” afterwards.

“Let me get this straight,” Dustin says. “You two have seen Nancy and Robin kiss what sounds like multiple times, and you assumed they were friends who just… kissed each other? And you came to the conclusion that this was a normal thing that you both also wanted to partake in?”

Steve and Eddie look at each other then back at Dustin and nod. “Sounds about right,” Eddie says and Steve agrees.

Dustin sits down and puts his head in his hands. Robin and Nancy begin giggling to themselves, struggling to get out a few “Sorry”s between laughing fits. Will shakes his head, while Mike is still gaping at his sister and Robin.

Steve and Eddie whisper between themselves, “So, they aren’t friends?”

“No, they are not,” Eddie replies.

“They’re dating,” Steve says.

“They sure are.”

Steve looks Eddie in the eye and asks, “If they’re dating, does that mean we’re also dating?”

Eddie shrugs. “If you want us to be.”

Steve shrugs as well and asks, “Do you want us to be?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Eddie replies causally, trying to hide a wide smile behind his hair.

Steve turns towards the group and announces, “Eddie and I are also now dating!”

This leaves the group in absolutely hysterics especially when Lucas clambers down the stairs asking, “What did I miss?”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #fruity four #the fruity four #steddie ficlet #steddie crack

[fastcardotmp3]

welcome to dot drops something that's been sitting in her tumblr drafts for 4 months Saturday I hope you enjoy your visit mwah! Steddie; Ballet AU; Dancer!Steve; mentions of cancer treatment; 1.5k words

Dress rehearsal is supposed to be a mess.

That's the point of it, really, to get all the mistakes out of your system and start the actual show run with a clean slate. Or at least, that had been the point of which they'd all convinced themselves when Steve was the one performing.

Bad dress meant good show, or so the old adage went, and so at least there was some ease of worry with the collective understanding that it won't happen on the night within the company.

That was the case when Steve was a student, when he was an apprentice, even during his time in the big leagues at Joffrey, but right now? At the end of a truly abysmal dress in this run-down theater on the edge of a town from which he'd once run away?

Steve is not the performer. He's the guy in charge.

And so he spirals.

He'd never wanted to be a director or an instructor or the head of a studio like this. It had never been in his plans. Steve was a man of action, where the people who do these jobs are the brains behind the operation.

Steve knows how to work hard, how to force his body and even his mind into submission until he gets the steps just right, but this? These past six months back in Hawkins temporarily helping out?

(God, please let it be temporary.)

He's not built for this. He's sitting center stage after everyone has left with only half the house lights to illuminate his misery and he's not. Built. For. This.

Not built for being a mentor or a leader or a role model; not built to handle the strenuous nature of his mother's legacy; not built to carry the name she's made for herself as a teacher and a choreographer and a shaper of young dancers.

Steve's not built for it!

They'd had a shitty fucking dress.

"Hey, uh, you gonna be a while? I kinda need to close up for the night."

The voice echoes across the empty space, bouncing off the high ceiling and straight up to land on the Marley floors at Steve's feet. The stage isn't built for dancers, much like Steve isn't built to be here, so they'd had to pull up the floors from the studio and drag them halfway across town just to roll them out here.

"Hello? Are you, like, alive up there?"

Steve sighs. "Yeah," he calls back, catching sight of the figure talking to him at the back of the theater, the young guy who runs the place and who Steve met a grand total of three days ago. His name is Eddie and he dresses more like he's running a music venue than a local community theater, but he's mostly stayed out of Steve's way so far. "Sorry, I'll get outta your hair."

"Sure," Eddie says, but he's just sort of leaning against the back wall by the window to the sound and lighting booth without an ounce of urgency to him as Steve drags himself to his aching feet and lugs his three separate bags of show stuff onto his shoulders.

There's an energy to an empty theater, one which has held a performance and one which now holds the ghosts of that performance, which tugs at the anxieties sitting buried deep beneath the more immediate ones.

Fears about his mom's health, about what will happen to the studio if she doesn't win this particular battle, about what will happen to him.

There's an energy here in the creak of the steps which lead down off the front of the stage and there's an energy to the plod of Steve's sneakers up the long, racked aisle between the seats.

There's an energy, but it's also not empty, is it.

"Hey, good show, dude," Eddie says, pushing off his wall as Steve grows nearer. "Like, talented kids you've got there."

Steve scoffs before he can help himself and then pinches the bridge of his nose in a grimace for not being able to help himself.

"Uh, yeah, thanks," he grits out, thinking about his bed. Thinking about how he never made time for dinner and he has to be here early again tomorrow.

"Wow, resounding confidence on this one," Eddie snorts, and when Steve opens his eyes it's to genuine amusement, genuine curiosity in the tilt of a head and furrow of a brow.

"No, just," he shakes his head, "you should see 'em when they're really on their game, y'know?"

Eddie hums, and when did Steve come to a stop right in front of him? He's leaving. He has to leave. Go home. Think about all the spacing corrections he needs to fix tomorrow and run through with the girls before show time.

"Bad dress, good show though, right?"

Steve startles. Maybe a little too visibly because Eddie is actively holding back laughter at the sight of him.

"What, I've worked at a theater for four years and I'm not supposed to pick up a thing or two about the ballet?" he snarks good-naturedly. "Caroline, the lady who did your job before you, she was a chatty one, taught me everything I know about Giselle."

It's a knife between the ribs. It's a soothing sort of heat, like from a roaring bonfire.

"You--" he clears his throat, "you know Caroline?"

"Highlight of the job honestly, before she retired," Eddie shrugs.

"She didn't retire."

"Oh. She...?"

"Chemo," Steve doesn't know why he's saying it all so willingly, why after months of trying to run the studio without having to talk about how's your mom doing, sweetheart? he's opening up to this stranger with the curly hair and curious eyes. But he knows her. He's-- Well, he knows her. "I'm just here to-- to fill in until she can come back. So."

Eddie is studying him now. Curious eyes turned intelligent, knowing, sad with the weight of realization.

"You're the wonder boy," he says on a breath like oh, I get it now.

"The what?" Steve balks.

"Her kid," Eddie says like it's simple. He's leaning against the wall again, like he's not planning on getting back to work anymore, "she was-- Shit, man, she loves the hell outta you. Oh, you should see my son, he's in Les Corsaire this season! Oh, my boy, he's just gotten promoted to soloist, he'll be a principal in no time! Oh, the talent on him, the--"

"Okay, okay, Jesus," Steve cuts him off, a half-hysterical laugh bubbling up out of his chest in the process.

"You should tell her I say hi next time you see her," Eddie isn't remotely deterred by having his little, lilting performance derailed. There's a softness to him that deserves a smaller space, walls less prone to echo.

"I will," Steve nods. His bags grow heavy on his shoulders.

"And you should chill out a little bit," he says, this time with the kind of glint to his eye that needs a bigger space, needs to be up on the stage to the point where it has Steve floundering, "y'know, about the the shitty dress that, between you and me," he leans in conspiratorially, close enough to feel the heat of his breath, "wasn't really all that shitty."

Steve sucks in a breath.

It strikes him somewhere old, the reassurance, somewhere young deep inside of him. The comforting from a mother that if he just works hard enough he’ll land that double tour in fifth some day soon, the unbroken promise that she would never give him special treatment as the son of the studio owner, but that she would never hesitate to reward him when he’d earned it on his own.

It strikes him because no one tells you how little reassurance the guy in charge is ever offered and it strikes him because it’s been such a long day and it strikes him because—

“Hey, have you had dinner yet?”

Eddie’s eyebrows lift high on his forehead and Steve sees it, the attitude on this dude that his mother absolutely would have loved in an instant. There’s a performer in there, even just in the brief interaction they’ve shared so far. There’s a spotlight pointing inwards and a show begging to be dragged out.

“No,” Eddie drags out slow and curious, “you offering, ballet boy?”

Steve needs a sounding board and he needs another set of eyes and he needs his mom to be okay and the show tomorrow to prove that he can handle this for her if she’s not, but maybe what he needs most right now, on the other side of a spiral in a dark and echoing theater, is this.

“Meet me at Benny’s in thirty,” he says simply as he makes his way for the door. “Since you’re such an experienced test audience.”

Eddie’s responding laugh is bright and his eyes glitter with curious amusement and maybe this is what Steve needs because maybe all of this is one big rehearsal at a big new life in and old small town.

And maybe this is his chance to make a mess of it. At least until the real show starts.

#dot fic #dot post #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dancer!steve #community theater!eddie #sometimes i realize i have over 50 drafts and just need to clear one out for my sanity and today is that day fdjlsakf #one day i'll write a fleshed out dancer steve au but for now have some of This

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 32

part 1 | part 31 | ao3

cw: explicit sexual content, smoking

"Holy shit," Steve gasps as he shudders through aftershocks. Holy shit. Holy shit. He's never coming alone again; wonders if he could get away with asking Eddie to record some sort of audio for future use, because- because fuck.

Eddie's incredible. Made him tease himself for what felt like hours — featherlight caresses over his stomach, his hips, his thighs — and when he finally let him come, Steve nearly fucking died. Supernovas in his vision, trumpeting angels in his ears. Alpha and Omega; the beginning and the end type of shit. His heart went all off rhythm, and his entire body shook, and that melted honey feeling crystalized inside his chest; a sugar cube embedded in the center of his heart.

"Holy shit," Eddie echoes on the tail of a breathless laugh. He looks just as fucked out as Steve feels, flushed and fucking gorgeous, and Steve hears him shuffling around behind him; tucking himself back into his shorts, taking off his ruined shirt. He wipes his sticky hands on the fabric then moves to clean Steve up, using his t-shirt as a rag; dragging it over Steve's stomach, his pubes.

Steve giggles. "That tickles!"

"You're welcome," Eddie grins. He tosses the shirt onto the floor, and Steve moves to take his off.

"Here," he offers, "take mine." The thing's rucked up under his armpits, probably a little gross from sweat, but he doesn't want Eddie to be cold, and he especially doesn't want him to get up to find a new one. Feels like he might evaporate if Eddie leaves right now.

Eddie pushes him back down gently, and when he looks at him, it feels... reverent.

Like adoration.

Sugar cubes.

"Nah, Stevie." He bends to kiss his forehead with a wet, playful smack. "You keep it."

Steve settles back between his thighs and peppers kisses over the tattoos he can reach, stopping at one he asked about earlier. The fluffy cloud, the sleeping fox. "Will you tell me about these now?" Another kiss. "If you want."

Eddie sighs and sits up straighter; lights himself a cigarette. He pokes at each tattoo in turn, the skin dimpling under his touch, and says, "Fox, and Skye. My half-siblings."

"You have siblings?"

"Sure do. Four and seven last time I saw ’em. And yes,” he adds with a smirk in his voice, “my mom was a dirty hippie, in case their names didn’t make that abundantly clear.”

Steve laughs under his breath. "I see why you didn't want to talk about that before."

He traces the outline of the art; thinks about all the other stuff he doesn't know about Eddie, about his life outside of school, outside of Hawkins. Startles himself a little with how badly he wants to learn.

“Son of a bitch…” Eddie whispers. He sounds like he’s talking to himself, and when Steve glances up at him, his gaze has drifted to the middle distance, staring somewhere past the mirror and the guitar hung on the wall.

“What is it?” Steve asks. A dark smudge of anxiety cuts through the afterglow. It's probably nothing, but three years of fighting monsters has set him permanently on edge.

“Nothing," Eddie assures, blinking fast to snap himself out of it. "Sorry. I'm just— just realizing they’re both way older now." He licks his upper lip; clucks his tongue. "Jesus. I haven’t seen them since ’79.”

Oh. “How come?” He probably shouldn’t ask. Feels intrusive and rude.

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. “Oh, you know,” he answers, and his tone is flippant, swooping melody, but Steve can hear the vulnerable quiver lurking just below. The slightest tremor; a flicked bass string. “Pretty classic tale. Mom remarried, I was the moody teenage step-son getting in the way of the guy’s fresh start. Also,” he sucks in another puff of smoke, croaking on the exhale, “turns out hippies can be homophobes, too, so...”

“Wait, seriously?” Steve twists to sit upright, to spring into action, as if he’s about to— what, exactly? Fight the past on Eddie’s behalf? (He’d do it, for the record, but he’s pretty sure it’s not an option. Not unless one of El’s siblings knows how.) "Eddie, that sucks; I'm so sorry."

“Down, boy,” Eddie snorts, voice gone husky from the smoke. "It's fine; it's old news."

He clearly doesn't care to wallow when he just got his rocks off, so Steve eases himself back down; borrows the cigarette. When he hands it back he jokes, "Should I be worried that it’s, like, kinda hot when you talk to me like I'm a dog?”

Eddie hollers out a laugh, his head knocking against the wall, all those wild curls bouncing around his shaking shoulders. "Jesus Christ. You're fucking dangerous," he beams.

Steve smiles back; pokes the comic bubble on Eddie's knee. "You like danger."

"Little shit.” He rolls his eyes and smiles, softer now, biting it back. The cassette reaches its end. A peaceful hush falls over the room. "Yeah. I guess I do."

—

Later, when the moon is high and the weed's all gone and sleep tugs at their eyelids like a needy kid; when they're curled on their sides face-to-face on the bed, Eddie reaches across the gap between them and says, "Stay?"

Steve takes his hand; brushes his lips over bare knuckles. "Kiss me?"

"In the morning," Eddie promises. "If you still mean it, ask me then."

—

part 33

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Truth Serum

TW: Forced outing, drug use without consent

It was all over. The battle was won, and the town would soon stitch itself back together. Eddie and Steve somehow found themselves being questioned by the government goons together. Eddie had killed Vecna, and Steve knew that they would question his loyalty, considering he was no longer human. Steve wasn't about to let them do anything to him.

"Names?" The goon asked.

"Don't you have them already?" Eddie asked.

"Names?! I won't ask again," he replied.

"Fine. Eddie Munson," he told them.

"And you?"

"Steve Munson," Steve said and then he froze.

Eddie whipped his head at him, staring at him shock. Steve’s throat went dry, and he grabbed the glass of water on the table. He drained it.

"Hmm, I have something different. Are you brothers?" He asked.

"No, no, no! I do not want to be brothers with him," Steve said quickly.

"Why not?" The goon asked.

"Because I'm attracted to him sexually," Steve said and slapped a hand to his mouth. "Why did I say that?"

Eddie looked at him in shock, his expression a mixture of surprise and a little bit of hope.

"Mr. Harrington, what's your sexual orientation?" The goon asked.

"Bisexual," Steve said quickly. "Wait? I didn't want to tell you that!"

"Dude! The water," Eddie asked and stood up. "What the fuck did you put in the water?!"

"Just a little truth serum," he said.

"So, not only did you drug us without our consent, but you also outed Steve," Eddie said. "Fuck you. I'm getting Hopper."

"Mr. Munson, please, sit down," the man said, gripping his arm.

Eddie hissed and pulled his arm out of his grip. He popped his head out of the room.

"HOPPER!" Eddie shrieked. "THESE MOTHERFUCKERS - "

He didn't have to holler for long. Hopper had already been on his way to them. He looked really pissed now, though.

"Did I say you could question them without me?" Hopper asked and turned to Steve. "What did they do?"

"Don't -," Eddie started.

"They drugged me with truth serum, had me talk about my sexual feelings for Eddie, and then made me reveal that I'm bisexual!" Steve said quickly and slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Fuck," Eddie cursed.

"We needed to see if Mr. Munson would be affected by the truth serum," the goon said. "He was supposed to drink the water too."

Hopper laughed, but not the kind that one would associate with something funny. No, it was the kind of dark laughter that meant Hopper was about to fuck shit up. He raised his arm and, with one quick slug, knocked the goon out. He slumped to the floor.

"Don't fuck with any of my kids," Hopper spat.

"Dude's unconscious, I don't think he can hear you, man," Eddie said.

"Steve, are you okay?" Hopper asked softly, ignoring Eddie.

"Yes and no," Steve said with a snort, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

"I want you to know that I don't have a problem with who you are. In fact, I think who you are is pretty damn great, kid. Although your taste in men is questionable, it could be worse," Hopper said dryly.

Steve laughed and let Hopper pull him into a hug. Eddie let them have their moment, and when they broke apart, he glared at Hopper.

"I'll have you know that I think his taste in men is fantastic," Eddie grinned. "It's as fantastic as my taste in men."

Eddie smiled gently, giving Steve a knowing look.

"Really?" Steve asked hopefully.

"Really."

"You know, you could have easily taken that guy out," Hopper said.

"Shit. I keep forgetting about my super strength," Eddie frowned.

The door opened again, and Dr. Owens popped his head in. He sighed at the man on the floor.

"What happened?" Dr. Owens asked.

"What happened is that your guy force fed my kid truth serum," Hopper scowled.

"Damn. I'm sorry, Mr. Harrington, about all of this. It should wear off in the next 24 hours. In the meantime, you're welcome to go home," he said. "Your car is out front."

"I'll take him home," Eddie volunteered.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. We still need to run - "

"He said that he'll take him home," Hopper glowered.

"Right."

Once Hopper made sure they made it through the gaggle of kids waiting for them in the lobby, Steve drove them away in his car. He sighed in relief when they made it through his front door.

"You know, there's something I know we could do without talking," Eddie wiggled his eyebrows.

Steve closed the front door and pressed Eddie up against it. He kissed him, and Eddie smiled against his lips.

"Quite eager there, aren't you. . .Mr. Munson?"

"Seriously. . . Shut up."

"Make me."

"Honestly, if those assholes are the reason why this is happening now. I'm glad it happened," Steve said. "The amount of time we spent together was short, but I think I really can see a future with you, Eddie Munson."

Eddie Munson was speechless and hid behind his hair.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet