#i just thought about how long its going to be until steve and eddie kissed and got dizzy see yall complete only ficcers next millennia

[grandwretch]

only i must wander, pt 2

[on ao3][pt 1]

content warnings: non-graphic discussions of racism, bigotry, murder, and child abuse. i go into more detail on ao3.

Before Steve even had a chance to breathe, Robin was human again. A furrow in her brow creased her smooth skin, frustration at the forced woge evident. Her eyes– blue, Steve noted, unlike the gold they had been a moment before –held Steve's gaze for a moment before sliding away. 

Her quick return to humanity did not negate the familiar rush of adrenaline. Steve's body had locked up the moment her eyes had flashed at him, torn between two instincts. Just as he'd feared, the forefront of his mind was focused on violence. The enemy wasn't moving, unarmed and currently disguised as a human, but that only meant that Steve had the advantage; There was a blade on the far counter, dull but usable, and if he needed to run, there was a window over her shoulder. 

He'd probably survive the fall. 

But as much as his body wanted to shove his new manager– Seriously, what was that guy's name, again? –to the side and lunge for the knife, Steve refused to give in. Hopper had told him he could power through these instincts, but it didn't feel like fighting. It felt like hiding. Like he if he didn't move, didn't breathe, then the terror of his own brain couldn't find him. 

The manager said something. Steve didn't hear, didn't care, all of his senses attuned to Robin and her every move. 

Robin stood, and Steve felt his entire body shift. It wasn't a flinch, not so much movement that the manager would clock it, but he… His fingers twitched into loose fists, his posturing changing as his hips and feet moved to a more dynamic stance. It didn't look like much, just a nervous guy fidgeting on his first day at work, but Steve could feel his body revving up for a fight. 

And judging by the look in Robin's eyes, she might actually give it to him. 

"I can show him around the back," Robin said, smiling at the manager. "We used to go to school together. It'll give us time to catch up." The friendliness on her face was obviously fake, plastic-y and barely an effort. But if the manager noticed, he didn't care. 

"Good looking out, Rob. I needed to give Patrick his break, anyway," he said. "Steve, I'll see you in about thirty minutes to finish up your paperwork?" 

It hurt to make himself nod, his body unwilling to give in to the extraneous movement. Stilted though it was, the manager was happy enough to accept it. He smiled, nodded, and left them alone in the room. 

The woge had rippled back across Robin's face before the door even shut behind him. Now that he was expecting it, Steve could see more of the details of her second face. Unlike Dustin, the fur sprouting on her face was mostly white, and it faded into the same reddish-brown as her hair. Her teeth and nose lengthened, a subtle snout protruding from her face. The biggest change, however, was her eyes: They glittered gold, larger and more fierce than her human gaze. 

Steve wasn't great at this Wesen thing yet, but Dustin had told him that tons of Wesen had attributes of animals, and Robin was obviously one of them. Would knowing which one help him in a fight? She was obviously something furry and mean, like some kind of cat… Or maybe a fox? 

Robin met his curious gaze, and Steve watched her face grow even angrier at what she saw there. 

Before Steve could even wonder which sins she saw reflected back in his eyes, Robin was taking large, furious steps towards him. 

Not even Steve's dedication to not hurting anyone could power through his need to not be murdered in an ice cream shop by an angry Wesen. He gave up on the idea of the blade– It was too far, on the other side of teeth and claws, and he wasn't willing to risk it for a sub-par weapon. Instead, he reached out for the first thing he could get his hands on. 

It turned out to be an ice cream scoop. 

Steve had half a mind to be embarrassed of his own instincts, but in the next breath a hundred scenarios flooded through his mind. He could use the handle as brass knuckles, use the added force to break her nose, pushing the cartilage into her brain. But would the Wesen bone structure allow for it? He couldn't be sure. That was why he obviously had to go for the eyes, using the slight point of the scoop to remove an eye from the socket. But– 

Bile rose in his throat, and Steve forced himself to swallow even as plan after plan sprouted fully-formed in his mind. 

"Please don't make me hurt you," he said, his voice shaking in his throat. "I really don't want to hurt you." 

The plea only deepened the disgust on Robin's face, and she took one more step towards him. Steve planted his feet, twirling the scoop to reverse his grip when she bared her teeth at him. He would definitely have to take a few teeth out first. 

"Why am I not surprised that King Steve is a fucking Grimm?" Robin growled, the unfamiliar word like a curse in her mouth. It was obviously supposed to mean something to him, supposed to hurt, but the best Steve could do was confusion. 

Confusion so deep, in fact, that it helped dull the rage and terror that Steve couldn't tame. He felt his muscles relax by centimeters, the energy going instead towards trying to figure out what the fuck that was supposed to mean. 

"What the fuck is a Grimm?" 

He would have thought it was his Wesen name, although it didn't exactly sound like Hexenbiest or Eisbiber. It sounded English, in fact, and although Dustin had lectured him a thousand times about why German and English sounded so similar, the familiarity unsettled Steve a bit. Sure, 'beast' wasn't exactly something you wanted to be called, but Steve was willing to say that 'grim' was a fair bit closer. 

"Please," Robin scoffed. When Steve could only blink at her, shrugging, her face changed to something that almost resembled pity. "You're kidding." 

"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about," Steve said. "What is that? A Grimm, I mean. Is that– Is that what I am?" 

Without another word, Robin dropped the woge and turned away from him, picking up the book she had abandoned on the table. 

"Look, I'm sorry that we got off on the wrong foot. I'm new at this Wesen thing, so I don't really know how to stop the eyes from giving people the wrong idea, but if you– If you know what I am, then maybe you could–" 

Laughter cut him off, and Robin shook her head, turning back around. "I'm not really interested in teaching a future serial killer how to do his job, thanks." 

Steve faltered. "I… what?" 

"Look, I don't care what you do outside of work. Do what you need to. But stay the fuck away from me, okay?" 

She wasn't meeting his eyes, Steve noticed. Not even really looking at him at all, even though it meant she was at a disadvantage if he attacked. It was just the tiniest gesture, submissive where everything else had been primed to offend, and Steve realized with a sinking stomach that she was scared. Robin was terrified of him, not in the way that El had been, but as a person. 

The adrenaline had long since faded, and Robin was still afraid that he would kill her. 

"I'm not…" Steve panted. "I wouldn't…." 

Robin didn't wait for him to find his words. She was out the door before he had even caught his breath, leaving the door banging behind her. 

It had been hell getting through the rest of the shift. It was, blessedly, a short one, more of an orientation than anything, but Steve still couldn't focus for more than five minutes. His brain kept repeating the words Robin had thrown in his face.

A future serial killer. What the fuck had that meant?

Steve didn't go home after his first shift. He had planned to, planned to celebrate with a long, hot shower and some take out. The anxiety that crept up when he was finally alone in his car didn't care what Steve had planned, however. Normally, he would have just called Dustin to puzzle it over, like he usually did with every other perplexing social interaction, but Dustin was only allowed one phone call a day, which meant Steve got to talk to him once a week. It was a blessing that Claudia had afforded him Sundays, honestly. So Steve turned to the only other person in this town who could put up with him for more than five minutes. 

Hopper didn't even bother to act surprised when Steve knocked on his door. "Rough day at work?" he said, a grin curled around the cigarette he had tucked into the corner of his mouth. 

"Wesen coworker," Steve said. 

That was enough explanation, apparently. "Fuck, kid," Hopper said, stepping back so Steve could slip past him into the living room. "You can't catch a break, huh?" 

"I… handled it better than I thought I would," Steve admitted as he crossed the room to throw himself onto the couch. "I almost threw up afterwards, but I didn't let it control me again." 

He heard the door close, and Hopper's heavy footsteps on the floor behind him. Steve couldn't see him from where his head lolled on the couch cushion, but he could see Hopper's shadow reaching across the floor. That was enough. 

"See, I knew you could do it," Hopper said, over the distinct sound of a fridge door opening. 

Steve huffed, thinking about the things Robin had said to him. Had called him. "She knew what I was," he said, because it felt wrong to acknowledge the praise when he was pretty sure he didn't deserve it. "Called me a Grimm." 

"That…" Hopper sounded as confused as Steve felt. "Now, I don't speak German, but I'm pretty sure that's just English." 

"I don't fucking know anymore, man. From what Dustin's been telling me, I think they might be the same thing." 

"Wouldn't that be useful?" Hopper scoffed. The fridge closed. "Did she bother to explain what it meant?" 

"N… no?" Steve swallowed. "I asked, but she wouldn't really…" 

Hopper rounded the couch and held an already sweating can of beer out. Steve accepted it with shaking hands. 

"She didn't say it like it was a nice thing," Steve said, finally. "Honestly, I think she assumed I was there to kill her." 

That certainly made Hopper pause. Steve watched him pause, halfway into his recliner, before finally forcing himself to complete the motion. They didn't speak for a moment, but Steve couldn't bring himself to drink. The idea of anything on his churning stomach made him sick. 

"Does it… matter?" Hopper said, eventually. 

Steve laughed, a strained, choking thing. "Does it matter?" he repeated, "Does it matter that apparently my entire– my entire species is supposed to kill people? Yeah, Hop, I would say it does." 

"That's not how–" Hopper shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Listen, don't go talking to Dustin about what I'm about to say, but from what I've heard from Claudia Henderson, I sometimes get the feeling that these Wesen folk are racist as hell." 

Steve blinked. "I don't think it's really the same thing." 

"Yeah?" Hopper's mouth twisted, a smile that made Steve shiver. "You weren't here when she was trying to explain to me what El was. Some of the stuff she said… She's not human, either, but she talked about El like she was worse than a monster. Like she would kill all of us in our sleep if we gave her the chance." 

Steve thought about it. It felt wrong, like a pebble in his shoe, to think about himself that way. He'd been very lucky growing up, he knew that. He had the money, the right looks, the right family. He couldn't imagine himself dealing with the same things that Lucas had gone through, for instance. But… Steve also thought about the things Dustin said, sometimes, about his mom not letting him be alone with El, how Steve himself probably wouldn't be allowed within five feet of him anymore when she discovered that Steve wasn't human. 

It wasn't the same thing, not at all, but it still didn't feel good.

"I'm not saying that she was right," Steve said, slowly, "but my instincts…" 

"You're not a fucking animal, kid," Hopper grunted. "Don't let them treat you like one." 

He raised the legs of his recliner, settling into the cushion with a pointed silence. The conversation was over, as far as Hop was concerned. 

Steve tried to be okay with that. Tried to be okay with the idea that they were wrong, not him. Every day, he woke up and tried again. It never really stuck. Some days were better than others. Some days, Steve could almost brush off Robin's glare without a single pang of guilt. Some days, Steve felt human. Most days he didn't. There was a voice in his head that said they were right, that it might be for the wrong reasons, but there was something wrong with him.

Robin only made it worse. Steve had tried to keep out of her way, but there were only so many excuses that could keep them off the same shifts. When they did work together, Robin never let up– He tried to keep quiet, keep his head down, but she would always find something to say. 

It was never nice. Of course. After a while, she didn't even seem fearful, just disgusted at his existence. Everything Steve did was under scrutiny, with Robin insulting everything from his hair to his customer service. Once, during a particularly intense rush, she hissed at him for breathing 'like a beast'. 

That's what she said. Like a beast. 

El was the only thing that helped. Hopper didn't understand, and Dustin was away at camp, but El was always happy to see him. Steve didn't talk about it much, not wanting to unload the mess in his head on a little girl, but Steve was sure El got it, anyway. 

Steve didn't know what Mrs. Henderson told her about being a Hexenbiest. He didn't want to know. Avoiding her was awkward enough without actively wanting to rip her apart for making El feel bad for something she couldn't control. 

And, yeah, he got the irony– It was different for El, okay? 

Hanging out with El was different than hanging with Dustin and the others. While the boys left Steve with the same happy, tired feeling as a good swim meet, El made him feel… grounded. Restored. He didn't know if that was personality or power, but he was sure that was the only thing keeping him sane. 

After bad days, Steve would drive straight to the cabin. Hopper would always roll his eyes and grouse about Steve keeping his daughter up all hours, but he never actually turned Steve away. (Besides he loved it when El would kick Mike out for Steve. He never laughed harder.) They would commandeer the couch, chasing Hopper off to the kitchen nook, and watch movies or music videos Steve had taped. Sometimes, El read out loud to Steve, instead; Her vocabulary was improving in leaps and bounds. Once night settled fully, they would go out onto the porch and talk until El couldn't form words around her yawns. 

They never talked about the Wesen thing. Everything else was fair game, though. Sometimes it was simple things, like what it was like to love a Wheeler, or if Lucas and Will would like the book they just finished. Sometimes El talked about the lab, about the siblings she'd lost. Sometimes Steve admitted, nervous every time, that when his parents were home he felt like a cornered animal. Max joined them from time to time, the conversations becoming all the more bittersweet. 

Sure, making yet another thirteen year old best friend probably wasn't the healthiest thing Steve had ever done, but it got him out of bed and into work every morning. That was more than enough, for now. 

El must have said something to the other kids, because they started showing up at work more often. Every day, in fact, even when they'd long since run out of allowance to spend on ice cream. They weren't obvious about it, only popping by to tell him about their day or beg for free samples, except for Max. 

Max, ever the protector, loved to come by on days Robin worked. Her new favorite hobby was sitting at a table for hours and yelling over Robin whenever she spoke. Max always got Steve's employee discount. 

"You do not look happy," El said one night. Max had still been in the lobby when Steve clocked out, so they'd driven to the cabin together instead of going home. 

"I'm fine," Steve said, automatically, straightening himself from his slump. 

"He has to work with Robin all next week," Max said, ignoring Steve's noise of protest. "She was complaining about it loud enough for half the mall to hear." 

"Hm." El's eyes narrowed. Then, as if the moment had never happened, she turned towards Steve's stack of tapes. "I want to watch the Muppets." 

Steve really shouldn't have been surprised when El showed up with Max the next day.

The moment he registered her bright, familiar grin, Steve felt his veins go cold. It was a strange, almost alien feeling now to be afraid without the all-consuming adrenaline and rage of his woge. Instead of forcing himself to stay still, he was stuck , unable to do anything but watch Max and El approach the counter. 

"Hi, Steve!" El said, smiling. She looked so happy, all dolled up in new clothes and light makeup, and Steve wanted to be happy for her. He really did. Hopper's voice in his head simply wouldn't let him. 

"You are not supposed to be here," Steve said, voice dropping into a whisper. Max rolled her eyes and Steve felt the anger break through the icy grip of fear, finally letting him round the counter to herd them into the corner. "Did you sneak her out, Mayfield?" 

"It's the mall, Harrington," she sniped, crossing her arms. "No one's looking for her here. She'll be fine." 

"Government agents and mad scientists have to shop, too," Steve said. "... Probably."

El leaned into Steve's side, pouting up at him. Which, honestly, was cheating, because El knew that Steve had never been able to say no to puppy dog eyes. When she finally let Dustin in on that trick, his life was officially over. He could already feel himself starting to waver. 

"We came to help," El said, wrapping her arms around Steve's waist. "Don't be mad." 

"I'm not…" Steve took a deep breath. "I'm not mad. I'm worried. There's a difference." 

Max was no longer paying attention. Instead, she was staring at the front counter, face drawn into a tight scowl. "El. That's her." 

Robin stood at the counter, obviously staring. Not at the girl who was glaring daggers into her, but El and Steve. It almost didn't register at first; Steve had gotten pretty used to constantly having Robin's attention on him when they worked together. As El calmly returned Robin's stare, however, Steve noticed that the usual anger on Robin's face wasn't present. She looked almost surprised, instead, with a heavy dose of confusion. 

Which made sense, he guessed, if she could tell El was a Wesen. 

He put his hand on El's back, a protective gesture that he hoped Robin would understand as a line in the sand. Her gaze didn't waver. 

"I want to talk to her," El said, voice strangely flat. 

"Absolutely not," Steve said. "She's almost an adult, and you can't fight back without… getting yourself in trouble." 

"Then can I…" 

"No," Steve sighed. "Is this really what you snuck out for? To bother my coworker with your magic powers?" 

"And shopping," Max said brightly. 

El didn't answer. When Steve looked down at her, her cheek still pressed into his uniform shirt, he watched the woge settle across her face. 

" Jane Hopper, " Steve hissed. Over the past weeks, he had gotten more than used to El's Wesen face, and had become as fond of it as he was her cherub-cheeked human form. That didn't mean he was an idiot, though; He knew an intimidation tactic when he saw one. 

He also saw Robin's face go absolutely white as the blood drained from her face. There was a moment where the girls' gazes held, Robin's hypnotized by the black pits of El's, and then Robin squeaked and scuttled into the back room. 

"Guys, you can't…" Steve began, but when Max and El both looked up at him with matching mischievous grins, he couldn't hold back his chuckles. "Thank you, but seriously. Never do this again."

El tilted her head up, chin digging into Steve's stomach, to meet his gaze. "No one is allowed to bully you." 

"That so?" Steve said, a fond smile stealing across his face.

Solemn, El responded, "Will says big brothers need to be protected sometimes, too." 

"Oh." Steve turned the loose embrace into a proper hug, suddenly overcome with affection. His whole life he'd been alone, and now he had two little siblings. How cool was that? He hummed, a hand smoothing down El's curls as she squeezed him tight. 

Max watched them with a look Steve couldn't decipher, the beginnings of a frown on her face. Maybe three little siblings, he corrected himself, and reached one hand out to her. 

"Ew," Max complained, but let herself be pulled into his side anyway. 

"I care about you both so much ," Steve said, voice low. "Which is why you're going home right now, before Hopper finds out you left and you get so grounded I can't see you again until I'm 40." 

"Dad is in Layton," El said, eyes twinkling. "We have hours ." 

"And tickets to Back to the Future," Max said, smug as anything. 

Steve sighed and pushed flyaway hairs back from Max's forehead. "Fine, but be careful. I saw the  boys here earlier. Try to get a ride home with Jonathan or Nance. And stick together ." 

"Okay, mom, " Max said, rolling her eyes as she pulled away. 

El giggled like it was the funniest joke she's ever heard. "Yeah, mom ." 

Steve shook his head and shooed them out, mumbling meaningless threats of narcking to Hopper. Once they were out of his sight, swallowed by the churn of the crowd, Steve felt himself deflate. The performance of big brother kept him afloat, chest filling with warmth, but when he was supposed to be just Steve…

He bit his lip and returned to the service counter, ignoring the unmistakable feeling of a gaze glued to his back. 

The next month flew by much the same as the first had, though if Max and El snuck out again, they knew better than to come to Scoops. Robin's ire, now two months deep, now inspired more melancholy in Steve than frustration. 

It was astonishingly easy to descend into self-pity, lately, and with every insult or smart remark Steve couldn't help but feel he'd lost something. Not just for himself, but for El and Dustin, too. Nothing concrete, but rather a bond, the chance of a connection to the greater Wesen community. A connection that should have already belonged to El and Dustin, denied to them by deception and fear. 

And now by the virtue of loving Steve. 

Steve tried not to dwell on it too much. He kept himself busy, between work and helping Hop at the cabin, and counted down the days until Dustin would be home. Until their tiny pack of three would be complete again. 

The day Steve woke up to a tiny beaver sticker on his calendar, not even Robin could knock the smile off his face. He could tell it bothered her, too, and for once the mumbling under breath only made him smile harder. 

His brother was coming home. 

Steve was on his break when he heard Dustin's voice, clear as a bell, for the first time in months. "Is he here?" 

Robin answered, clearly bored, but Steve paid no mind to what she had to say. He was already out of his seat by Dustin's final syllable. Steve sprinted out of the break room, skidding out of the door as his own speed overwhelmed him. And there he was, Dustin Henderson, a whole two inches taller than Steve had last seen him. 

His smile was blinding. 

"I can't believe you actually wear that," Dustin said, his smile only growing wider. 

"You little shit," Steve said, then leapt over the counter. He didn't put much thought into it, hadn't considered that he might not be able to clear it. He'd only thought– Oh, it would be so much faster to go over than around. And then he'd done it, shoes squeaking on the linoleum as he landed on the other side. 

"Wow, you must have really missed me," Dustin said, and then he said nothing at all, because Steve was scooping him into a hug. 

"I regret it immediately," Steve said, but he didn't let go. If anything, his own gentle teasing just made him squeeze harder, as if Dustin would take his teasing as truth and leave again. "When can I send you back?" 

Dustin slapped him on the back, his usual sign he wanted to be let down, now, please. "If you suffocate me I'm not going to make it until next time." 

"Sorry, man," Steve said. He lowered Dustin to the floor and then stepped back. Through all his sheepishness, he still didn't stop smiling; Not even the embarrassment could dim the sheer relief Steve felt having everyone he loved back in the same city limits. "How was camp?" 

"Who gives a shit? I can't believe they actually hired you!" 

"Fuck off, Henderson, seriously." 

And then, naturally, they fell into their handshake. It was a stupid, geeky tradition that Steve had been pulled into unwillingly, but he had to admit that half the moves were his idea. Even the lightsaber fight, which they had choreographed on Mrs. Henderson's couch after a hearty meal of Christmas leftovers. Steve thought the spilling of his guts was particularly inspired, even if Dustin often complained that disembowelment was both non-canon and unscientific. 

As if the little shit didn't giggle every time. 

"No, but seriously," Steve said as he recovered from his dramatic demise, "how was camp, man? Let me go on my break, you can tell me everything–" 

"Absolutely not," Robin said from the counter. Dustin turned to her, eyebrows raised, and Steve internally sighed. He was not looking forward to explaining all this to Dustin, who was protective on the best days and mocking on the worst. Whatever the kid's opinion would be, Steve was sure it would just make him feel worse. 

Before could even protest the double standard of Robin having already taken two breaks to his zero, Robin did the unthinkable– She woged at Dustin, human teeth already bared before they shifted into fangs. Steve was proud of how Dustin reacted, though, meeting Robin's gaze head-on even though Steve could see his black little nose quiver in terror. The instinctual response woge had settled over Dustin, his fear plain as day, but he didn't give a centimeter. 

Good, Steve thought, as he whirled on Robin. 

Robin's anger matched his own before Steve could even open his mouth, as if he were the one who had been unspeakably rude. As if he was the one making thinly veiled threats of violence in public. As if he were the one who kept woging in public, every time risking more and more exposure. It only made the rage burn brighter. 

"What the fuck is your problem, Buckley?" Steve could tell from the flicker of Robin's golden eyes that he was woged now, too, and he knew he was supposed to fight it. Part of him wanted to try. But for once, the human and Wesen instincts were in complete accordance. No version of Steve Harrington was going to let anything happen to Dustin. 

"I can't believe you," Robin said. There was an animalistic rumble underneath her voice, a vocalization that Steve's ears could only just make out. "The audacity of a Grimm knows no bounds, apparently." 

That word again. Whatever the fuck it meant. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Steve ignored the confused glances Dustin kept throwing his way, the hand clenched in the hem of his shirt. There was no way he was taking his eyes off an angry predator. 

"I thought it was really weird when that little 'biest was here, hanging off of you," Robin continued, "but everyone knows that they're all buddy-buddy with the Royals, so I figured it was business. But this? Preying on a little prey kid? That's low, Harrington, even for you." 

It was a stupid, cruel assumption to make. The kind of thing Tommy would have said in high school. The kind of thing Steve would have laughed at, a few years ago. Now, though, Steve's stomach dropped somewhere he couldn't feel it, leaving only a hollow pit behind. Was it by simple virtue of that word– Grimm, Steve thought with a daze –that made Robin so sure he was capable of something so foul? Or was it something he had done, once, when he had been so desperate for approval? He didn't think that even King Steve at his worst had been so horrible to earn him this. 

Steve stuttered, his breath caught in his throat. Dustin had no such trouble. 

"Hey!" Dustin said, his voice going squeaky with anger. "That's my best friend you're talking to." 

Robin looked at him with as much condescension as Carol Perkins had ever managed, her nose twitching with disgust. "You don't know what he's like, kid." 

Unfortunately for her, Dustin Henderson was the one child on planet earth who didn't deign to even acknowledge being treated like one. "I'm pretty sure I know him better than you . I don't know where you got your information, but Steve has saved my life multiple times, and–" 

"I really don't think she needs to know about all that," Steve said quickly. His heart was rabbiting in his chest just thinking about trying to explain away stories about demodogs and lab experiments to a girl who already hated his guts. 

"Do your parents know that you've been hanging out with a Grimm?" Robin asked, apparently ignoring the saving-Dustin's-life thing. Thank god. 

Dustin stiffened, probably because Mrs. Henderson absolutely would freak if she knew Steve was any kind of Wesen, much less one bad enough for all the shit Robin had been talking. "I don't know what a Grimm is," Dustin said, eventually, his voice oddly stilted. "But it doesn't matter. He's Steve ." 

For once, Robin looked as confused as Steve felt, like, 75% of the time. "You honestly don't know– Hold on." She snapped and turned to Steve. "You. When you said you didn't know what a Grimm was, you just weren't playing dumb?" 

"No," Steve said, and it came out a plea. "My parents never told me any of this shit, if they're even my parents–" And that felt wrong to say, bad to say, because Steve didn't know who he was without being Bradley Harrington's son first. "--and you're only, like, the third Wesen I've ever met." 

"You couldn't ask ?" 

Steve swallowed back the snarky answer, knowing what Robin was really asking. "What was I supposed to do, call my parents up like, 'Hi Mom and Dad, sorry to interrupt your very important meeting, I was wondering if you knew anything about us being monsters'? Does that sound like a conversation I should have on the phone?" It didn't help that Steve was pretty sure the government had been tracking his phone calls since 1983. 

"But…" Robin's eyes narrowed, shifting back to their human shape and color. "You started working here two months ago." 

Steve nodded, stomach churning. "Yeah." 

"So are you going to tell us what a Grimm is or not?" Dustin said. When Steve finally looked over at him, he still looked pissed, arms crossed and glaring, but Steve recognized that sparkle in his eyes. Little shit was ecstatic to be learning the lore behind Steve's whole deal, that was more than apparent. 

That made one of them. 

"I only know what my parents have told me," Robin said, slowly. She wouldn't look Steve in the eyes anymore, which wasn't exactly a great sign. Steve's throat contracted, forcing bile back down. "I've never met one in real life, before Harrington. I honestly wasn't sure they were still real. I thought they were… I don't know, stupid stories that parents tell to make their kids behave, you know? Like the boogie man." 

"But you knew Steve was one," Dustin said. Less of a question, more of an interrogation. Point out their own contradictions, wait for more information. Steve was pretty sure he'd picked that one up from watching Hopper grill Mike. 

"His eyes," Robin said. Her eyes darted up to meet Steve's gaze for only a moment before they fell back to the floor. "The stories all have them. Black mirrors that show you all the worst parts of yourself, every sin you've ever committed. It's supposed to be, like… Making you repent before, you know. They kill you." 

"So I'm a killer?" Steve said, his tongue numb in his mouth. 

Robin grimaced. "Kinda? They used to be… like knights, I think. In service to the Royals– Wait, do you know about the Seven Houses?" 

"The Royals," Steve muttered to himself, in a daze. 

"We'll go back to that," Dustin said, glancing at Steve from the corner of his eye. "What were you saying about knights?" 

"Right, so the Grimms worked as knights while the Seven Houses were establishing their claims in the Wesen world. It was basically a way for them to keep their Wesen subjects in line so that the royals could focus on human affairs. But then… Well, I don't really know what happened, but they stopped being knights and became…" Robin sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. "Vigilantes?" 

"Like Batman?" Dustin asked, disbelieving. 

"More like the Punisher." 

"Can we please talk in a language the person whose existence hinges on this conversation can understand?" Steve asked, his voice rising in volume with every word. 

"I don't know what you want me to say, Harrington," Robin said, her voice coming quicker than he had ever heard her speak before. "They kill people, okay? Sure, it's usually, like, Wesen who have killed humans before or whatever but there are stories of them just going to town on entire packs of predator species before. My dad's even told me of some groups of Grimm who kill Wesen on sight so they don't have the opportunity to commit crimes later. And it's like, do I really think the high school bully is a serial killer? No, not really, but it's really hard to externalize that when I have vivid memories of my mom telling me about how her great-great-great-great-grandmother's head got put on a spike outside the city walls for selling love potion to some stupid humans."

"Oh, that's– Sorry for your loss," Dustin said, automatically. 

Robin raised an eyebrow. "You know I didn't know her, right?" 

Steve heard neither of them through the rushing in his ears. Was it just him, or were the walls closer together than they had been five minutes ago? The floor felt malleable beneath his feet, like he was standing on top of water. Steve stumbled over to a table and sat gingerly, his hands shaking. 

He wasn't exactly sure how long had passed when Dustin came to him, a hand on his shoulder. 

"Steve?" he said, tentatively. "You okay?" Robin stood behind him, concern breaking through her careful nonchalance. 

"Hopper was wrong," he said, thickly. "I am a monster." 

"No–" Dustin began, but Robin cut him off with a scoff. 

"We're all kind of monsters, Harrington, it comes with the territory," she said with a sneer. "At least you still look human." 

"Yeah?" Steve said, his voice cracking. "How many people do you think Dustin's ancestors killed? Matter of fact, have you ever heard of a single Grimm that wasn't a killer?" Even though the question was mostly sarcastic, some part of him still hoped she would defy him, give him some proof that he wasn't meant to be a terrible person. His eyes watched her face twist in embarrassment. 

"Well… no, I haven't," Robin said, eyes darting towards Dustin. 

"Exactly," Steve said, nodding even as his shoulders deflated. "Exactly, exactly. I'm meant to… I'm meant to be a terrible person, and nothing I do– Nothing I've ever done–" Steve took a deep breath, felt it rattle in his chest, heard it wheeze through the throat that was quickly closing around his rising panic. 

"Oh, you're–" Dustin shook his head, turning to Robin. "He's– Do you have a back room?" 

"Uh, yeah, behind the counter," Robin said, blinking. 

"Alright, help me get him back there." 

Things got a little hazy after that. Steve wasn't sure how they got him to the back room, although he had the vague impression of his arms looped over both their shoulders, off jerking away from Robin's touch with a pained noise. The next thing he knew, he was sitting in a chair in the back, Robin perched on the far counter, Dustin's hands on his shoulders. 

"Steve, can you hear me?" Dustin said, and from the lack of inflection in his voice, Steve had the inclination that it wasn't the first time he'd been asked. 

"Yeah," he croaked. 

"Good," Dustin said, relief flooding his face. "I think you're having another panic attack." 

Steve flushed with shame. He hadn't one of those in months, since the chill had finally faded from the air and every night stopped reminding him of junkyards and tunnels and blue Camaros. In comparison, this seemed a little pathetic, but even that small amount of logic couldn't shake the fact that his brain was still sending him signals of flee danger predator run . 

When Steve didn't answer, Dustin squeezed his shoulders. "Do you want to talk about it, or do you want us to leave?" 

"We are not leaving a Grimm whose brain is god knows where alone in the back room where there are weapons– " Robin began. 

"You are not helping," Dustin interrupted through gritted teeth.

"She's right," Steve rasped. "We have no idea what I might do. You've seen what I try to do when my instincts go haywire." 

"You haven't actually done anything!" Dustin said, a none too gentle reminder. His anger was palpable, and Steve thought distantly of Hopper, of how disappointed he would be. Steve was going to be sick. "Remember your theory? You said that you thought the mirrored eyes were more like an evolutionary protection, maybe–" 

"Maybe I was literally born a murderer to protect myself?" Steve asked, laughing as the first tear slipped down his cheek. "I was wrong, Dustin. It happens. All the fucking time, apparently, because I've spent the last two years wondering how to be a good person, when it's impossible." 

"That's not how it–" 

"I'm supposed to kill you, Dustin," Steve said, harshly. "You heard her. You and El should both be dead, and maybe one day you will be." 

Steve watched the stubbornness set into Dustin's face and felt his heart break. He's never really wanted to hurt someone. Not really. That was why he kept losing all those stupid fucking fights, why he let Tommy push him around. Steve wanted to survive, and he wanted to protect, but he's never looked someone in the eyes and wanted to hurt them. But he could feel it in his chest, all the fucking time– that same rage he'd first felt when Dustin woged in front of him. And no matter how much Steve didn't want it, he was sure that one day it would swallow him whole.

"I don't believe that," Dustin said, "not for a fucking second." 

"What about my parents, Dustin?" Steve asked, meeting Dustin's eyes. For the first time, he wished that people didn't see the worst of themselves in his eyes, but the worst of Steve. That would keep them safe, wouldn't it? If they could see into his chest, at the sharp and jagged things there? "They're gone for months at a time–" 

"They're doing business!" 

"And they're all over the country, sometimes in Europe or Asia, and what the fuck do you think they're doing, Dustin? Like actually. Because I haven't bought the business excuse in years, and I know you're smarter than me, so what else could it be? I thought they were partying, or cheating on each other, or even just doing some regular fucking crime, but no–" Steve sobbed, the noise being pulled out of his chest. "Apparently, they might be killing people. What does that make me ?" 

"It doesn't make you anything," Dustin said, jaw set. "Even if you're right, which you're not ." 

"So you're not afraid of what might happen if you're staying the night the next time they come home?" 

Dustin hesitated, and Steve knew he had him. It fucking hurt, every second of it. Felt like removing his own skin with a scalpel, slow and methodical and never-ending, but it had to be done. He had to get Dustin away from danger, and right now the most dangerous thing in Hawkins was him.

"Kid, can you give us a second?" Robin's voice cut through the air and Steve flinched, his entire body twitching as his gaze was ripped away from Dustin. 

Stepping away, Dustin rubbed at his nose in a move that Steve knew had been picked up from him. "Yeah, yeah, sure." He couldn't get out of the break room fast enough, the door swinging behind him. 

"That was fucked up," Robin said as she hopped down from the counter. 

"Wasn't this exactly what you wanted?" Steve said, frustration and resentment built up from the past two months bubbling in his chest. "Him away from the monster?" 

Robin hesitated for a moment, then continued her short walk to the chair across from Steve. As she sat, she said, "I never called you a monster." 

"No, just a serial killer and a beast and a thousand other things around 'monster'," Steve said, rolling his eyes. 

He had honestly expected her to rise to the bait. She was the exact kind that was the easiest to torment, emotions too big for her body and never afraid to speak her mind until it was already out of her mouth. Robin didn't speak this time, though, just looked at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed. 

Eventually, she sighed, and turned away from him. "I'm sorry." 

Steve scoffed, disbelieving. "Okay." 

"No, I am. I… didn't really think about what it might mean if you actually didn't know, and I had no idea that I was putting people in danger by not explaining," she said, her hands in fists on her legs. She still wouldn't look at him, and Steve felt his stomach twist further. He had to get out of here before he vomited on the linoleum. 

"Well, you figured it out, and now they're safe, so if you'll please excuse me–" 

"No," Robin said, stilling him with a glare. "I meant you, dingus." 

"... Dingus?" Steve repeated. It was… oddly juvenile, after all the things she'd called him. 

Robin flushed. "I don't actually think you're, like, a killer or anything. Especially since you obviously haven't killed anyone. I just thought…" Her eyes slid away from him again. "You know, with Barb last year…" 

Nausea hit Steve in the stomach and he had to bend over, pressing his face to the cool surface of the table, to keep himself from gagging. "You thought I killed Barb?" He hated how small his voice sounded, suddenly, nothing like the rage-fueled creature he felt like he was becoming. 

"Obviously I was being an idiot because killers don't fucking have panic attacks in the dark about being a killer," Robin said. Steve wasn't sure that was entirely true, but he got her point. "I mean, like I said before, I stopped believing that shit like two weeks in. If you were actually a serial killer, I would be, like, so dead right now." 

"I never wanted to hurt you," Steve said, tired. 

"I know," Robin said, frowning. "And that's why I'm saying, I was an asshole, and I'm sorry." 

Steve swallowed. "It's fine." 

"It's really not," Robin said. "I could tell it made you upset, and it gave me this sick little thrill to finally know what got to King Steve, you know? Like I finally had something over you. And it made me feel…" 

"Powerful?" Steve suggested when her words trailed off. 

"Yeah," Robin said, her face pale. 

"I get it," Steve said, shrugging. "Why do you think I was such an asshole in high school?" 

Robin gave him a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Well, I never wanted to be that kind of person. So… You know, just because you were born a Grimm doesn't mean you have to be like them." 

Looking away, Steve said nothing. He'd already had the suspicion there was something wrong with him, Robin had just confirmed it. Her taking it back hadn't really changed his mind. Robin seemed to get that, and she squirmed in her seat for a moment. 

"I never told you what I am, did I?" she said, softly.

"... No," Steve said, frowning. "I thought maybe some kind of weasel?" 

That made her laugh, shaking her head as she smiled down at her hands. "Yeah, I guess maybe I deserve that. No, I'm a– I'm a Fuchsbau. A fox." The smile began to slip from her face, fists unclenching and curling back into claws again and again as she spoke. "That's part of why I freaked out so hard when I first recognized you as a Grimm. We're a predator species, you know? But not one of the big guys, not scary enough that they leave us alone. We're just mean . And… and sneaky . And cruel." 

Steve watched her, unable to speak. He had seen a little of that from her, over the past few weeks, so he wasn't entirely sure he was justified in defending her own self-worth, but… even as she said it, something didn't feel right to Steve. Sure, she was dick to him, like, specifically, but Steve had never seen her speak a harsh word to anyone else they worked with. Robin was usually pretty bored with customers, yeah, but she was patient, too. 

And whatever harshness did exist in her, it certainly wasn't subtle .

"That's why my parents moved here, you know. Fuchsbau don't usually have packs, and so it's kinda just… you and a bunch of Wesen who expect you to rip them off at the first chance," Robin continued, "so they came here to try and start fresh. And I don't think they ever really fit into what a Fuchsbau is supposed to be, and most times I'm pretty sure I don't, either, but sometimes…." 

Robin shrugged. "Sometimes I'm afraid it's somewhere inside of me, just waiting to get out." 

Oh. 

This was one of those pep talks that made Steve squirm, the kind where teachers and coaches and counselors all promised Steve that they absolutely understood what he was going through. As if they could understand what he was feeling through the little he'd actually admitted, as if the simple act of relation was enough to soothe the ache in his chest. Knowing other people hurt didn't make him bleed any less, but… it didn't chafe to hear it from Robin, like it did with the dozens of adults before him. He wasn't sure she actually understood, but at least she was trying. At least she wasn't just assuming things. Not anymore, anyway. 

"It's not exactly the same thing," Robin said, when Steve didn't speak. "But I–" 

"No, no." Steve's voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "Thanks. I think I needed to hear that. You're right, it's not exactly the same, but… But I think I might be able to fight this." 

"That's not exactly what I…" Robin said, then shook her head, standing. "Anyway, you should head home for the night." 

Steve blinked up at her. "I'm on schedule until closing." 

Shrugging, Robin said, "We're dead, and, no offense, but you're probably not going to be much help tonight, anyway. I'll cover you. Just… get some sleep, Harrington." 

It was part of an apology Steve still wasn't convinced he completely deserved, but he wasn't in the position to refuse favors. "... Thanks." 

They walked into the lobby together, Steve's skin crawling with the oddity of feeling Robin standing with him and not just by him. He was grateful, but there was a voice in his head whispering that it would all end one day, and he would find her claws in his throat. 

He tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how Dustin barely spoke as Steve drove him home, only to nearly tackle him in a hug before he got out of the car. Tried not to think about how he couldn't pop in to say hi to Mrs. Henderson because she would think– she would know –that he was a monster. Tried not to think much at all, really. 

Steve found himself driving to the cabin on muscle memory alone, and didn't even notice the direction he was driving until the streetlights gave way to the shadowy cradle of the woods. He parked in the grass, climbed the steps stiffly, paused between every movement as Steve ruminated on the effort it took. 

Hopper didn't look up from the stove as Steve came in. It was chili night, a tradition built around one of the few dishes Hopper had achieved consistency in. Maybe that was why Steve had come here– Something in him knew he was expected here. People were waiting for him. He was wanted. 

Steve felt tears well in his eyes. 

"Steve?" Hopper clicked off the gas on the stove, turning. "Did… did work go okay?" 

The dam broke. Everything came pouring out, the tears, the half-explanations Robin had given him, the terrible truths he now was sure of. Everything poured out of Steve at once, until he was sitting on the couch, gasping for air. Hopper watched him through all of it, never saying a word. His face gave nothing away, and that only made it worse– Steve kept talking and talking, trying to find the words that would make Hopper feel something. Anything. 

Eventually, the terror took over his brain and he fell silent, but his throat still clenched around unformed words. 

"I've told you before, I'm not afraid of you, kid," Hopper said, slowly, but before Steve could protest, he continued, "but you have a right to be concerned about it, you know, in general. It might be you, it might not. But if there's some kind of Wesen vigilante, after everything that's happened in Hawkins in the past two years, one of them's bound to cause trouble sometime." 

"So we just– We gotta figure out how to take one down," Steve said, his hands shaking. 

"I figure shooting 'em will work just as well as it would on anyone else," Hopper said, dryly, "but I don't think you have to worry about that." 

"No, no, you can–" Steve flushed at the sudden sharpness on Hopper's face. "Look, if I'm actively hurting people, I'm too far gone, anyway. Have Nancy do it. She'll get a kick out of it." 

Hopper rolled his eyes, then sighed, rubbing at his face with one large hand. "And what if it's your parents, Steve?" 

That threw him. Because Steve had considered that his parents were the kind of Grimms Steve was terrified to become, yeah. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Steve had always been anxious around them, for no reason he could really put a name to. They weren't bad parents, exactly, just a little absent. They had never denied him anything, never hit him, never even really yelled. But Steve still flinched every time his father raised a hand to clasp him on the shoulder. Steve still shied away from his mother's gaze. 

Steve had always thought it had something to do with all the repression, the constant striving to live up to the Harrington name. That had been enough of an answer for him. Besides, the older he got, the less he had to deal with it, so what did it even matter? 

The idea that it might be something more sinister still hadn't prepared him for the concept of actually doing something about it, though. Sure, he had proposed the idea of them being dangerous to Dustin, but it wasn't like they were killing people and burying them behind the Hawkins Lab. 

"Do you think they already are?" Steve asked, face twisting. "There were genetic experiments on Wesen in the town they lived in. How did they not–" 

Hopper shrugged. "I don't know for sure, kid. Speaking as a cop, if their thought process is anything like mine, they probably don't pursue leads they consider out of their jurisdiction, and it wasn't like the lab was advertising. Will was the first Hawkins kid to go missing, remember?" 

"They were out of town when he disappeared," Steve said, relief evident. "They didn't get home until he was back." 

"I can't promise you anything, Steve, and you're probably gonna want to have it out with them yourself. But your parents have been in and out of Hawkins for two decades now, and it's not exactly like we've got stacks and stacks of cold case murders rotting away at the station. If they're causing problems, it's not here," Hopper said. 

Steve leaned back against the couch cushions, finally letting himself relax. "We just have to make sure they don't find out about El." 

"There you go," Hopper said, reaching out to slap Steve on the knee. It would have felt condescending from anyone else, but it was the most physical affection that Steve had ever seen Hopper give anyone besides Joyce and El. "Feel better with a task, right?" 

"Yeah, actually," Steve admitted. It did feel good, even though it was a small, vague goal that honestly Steve kinda hoped he never had to worry about. Still, having something clear in his head to strive for made him feel solid, grounded, and he felt like an actual person again for the first time all day. 

If Grimms were as bad as Robin made them out to be, then someone needed to protect Hawkins from them. Steve could be that person, if he needed to be, even if the threat was just his own reflection. 

[Next Chapter]

---

taglist: @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch

#my fic #only i must wander #grimm au #steddie #i hope its ok im tagging this steddie even tho eddie's not actually in it yet #he's going to be !! they'll kiss eventually and everything!! #rn it's #stobin #time tho :) #i just thought about how long its going to be until steve and eddie kissed and got dizzy see yall complete only ficcers next millennia #this au ate my brain i don't wanna talk about it #i'll try to have pt 3 out next sunday #no promises tho bc wayne shows up and i fucking love writing someone with my accent for once #THIS MAN IS NEVER GONNA SHUT UP #did i assign roles so that i could pretend my uncle is the one infodumping all the exposition and worldbuilding? maybe #i'm allowed

[munsonson]

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4

This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. 

Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt. 

In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him. 

She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so. 

Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson. 

She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.

He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car. 

“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”

She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute. 

It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed. 

It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.

It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips. 

She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley. 

But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted. 

She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand. 

“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”

Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard. 

“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?

“And?” Dustin coaxes.

“And what?”

“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were. 

Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears. 

God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that? 

He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.

She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down. 

Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense. 

The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.

“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”

“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter. 

“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”

“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”

“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”

“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”

“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home. 

“Am I boring?”

Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”

“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”

“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside. 

“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.” 

“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”

“No, Steve, I was just asking.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”

“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Munson.”

She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”

“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.

She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.

When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.

She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.

“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”

She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.

“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”

She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him. 

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?” 

“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”

“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.” 

“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.

“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”

“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”

She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”

“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away. 

“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”

“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”

“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.

Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.

Things would be just fine. 

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #jane hopper #eleven #max mayfield #jonathan byers #series

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt1 | Pt2 | this one is the last part!

After Steve has dropped Nancy off at her house – and Nancy has talked some courage into him – he drives to the uglier part of town, over Cornwallis and then into Forest Hills. He can only hope Eddie is home. If not, he'll try Jeff's house, and then Freak's or Gareth's. He had to promise Nancy he'll keep searching even if it has him ending up at Reefer Rick's boathouse again.

Luckily, no such search actions seem necessary when he gets to the trailer park: as soon as Steve opens his car door, he can hear loud music emerging from inside the Munsons' trailer. Even though it isn't exactly Eddie's usual taste, something tells Steve that Wayne definitely isn't the one who put this one on.

Should have known better than to cheat a friend And waste a chance that I've been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you

He knocks on the door, but is not surprised when no one inside seems to hear him, so he pushes it open to let himself in instead.

He finds Eddie sprawled out on the floor in front of the old boombox. His eyes are closed, but even from Steve's place in the doorway he can see how swollen and red the skin underneath them is. His hair is spread out around his head on the floor like a dark halo, and his fingers are restlessly tapping on his own arm to the melody of the saxophone solo.

Steve finds himself frozen in the doorway, captivated by simply watching Eddie lying there in his own bubble while the music slowly fades out. Despite the sadness radiating off him, there's something weirdly beautiful about it, and Steve can't look away, can't move, can't make a sound.

Then, Eddie suddenly sits up; his index finger is already stretched out towards the rewind button when Steve clears his throat to make his presence known. Eddie whips his head towards him with a startled sound.

'Jesus Christ, what the hell?!' he yells out. 'How long have you been standing there? No, you know what, don't answer that, just get the hell out!'

'Eddie, I-'

'I don't wanna hear any of it, man! I thought – no, I'm not talking to you. Fuck you.' Steve knows it's supposed to sound angry, but Eddie's voice starts wobbling dangerously towards the end of his sentence.

'Eddie, please just hear me out,' Steve says, stepping further into the trailer. The end of Careless whisper has left a deafening silence in its wake. He half expects Eddie to cover his ears and start singing loudly, but he's only met with a teary-eyed death stare and crossed arms.

'I'm not seeing any girl, Dustin got it all wrong,' he starts to explain. 'I wanted to tell him who I was really seeing, but I couldn't - not without your permission - so I told him I was seeing someone. Meaning you. I haven't been seeing anyone ever since that first time we kissed. I didn't need to. I've only been thinking about you.' He pauses. It's scary, to let himself be vulnerable like this while Eddie is still looking at him like he despises him. But he takes a deep breath and pushes himself to say it all.

'I don't want to see anyone, boy or girl, ever again, as long as I can have you, Eddie. I promise. I've been falling for months, but I didn't wanna scare you off with any labels you might not want for us – but you're it for me, Eddie, one hundred percent. I never meant to hurt you like this. It's all a big misunderstanding; there's no one else for me.'

Eddie is still sitting on the floor, looking up at Steve with wide, teary eyes. Something in his face has slowly shifted while Steve was talking; the harsh lines around his mouth have turned softer and the betrayal in his eyes has made way for something Steve can only hope to be good.

'You wanted to tell Dustin about us?' is all Eddie says, his voice croaky.

Steve takes another step towards Eddie, then crouches down to the ground until he's sitting right next to him on the worn carpet.

'I mean, I know I don't wanna hide what I'm feeling for you. Especially not when people are thinking I'm going out with some girl when all I want is to be with you.' He reaches out to grab Eddie's hands in his own. 'So yeah, I think I wanna tell Dustin. And everyone else, basically. That is, if we're on the same page about what we are.'

Eddie frees one of his hands from Steve's grip to wipe it over his eyes. His palm is wet when his hand finds Steve's again.

'What about boyfriends?' he says, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face.

Steve squeezes his hands, unable to stop a matching smile of his own appearing. To hear that word falling from Eddie's mouth... He had expected it to feel good, of course, but he had never anticipated it to feel like this: like the whole world suddenly makes sense again.

'Yeah, I can do boyfriends,' he answers, his voice breathy with the multitude of emotions bubbling up inside of him. 'That sounds – sounds good. Great. Perfect.'

Eddie surges forward to catch him in a kiss that's a bit wetter than Steve is used to. Steve happily kisses him back, though, and he can barely suppress a shiver when one of Eddie's hands makes its way upwards over Steve's back and into the hair in his neck. There's a softness to his touch that easily drives Steve crazy with relief.

When they pull back, both of them are smiling dumbly and breathing heavily.

'I'm sorry I had so little trust in you,' Eddie tells him.

'That's okay, I understand,' Steve is quick to answer. 'As long as you leave listening to George Michael to me again from now on.'

Eddie makes a face, causing a big frown to appear between his eyebrows, along with all kinds of wrinkles around his nose.

'God, I can't believe you witnessed that and still wanted to be my boyfriend,' he says, adding an exaggerated shudder for extra dramatics.

Steve clenches his arms tighter around Eddie. 'You won't scare me off that easily,' he murmurs. 'It was kind of adorable.'

'It was pathetic.'

'Yeah, a little bit. But in an adorable way.'

Eddie rolls his eyes. 'You're an idiot, Steve Harrington,' he says. 'But... In an adorable way.'

Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx @candlecatsblog @goodolefashionedloverboi @jojobeaner @pinkdaisies1998 @giverobinagfbrigade @therealscarletpumpernickel @darkwithcoferie @duraffinity @lyriclight @almondflavoredbookworm @kingelyx @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @m-owo-n @altermagic @sirsnacksalot @littlebookworm86 @platinum-sunset @chaosgremlinmunson @morganski-19 @cam-cat-writer @slime-hoe @bat-outta-hel @justsearchingformystory @notfromtwitter @ashwinmeird @marklee-blackmore @warlordess @breealtair @pansexualhousecat @louwilsonscreamingpapa @inikokoru (more tags in the replies bc tumblr is being a dick again)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #idiot4idiot #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[usedtobecooler]

Please bestie do me a favour and write the fic where reader gets cucked by Steve please I’m on my knees begging I love your work

smutty stocking stuffers day two - steddie x reader

Pairing | Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), protected anal sex, cuckholding, coming untouched, dacryphilia, dirty talk, mean reader, mean steve, fluff, banter.

Word Count | 2.1k

A/N | for anybody who’s confused, this prompt is based on this post by the ever wonderful @boldlyvoid 🤍

“At this point I honestly think you want to fuck Steve,” You say it to Eddie as a passing comment, really. It doesn’t come out snarky, just factual. You'd seen the way they were together, the lingering glances, how they always had to be touching each other, it was bordering on more-than-friends territory, and you'd be a fool to pretend you'd never noticed it.

Eddie had been non stop, talking about everything he and Steve got up to on their ‘boys trip’ to the city since he got back a few short hours earlier. Eddie’s voice dies in his throat at your words, brows furrowing and a pout overcoming him.

“You want to fuck Steve,” Its a weak response, but it’s all Eddie’s got, and it makes you cackle. He’s flustered, cheeks hot, twiddling his rings in his fingers the way he always does when he’s nervous.

“Maybe I wanna watch Steve fuck you,” You say it as a half joke, so if Eddie freaks out you can back up and say you were only kidding and he’ll somewhat believe you, but you’re looking at Eddie and he’s looking at you, and he’s not shooting you down or running away in disgust.

“You wanna get cucked by Steve Harrington?” Eddie bristles, and you laugh at how stupid it sounds, now that he’s saying it out loud. But a warmth pools in your belly at the thought, a flush takes over your face.

“I dunno, maybe I do.” You challenge, expecting Eddie to back down, but he looks at you all defiantly, crowding into your space, hands engulfing your hips. It’s a weird game of chicken, you think, and Steve is the unwilling pawn.

“Maybe you should call him then.” Eddie’s breath fans in your face and it makes you shiver, the faint smell of cigarettes and minty gum intoxicating. He leans in to kiss you, and you meet him halfway, getting wrapped up in the searing heat of it as he kicks your legs apart, slots one of his own in the space in between, and lets you grind against him until you're gasping and crying his name.

“Look at her, she looks real pretty sat there watching us, huh?” Steve’s attention goes to you, where you’re sat in his chair at the side of the bed, watching them with hooded eyes.

The pretty lacy underwear you put on had been worn at Steve’s request — “It’s only fair I get to see you both looking sweet for me, right?” He’d cooly said it down the phone, and it had you twirling the cord in your fingers with a blush spread across your cheeks. Steve had a sharp tongue, he knew how to fluster you.

He’s talking nonchalantly as if he’s not two fingers deep in Eddie’s ass, spreading him open and getting your boyfriend ready to take his cock. Steve is big, but you knew that anyway, Hawkins was a small town and everybody talked, you’d heard your fair share about Steve Harrington’s penis.

Eddie’s losing composure pretty quickly, fringe matted to his forehead and small little whimpers escaping his lips, noises going right to your cunt. He was always submissive, even for you, but this was something entirely different — watching him being fucked open by Steve’s long fingers with his knees almost up at his chest.

“You think you can handle me nice now, hmm?” Steve grins down at Eddie, and you see him flex his wrist, crooking slightly until Eddie’s gasping for breath, fisting the sheets below him. His hard cock kicks up against his belly, slapping and leaving slick behind on his happy trail.

Eddie nods, throwing an arm over his eyes to shield them as Steve slips his wet fingers out, making hasty work of grabbing for the condom and lube next to him on the bed, tearing the foil with his teeth.

You watch through half lidded eyes in awe, Steve’s as hard as Eddie is and he’s not even been touched. He slides the condom down his length with ease, like he’d done it a hundred times before (and the rest, you bristle quietly). He pops the cap on the lube, slicking himself with it, exhaling a shuddery moan when he deftly wraps his own hand around his cock, the little bit of relief obviously feeling blissful.

“What do you say, babygirl? Think he’s ready for me?” Steve asks without even looking at you, shuffling forward between Eddie’s spread legs, catching the head of his cock on Eddie’s hole and eliciting a hiss in return.

You speak without even thinking, like your mouth can’t catch up with your brain, “I think so, Stevie. Give him what he’s been begging for, I know he can take it.”

Steve grabs at Eddie’s arm with his free hand, tearing it away from his eyes, forcing his head to the side, making Eddie look at you when you’re talking to him. There’s a glint in Eddie’s eyes as they lock with yours, he’s clearly enjoying this as much as both you and Steve are.

You watch with mouth agape as the head of Steve’s cock catches on Eddie’s hole, and he sinks into him with minimal effort. Eddie gasps and moans, his tummy muscles tensing up as Steve stretches him out, cock dragging along every little part of his walls.

“See why girls love it so much?” Steve grunts, just sitting there, bottomed out in Eddie’s ass and watching him curiously, “Feels good, right? The full feeling?”

“Yeah, shit, feels really good,” Eddie’s voice is choked, gravelly and it’s sending you reeling. They’re so much hotter together than you imagined, all tangled up together and panting like dogs in heat. Your tummy coils up with need, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you.

They both share a silent look between each other before Steve pulls out, shoving back in as quick as he left, testing the waters. Eddie’s back arches up off the bed, into Steve’s chest and the larger man uses it to his advantage, hooking an arm under Eddie’s back and setting a brutal pace.

It’s dirty, watching them fucking like animals. Steve’s fast, hard, the snap of his hips deafening in the otherwise silent room, just their moaning and heaving breaths breaking it up. Your pussy aches, your nipples are hard, unable to rip your eyes off of them.

Eddie’s face is screwed up in bliss, plump pink lips agape as he moans, his cock left untouched and desperate between them. Steve smiles down at him, and Eddie barks out a little chuckle in return, their demeanour losing credibility for just a moment. They’re probably thinking this is insane, they’d probably be right too.

The pool of precum in the dip of Eddie's belly makes your cunt clench, it's like nothing you'd ever seen before, watching him become a whimpering, messy, begging little thing like this. It does something to your insides that you never expected, clouds your brain, consumes you.

"You really gotta peg him some time, babygirl," Steve groans, unable to tear his eyes away from where his cock is sinking in and out of Eddie's needy, puffy hole, "He fucking loves it, don't you? Only time you've ever shut your mouth your whole damn life, honey."

Honey. Eddie whimpers, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, and you can't believe Steve is doing this to him, making him cry and beg silently for his cock, and you love it.

"What's the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" You cock your head at Eddie and his eyes snap to meet yours, big brown orbs filled with wet tears, mouth open in a quiet moan, "You crying? Steve's cock's pretty big, huh?"

Your voice is sickly sweet, like saccharine, even though the condescending undertone is obvious. Eddie cries out, fingers digging into the meat of Steve's biceps and you let out a barking laugh, Steve joining in and you can tell Eddie's getting close with the way his cock leaks uncontrollably, the head turning purple, begging for release.

"Y'think we can make him come untouched, babygirl?" Steve asks, finally ripping his eyes away from Eddie to look at you. Your breath hitches in your throat, his composure is mind-blowing, the only sign that he's folding is the way his mouth hangs open with every harsh thrust into Eddie's ass.

"Hm, what do you think, baby?" Your eyes flit back to Eddie, and he's struggling, you can tell, the way his brows furrow together, nose scrunching up, "Think you can be a good boy and come for us? Come on Steve's thick cock?"

Eddie nods his head fervently, and Steve doubles down on his efforts, pinning Eddie by the throat with his large hand, squeezing down as he pounds into him, the slick, loud clapping echoing in the room and going right to your pussy. You know you're soaked through, probably leaving a damp patch on Steve's plush chair, but you can't find it in you to care.

“Kiss him, Stevie. He’s begging for it,” You can’t help the way the words keep tumbling out, your arousal getting the better of you as you watch them both. Steve throws a smirk in your direction, leaning forward and capturing Eddie’s lips in a searing kiss, forcing his tongue into the heat of his mouth until Eddie’s gripping at his hair.

It’s wild, watching them going at it like this. You take the bait, the noises and visuals getting the best of you and you pull your legs up, slipping a hand deftly into your underwear. The slickness from your folds soak your fingers quickly and you whine quietly, making sure you don’t distract them as you touch yourself, fingers sliding over your clit in slow circles.

"S-Steve, god, fuck," Eddie's voice is hoarse, the first he's spoken since Steve sunk into him in one swift motion, wet with choked off sobs as his cock kicks up one last time and he's coming, slicking his belly and chest with his load.

You sit there, mouth agape as you watch his cock twitch, blurting out the last little spurts as Steve's hips begin to stutter, in a telltale sign that he's close now, Eddie clamping down on him like a vice clearly enough to do it for him.

"Fuck, holy fuck," Steve's hand slides from Eddie's throat and instead meets Eddie's hip, grip so tight it's going to leave bruises. It's oddly endearing, the way Eddie is looking up at him with half lidded eyes, and Steve is looking back like they're the only people in the room, and you'd be lying if it didn't cause a pang in your chest, "You're so fucking tight, taking me so well, m'gonna -"

Steve doesn't even get the words out before he's coming, shoving into Eddie's ass to the hilt and moaning in his ear, filling the condom with his thick release. You shove any thoughts to the back of your head, ears ringing with Steve's noises, shooting straight to your core.

You might've known Steve wouldn't be chivalrous, with the way he throws himself down on top of Eddie like a fucking heathen, causing Eddie to grunt out a small 'oomf'.

It's like what just happened, never really happened at all, with the way they start play fighting like a pair of idiots as Steve's cock slips out of Eddie, shoving at each other and laughing.

"Get off me, you fucking brute of a man." Eddie huffs and puffs, until Steve is pulling himself back up onto his haunches, letting Eddie breathe. It should be weird, watching your boyfriend and his best friend like this, but it isn't - it's like this was how your dynamic was meant to be, in an odd way.

"I always knew you were a bottom," Steve chuckles, throwing a glance in your direction, and you meet his eyes with a wide smile, "Think it's time we gave your girl some attention, Munson. What do you think?"

You glance over at Eddie who's looking at you with worried eyes and a furrowed brow, almost like he forgot you were there and now he needs to make sure you're okay. You nod your head just once, barely a motion, but Eddie gets it, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, "C'mere, sweetheart. Let us take care of you."

And who were you to refuse these two men the opportunity of pleasuring you?

#steddie smut #steddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x you #smut #x reader #my fanfic #candy’s smutty stocking stuffers

[finntheehumaneater]

from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao

“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”

hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.

(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)

TW: throwing up

Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.

He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.

“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.

And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—

Meow!

Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”

The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.

“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.

Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.

Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.

Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he  could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.

Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.

Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)

And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.

He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.

"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”

Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"

Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.

“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"

Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair. 

“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.

She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.

Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer. 

Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.

He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.

Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.

"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”

Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter. 

She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.

"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe. 

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.

“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.

He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.

As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.

Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?” 

Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.

"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.

“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”

“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”

“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.

Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on. 

“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”

Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore. 

“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”

Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”

“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”

Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.

The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.

The poor thing lived a very hard life. 

“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.

“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”

Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.

Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”

“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”

Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”

Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.

He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.

“You’re early.”

Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”

“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”

“M’always nice.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.

Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck. 

Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning. 

There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything. 

“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“But how much?”

“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Debatable.”

Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.

“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.

Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.

(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369

#Like I had so so so much fun writing this #Poor Steve #I’m so serious though please let me ramble about this universe ask me questions I’m begging you #Let me procrastinate my history homework with my silly little guys #Please #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #steve x eddie #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #max mayfield #jeff stranger things #gareth stranger things #teacher!steve harrington #Writer! Eddie Munson #Finn writes #My writing #my fic

[undreaming-fanfiction]

My Blessing

Back when Eddie was still human, he used to think it would be incredibly cool to be a vampire. Child of the night, Nosferatu, all that stuff from his beloved books. He would be untouchable and the people who wanted to hurt him just for being different would wither away and die of old age while he'd still be the same. Maybe he'd visit them in their dying hour and sneer at them, taunt them as they were about to see what awaits beyond. All of that used to sound so good.

As he's learned during last 80-ish years, being a vampire sucks (no pun intended).

He sees it all. World wars. AIDS epidemic. Satanic panic. More and more pain, people wasting away before his eyes. The music is cool, but he wonders if he'll grow tired of it all. Eddie is still young, he doesn't want to believe that this is all there is. But each year, each decade makes him more and more hopeless.

And he's so, so lonely. He still has Wayne, his vampire uncle (he categorically denies the term "father" or "maker"), but he sometimes too resigned, too used to all the pain and violence. He doesn't know many other vampires and making any sort of a connection with a human is painful to think about. People are so fragile.

He's always loved turning into a bat and just flying around the city, avoiding the curious eyes of humans and finding lone vantage points, observing the night life on the streets. One of his favorite spots is on top of the Harrington bank, a building from the 1920s with old bronze statues and old, tall windows. He started visiting the ledge in late 1980s, sometimes spending the entire night there. He'd land on the ledge and turn back to his real form, plopping down next to a statue of a young man. It's so human-like, Eddie forgets it's just an object, a piece of art, and talks to it. He tells it about the stuff that has been happening in the world, all that's fucked up but also the good things, how he saw a group of girls chasing away a stalker of a random lady, a homeless guy giving his last few bites to a stray dog. How a kid he used to know in the 80s is now all grown up and has children of his own. He sometimes wonders who made the statue, but there is no signature, no mark, just that pretty face looking down at the street, lost in thought.

It's on a stormy night in 2022 that it happens. Eddie lands in his favorite spot, lights up a cigarette (immortal lungs are a great thing to have) and talks to the statue, as always. Tells it how he actually wrote a novel and got it published, summers are long and the daylight doesn't kill him but it sure hurts, rambles about how he got Wayne his first flannel shirt and it was love at the first sight. The rain is thick, heavy, but Eddie likes it, it makes him feel a bit more alive. He hears thunder, closer and closer, but the lightning is probably somewhere behind him, he doesn't see it.

That is, until it hits the statue, and Eddie panics because sure, it was just an object, but it was like his friend, it was a constant in his life, what is he going to do-

And then the statue straightens its spine and groans.

Eddie's cigarette falls somewhere into the streets and burns a hole in the umbrella of a lady bitching about the undeserved help provided to the poor. Not that he notices. His eyes are glued to the statue that stretches its arms and runs its fingers through the thick hair that suddenly has color, a sun-kissed brown, and then it turns to Eddie and smiles.

"Oh finally, I was waiting for ages to introduce myself. Hi. Thanks for keeping me company all those years. I'm Steve. Steve Harrington."

Eddie shakes the offered hand in daze and mutters "Eddie, Eddie Munson" before promptly turning into a bat and...what? Does he want to run away? Does he want to shriek his little heart out and never come back? Probably not. Not with Steve smiling at him like he's the best thing in the whole world. So he just lands on Steve's outstretched hand and squeaks "Still Eddie Munson, only pocket size."

And Steve, bless his heart - does he have one? Do statues have hearts? - just laughs and tucks Eddie under his old-fashioned jacket to protect him from the rain. "Oh, I know. The first time you landed here and turned back, I thought I'd finally gone crazy."

He opens a window behind them and climbs inside with Eddie, a window that's always been dark, the only dark room in the whole building. And then they talk. Well, Steve does.

That's when Eddie learns the room is Steve's, preserved, stocked and cleaned throughout the decades. That he's the only son of the founder of the bank, Richard Harrington, now fortunately long dead and burning in hell. That even before the Great Depression hit, the bank was facing difficulties and Richard Harrington decided to make a deal with...something. Something ancient and lurking in New York, something feeding off the misery of people living there.

That's when Eddie learns that Richard Harrington offered his only son to preserve his fortune.

He just stares as Steve shrugs, retelling his story as if it was no big deal, finding a change of clothes for both of them in a huge closet full of things both old and new, a strange blend of fashion spanning last century. "It was a deal for one hundred years. One hundred years of prosperity for one hundred years of...that. I guess my father felt a little bit guilty afterwards because he included in his will that I'd always have a place to come back to. This room. And some financial security too, that's what he'd said before he passed away. He used to talk to me through that window sometimes, after my mother drank herself to death."

"Uhhh." Edward Munson, ever the eloquent fantasy book author, has nothing better to say.

He turns back to Eddie, smiling at him and offering a black t-shirt. "I don't think he knew I could hear him, that I heard and saw everything. Still, nice to know he cared...as much as he was humanly able to." The smile doesn't falter as he adds: "I don't want to sound pushy, but maybe you should turn back to change clothes? You're still wet."

And oh, Eddie is still a bat. Yep. With a sound that sounds like a plop, he transforms back and takes the t-shirt. "Thank you. Steve. Uh. That's  fucked up, man," he offers lamely.

"Oh yeah, it sucked. Well, used to," he nudges Eddie, tossing him a towel when he sees his hair dripping on the floor. "But then you started showing up. Talking to me." Now his smile is slightly smaller, sad, and Eddie wants to visit Richard Harrington's grave and punch his remains, build them into a bird feeder, revive the asshole and kill him again. "It was just...so lonely. I had no way of telling you, but when you started visiting and just, kept showing up, almost every day, it felt like a blessing."

Eddie swallows, his throat suddenly dry. "A blessing?"

"Yeah." Steve turns to him and the sincerity in his eyes is so intense Eddie feels like turning into a bat again and flying in circles, shrieking into the night. "You were my blessing, Eddie," he says as he squeezes his hand.

And Eddie just stares, his undead heart breaking for this boy, cursed just as horribly if not worse than he is. "You know I'm not...not human, right?" he whispers but his hand doesn't leave Steve's. "I guess you can probably tell from the bat thing, or that I'm literally the room temperature-"

"-or the fact that you once told me that it's a shame I'm not alive because I look delicious and you're sure my blood would be too," add Steve with a mischievous smirk.

"Uh. Shit, yeah. That too," Eddie stutters, trying to recall all the embarrassing stuff he told Steve during the last thirty or so years. "That...doesn't bother you?"

Steve snorts in laughter and shakes his head. "You literally thought I was a piece of bronze an hour ago, man. Does that bother you? Did you prefer me when I didn't talk?"

Eddie scoffs at that, offended. "Hell no. You were just a pretty face, but now you're a pretty face with a ton of personality. I...you know, you were my blessing too, I think. Even if you couldn't answer, I didn't feel as much alone next to you. Is that weird to say?" 

The squeeze of Steve's fingers gives him the answer he needs, but he still melts inside when he hears "not at all. I just hope you won't get bored of me now that I'm...different," he whispers, staring at their joined fingers. "You'll probably find me boring. I don't know much about what's going on outside. I could watch and you told me a lot, but...uh. The world seems so hectic and fast-paced, it will probably take me a while to catch up."

And Eddie has to laugh because that worry is so strange to hear voiced out loud, as if Steve being alive, breathing and next to him, as if that made him something less. "Oh just you wait, Steve. You spent over thirty years listening to me ramble, now I'm expecting at least thirty years of your monologues so we can be even. You know my dirtiest secrets now and I'm a man with a thirst for knowledge. Really," he adds because the young man next to him is still silent, "you have nothing to worry about. I've kept you company and you have done the same for me...and it works for us. So what's a little confusion about these modern days? Come on pretty boy. I will be your guide."

Steve gives him a smile that is so radiant Eddie thinks it should hurt, it should burn him like a torch, but it's just warm. Kind. "I can work with that."

Steve is the only human Eddie ever turns. He expects to agonize over it for much longer, to feel guilty, but Steve has already lived longer than he has and he still has thirst for life that is infectious, something that drives Eddie to join him, try new things, not mourn what is lost to time but be thankful that he has the chance to see it all. He finally wants to participate, to join the world again, not just observe it.

The first time Steve turns to a bat, he ends up flying in circles in absolute ecstasy, laughing and making the weirdest somersaults and loops. Eddie could watch him forever and the best part is - he can. And he does.

But before all that, Eddie brings Steve to see Wayne, to introduce him to his only family. Wayne shakes his hand and gruffly laughs: "Well, look at that. My boy has finally moved on from that statue."

Without missing a beat, Steve smiles at him and announces "oh not at all, sir. I'm the statue."

Eddie has some explaining to do, but for now, he just laughs.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #vampire AU #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things ficlet

[poppy-metal]

okay poppy but what about calling eddie 'daddy' teasingly for the first time? do you think he'd be just as flustered as steve and like look away and laugh nervously or would he be evil about it and hold your face and lock eyes with you and make you say it fr

hes a menace about it. almost makes you regret even saying it with how much he teases you, brows raised and wiggling. "ohhh? I'm your daddy now? do i get to give you a curfew? do my corny jokes make you wet, babygirl?" and you're immediately shoving him off you from where he'd been making lewd kissy sounds and roll your eyes.

"forget it!" it'd been stupid anyway. but the moment you stand up you're tipping back down from where he hooks his ringed fingers at the collar of your shirt and promptly yanks you back to his bed.

"oh no you dont."

the momentum makes you fall all the way back until you're laying flat and eddie ceases the opportunity to slip over you, hands braced on either side of your head.

his eyes still hold that teasing glint, but they're more heated now. a little serious. you feel yourself flush even as you press your palms to his chest and push weakly, "release me." you try and make the situation a joke again, feeling silly. "unhand me at once."

his lips twitch but he leans forward, his hair making a dark curtain around the two of you as it falls over his lithe shoulders in inky waves. his necklace almost hits your nose with how it sways over you. you smell his minty breath from when he'd just brushed his teeth. the humor leeches out of you. your fingers curl in his faded metallica tank.

"mm" he says, like hes considering you. "no, i dont think i will." he looks down your body, at the way your legs had naturally splayed to make space for him. "daddy likes you right where you are."

even though the word sends a flash of heat through you, you roll your eyes. "you're stupid. it was a joke anyway, eddie-"

"am i laughing?"

his tone is so serious. oh no. its that tone. the deep one. you swallow hard and he looks at you like hes waiting for an answer and suddenly you're feeling very very small under him. you shake your head in answer, because well, he isn't.

"dont think it was a joke at all, sweetheart." he says conversationly. he leans up so hes on his knees above you. he doesn’t have to ask you to stay where you are, you just do. he trails one of his hands down your breastbone, to your tummy, slipping under your top. "think you've wanted to call me daddy for a long time now. everytime i had my mouth on your pussy, everytime i made you cum so hard you cried, everytime i called you baby, you thought about it, huh?"

he pinches your hip when you're silent.

you squeeze your eyes shut, hating how well he knows you but loving it at the same time. your cunt is practically weeping at this point. pulsing and hungry between your legs. "y-yes." you confess, because hes right, the fucker. its not your fault hes amazing at taking care of you.

"aw," he coos. "that's real sweet." he pats you now. "turn over."

you blink up at him, confused and lust drunk. he just grins, his two pointy teeth reminding you of a vampire.

"you didn't think i was gonna let you get away with keeping this all from me, did you? what happened to open, honest communication? come on. over."

you pout, wanting to roll your eyes but its like eddie senses the desire before it even happens because hes reaching over to grip your chin, leaning over you, his nose brushing yours. you think hes going in for a kiss, lean into him to accept it but he just says. "i wouldn't give me attitude, princess. you're gonna roll over on your tummy, raise your tight little ass in the air and you're gonna count each spank daddy gives you. okay?"

your mouth is dry. your pussy isn't. "okay."

a quirked brow.

"okay, daddy."

#ask #eddie spaghetti #tw: daddy kink #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader

[queerofthedagger]

you can leave (don't go far)

[Steddie; no warnings; ao3]

---

At the one-month mark of dating Steve, Eddie starts a list.

To the One Who Loves Him Next:

— 1. If you hurt him, I will find you and make you regret the day you were born this side of the dimension. Yes, this is a threat; no, you don’t need to understand it beyond: be good to him.

It isn’t a serious, sentimental reason that makes him start writing, is merely something born out of a little too much whiskey, band practice, and contemplation of Steve’s—everything, really.

It grows, though. For reasons that Eddie is aware of but tries not to think too much about, he does not tear the page out of his notebook the next morning, doesn’t cross out the words or burn them in the kitchen sink.

So this is how it starts; a threat of bodily harm because Eddie does not think he could bear ever seeing Steve hurt again. A message to a stranger because Eddie does not entirely trust himself to be the one who will make Steve happy for the rest of their days, no matter how badly he wants to.

---

— 2. He will always love Robin more than you (although in a different way). Accept this; it is a good thing.

The summer of ‘86 is dwindling, fall stretching its spindly fingers across the golden Indiana fields, and if anyone were to ask Eddie, he would say that things between him and Steve are good. Great, even, better than he had dared to hope for, back in summer when he had kissed Steve for the first time, half-certain that whatever Vecna and his bats had failed to accomplish, Steve would finish any second now.

He hadn’t; instead, he had kissed Eddie back as if it was the first breath of fresh air in years, and somehow, Eddie had been allowed to keep him. They don’t go shouting it from the rooftops, but their friends know. Wayne knows. The people who matter know, are happy for them if, perhaps, sometimes a little exasperated with their utter inability to keep their hands to themselves.

So when Robin appears on Eddie’s doorstep on one early September evening, the sky a riot of pink and orange behind her, he isn’t remotely prepared for anything but a friendly visit.

“I need to talk to you,” she says, and waits just about long enough for Eddie to sit down at the rickety kitchen table before she adds, “It’s about Steve. About both of you.”

“Did something happen, is he alright? I thought—“

“He’s fine,” Robin cuts in, an apology flashing in her sharp eyes before it’s all unyielding resolution again. “It’s getting serious between you two, right?”

Even with the reassurance, the dread settles in Eddie’s stomach, his fingers fiddling with his rings.

It is, though, the initial infatuation giving way to something solid. Something a little terrifying, if Eddie is honest, but worth it. So, so worth it.

“Yes,” he says, holds her eyes, still not sure what the purpose of this is. As much as he likes her, he doesn’t have whatever freaky intrinsic understanding she and Steve share. He’s fine with this, most days, but right now it feels like she knows something he does not, and he has never handled that feeling particularly well, so— “I don’t see how that is any of your business, though.”

He knows it’s a stupid thing to say the moment he does, not that it is of any use by then.

She smiles, somehow both mirthless and understanding. “Look, Eddie, I like you. You know that I like you, right?”

She actually waits until he offers her a jerky nod in response. He kind of wants to crawl out of his skin.

Finally sitting down across from him, she leans her elbows on the table; he has the distinct impression of being an insect pinned to a board.

“See, Steve is… He is serious about this, has been from the start. And while I wasn’t around when the entire thing with Nancy blew up, I still picked up a great many of the pieces. It’s taken some considerable time and effort, and as much as I love Steve, as much as I am willing to pick up his pieces, over and over, until the end of our days, I would prefer if he didn’t have to shatter in the first place.”

It isn’t exactly what Eddie expected, but now that the words lie on the table between them, he isn’t actually surprised.

He smiles, can’t help it. “Are you giving me a shovel talk, Buckley?”

Her posture doesn’t change, and neither does her expression. “Yes. I like you, as does everyone else, but I’m not above bribing El into making you disappear, no matter what baby Wheeler or Dusty-bun have to say about it. If you’re not serious about this, now is the time to get out with your pretty face intact. Last chance.”

Eddie thinks of the start of a list, still at the back of his notebook. Thinks of Steve’s tired eyes and the walls he builds, and how Eddie has been taking them down slowly, carefully, brick by brick. How Steve lets him. Thinks of how Steve touches him, fingertips dancing across skin with a gentleness that Eddie still isn’t sure he deserves, and how even among lingering suspicion and Hawkins’ cage and the suffocating need to get out, every single day with Steve is like finding true north.

He thinks of his fear and his uncertainty, of how a part of him still expects Steve to wake up one day and finally realize that Eddie isn’t worth all this, that he still wants the Winnebago and the six kids and the sticky-sweet picket-fence-life more than he wants Eddie’s chaos and Eddie’s music and all of Eddie’s stupid, annoying idiosyncrasies.

Thinks of fear and jumping and outrunning the past, of the fierce protectiveness in his heart that is also shining back at him from Robin’s eyes.

He smiles. “I can’t promise to never hurt him, Buckley, we both know that. But if I ever do it on purpose, you have full permission to get El to snap my neck and dump me in the quarry.”

He means it, too, is the thing. She keeps looking at him, the old kitchen clock ticking in the background, steady. Eventually, she gives him a sharp nod before her features soften back into familiarity.

“Good,” she says, and she’s already getting back up again while rummaging through the pockets of her jacket. “Here, you’ll need these even if Steve is too proud or stubborn or—well. You know.”

Moments later, he is alone again, with a list crammed onto a single sheet of paper in Robin’s looping hand. It is a careful, organized collection of: what triggers Steve’s migraines. What helps against Steve’s migraines. What helps after nightmares. Random things to avoid due to assorted trauma. What to do when he ties himself up in knots over the kids or his parents or any of the things he worries about too much.

It goes on, is, Eddie realizes, a complete run-down of every little piece of knowledge Robin has on how to take care of Steve.

Eddie has no doubt that she herself does not need it written down, that she has accumulated all these little pieces of information naturally because she is the one person that Steve has no hope of fooling.

Whatever misplaced strands of prickling jealousy had still been tangled around Eddie’s heart finally dissolve. He takes the list and adds it to the page in his notebook that has another one already started; just in case Robin ever has to make good on her promise.

---

— 3. He is the most self-sacrificing person you will ever meet, but he is also still a bitch at heart; don’t take it personally (in fact, sometimes it’s fun to encourage him, but don’t tell anyone).

See, the thing is, Eddie has never been particularly great at following instructions—probably would have had fewer troubles finishing school if rules came easily to him.

So when Steve goes down with a bad migraine, Eddie does not, in fact, do as Robin’s list tells him and leaves him alone.

Yes, sure, at this point, he can gracefully take his second place, can easily admit that she would know best, especially after those post-Starcourt days where migraines had been a far more regular occurrence, but—

But. Failure to deal with instructions aside, it also simply feels wrong; to heed the signs, stock up the kitchen, and leave Steve to his silent suffering.

So he pushes. He knows he shouldn’t but he does, asks, “Are you sure you’re alright, I can move the DnD session—“

He should know better even without Robin’s list, really, but then, Eddie has never claimed to be a smart man. Especially not when it comes to Steve.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Just a long shift and—“

“Oh come on, that’s bullshit,” Eddie snaps, stepping closer. He freezes when Steve steps back.

“It’s not bullshit, I’m fine. I don’t need you to hang around here whining that you missed nerd night—“

“—that’s not—“

“Not to mention that it’s not as if there is anything you could do. Last I checked, you had neither superpowers nor sudden mind-reading skills, so how about you let me decide whether I’m fine or not? I’m not one of your made-up damsels in distress, you do know that, right?”

Eddie watches as regret washes across Steve’s face instantly, but it only marginally lessens the sting of it. He grits his teeth and grabs his jacket from the kitchen chair.

“Fine, deal with it on your own then.”

“Fine,” Steve bites back; pain always makes him more bitchy, not that he lacks the skill on the best of days.

Eddie isn’t pissed enough to slam the door when he leaves, but it’s a close thing.

---

The little anger Eddie could muster up has drained away once he drops the kids back home that night. He is itching to check on Steve, to apologize, to convince him to let Eddie take care of him, damn his stubborn pride, but he doesn’t.

It takes almost two days until there is a knock on the door of the trailer, Steve looking washed-out and tired and, most of all, sheepish.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped—“

Eddie pulls him inside, kisses him lightly as soon as the door is closed. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “I should have known better.”

Steve’s brows furrow, even as he keeps leaning into Eddie, as if the mere prospect of stepping out of his space physically pains him. “You couldn’t have known that I turn into an asshole who snaps at his boyfriend when he wants to take care of me.”

Shrugging, Eddie kisses him again, stays close, nose brushing along Steve’s. “Call it an inkling; now come on, you can make it up to me by listening to the retelling of the absolute disaster that the session was.”

There is a moment where Steve keeps looking at him, eyes dark and serious and fingers digging a little more firmly into Eddie’s sides—as if he isn’t entirely sure that it can be this easy.

In the end, though, he nods, smiles a little. Follows Eddie into his room, already asking all the right questions, and Eddie vows right then and there that it will always, always be exactly that easy.

---

— 4. His parents are absent more often than not and his father is a bastard, but he will still miss his mother on her birthday. Don't try to distract him; if he trusts you with this, simply be grateful (muffins help; so does whiskey).

It isn’t on Robin’s list, so when early February rolls around and Eddie wakes to an empty bed, he doesn’t think anything of it, at first. Later, when he finds Steve staring into space in the kitchen, when the smile once Steve notices him is brittle around the edges, when Steve’s coffee goes cold and the house stays silent and the space between them seems to twist and grow, he thinks it’s another migraine.

He runs a careful hand down Steve’s arm, presses his mouth to his temple. “Want me to leave?”

Steve frowns, turning to look at Eddie. He seems as if he is about to say something but clothes his mouth again, fingers tangling in the front pocket of Eddie’s hoodie. “No, I just—stay?”

Perhaps the most devastating part of it is that he sounds uncertain about it, the hesitation in his voice settling like pins and needles beneath Eddie’s skin.

He steps closer, watches Steve’s face for the dismissal that never comes, and loosely wraps his arms around him. “Of course,” he finally says, exhaling carefully when Steve’s forehead comes to rest against his collarbone.

It’s a gamble, to ask, but Eddie’s always been willing to risk too much when it came to Steve. “Want to talk about it?”

For a long time, Steve doesn’t answer, long enough that Eddie accepts that he won’t actually get one.

The light shifts in the kitchen, the February days still short and tentative. Eventually, Steve huffs, though, as if he is annoyed with himself. “It’s my mom’s birthday. She’s… Back when I was a kid, we used to spend the day baking and watching stupid movies and—I mean we haven’t done this in ages, it’s not like it matters but—“

“Of course, it matters,” Eddie says, with more vehemence than he means to. “Sorry but—if it matters to you, it matters. There’s no use in beating yourself up over it.”

Steve grimaces, toying with the loose threads on Eddie’s hoodie. “Yes well, I’d like it to not matter, though.”

Humming, Eddie looks through the dimly lit kitchen, this quiet sanctuary that isn’t really theirs, at the end of the day. “Let’s override it, then.”

“Literally what are you—“

“We’re going to bake something. Or well, you tell me what to do and do most of the work while I look pretty and snack on the dough. We’ll make something simple, and then we’ll watch a bunch of stupid movies you can pick and—“

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. I want to, though. If you do, anyway—we can do something else if you’d like. Anything but go hiking, that is, you’re not getting me to—“

He’s cut off when Steve kisses him, hard enough that Eddie staggers a little with the force of it.

It’s good, though; they make muffins that Eddie drowns in frosting and sprinkles, watch enough Monty Python to make Eddie’s brain leak out of his ears, and fall asleep on the couch once the sugar high fades, afternoon melting into evening.

If Eddie opens Robin’s list back up the next day to make sure he doesn’t forget to make a tradition out of it, if it ends up on two lists because for all the love threatening to crack his ribcage open, Eddie still does not trust himself regardless, not fully, not enough, well—

Then that is no one’s business but his own, is it?

---

— 5. Always, always put him first; he deserves someone to do that, for once. I am too selfish to give him up and too selfish to not ask for more than everything, so if I do have to let him go one day, you'll better make it worth it.

“Are you really sure about this?”

It is the umpteenth time that Eddie asks this, and Steve merely rolls his eyes. Leans over the open door of the Beemer to kiss him once, still not bothering to answer.

It’s sweet, the way it all has been sweet; the pipe dreams of getting out of Hawkins, the even bigger pipe dreams of large cities and small gigs for the band. Eddie’s future has always been one big pipe dream, and then came Steve Harrington, determined to spin them into something real and solid.

Because of course, he does; he is the most self-sacrificing person Eddie knows, and no matter how often he asks—what about you, your six kids and the Winnebago and all those sugary dreams that should be far more attainable than whatever Eddie dares to hope for—Steve always smiles. Always kisses him, easy, and says that it’s fine. That he’s happy wherever Eddie and Robin go, and isn’t it lucky, how they seem to agree, for once in their lives, that San Francisco is a good choice.

Perhaps the worst thing, Eddie thinks as he drops into the car stuffed with what little they own, is that he believes him, too.

He presses his fingers to the warm skin of Steve’s neck when they drive past Hawkins’ exit sign for the final time, and he prays and prays and prays that one day, he can make it up to him.

---

The plan was never for Steve to come across the list, at any point.

More than once, Eddie had been this close to throwing it away, to scoffing at himself and his sentimentality, his fear, the way he sometimes still looks at Steve, sun-kissed and happy, and cannot believe that he is allowed to keep this. That he won’t fuck this up.

He never does, though, always stares at the points, the few there are, and thinks that if one day he does have to let Steve go, he wants—

Well, it’s complicated. No one will ever see that list, least of all whoever Steve will love that isn’t Eddie.

Eddie will know that it exists, though, that he wrote it and what it says. He’ll remember the time that he wished Steve happiness even if it wasn’t with him. He cannot allow himself to forget this, even if—if—despite his trying and holding on and all this overwhelming, aching, solid love, the most important thing in his life does implode, one day. 

Which is, of course, why Steve has to find the list eventually. He has a knack for it, Eddie likes to joke, to always get into the places he should stay far away from, find the things he is not supposed to see, without any fault of his own.

It’s particularly stupid because it’s Eddie who throws him the notebook, meaning to show him some notes for a campaign for when the kids visit.

In his defense, he does have a lot of notebooks. He really should have thought of it anyway, though.

He doesn’t notice that anything is off for at least five minutes either, still thumbing through the Monster Manual and keeping up a steady stream of commentary.

It’s only when Steve fails to laugh at one of those really dumb jokes that he never fails to laugh at that Eddie finally looks up.

There is nothing particularly obvious about the sight; Steve sitting on their couch, brows furrowed, random black notebook lying on the coffee table in front of him. Somehow, Eddie knows, though.

He has the dumbest urge to snatch the notebook away. To claim that it isn’t like that, tear out the page and burn it in the ashtray, pretend it never existed in the first place.

Instead, he keeps very, very still. It is the first time in a long time that he has no idea how Steve is going to react to something, isn’t sure at all whether he will get a stupid joke and teasing for being a sap, or hurt for thinking that they won’t last, or—

He doesn’t know, is the thing, and it makes him itch with the urge to do something. Anything.

In the end, though, Steve merely closes the notebook carefully and looks up. His expression is soft, a little exasperated, and anything Eddie might have wanted to say tangles and sticks and stays in his throat.

“You’re an idiot,” Steve says, voice quiet. He gets up and walks over to where Eddie is sitting at their desk, wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“But you love me?” Eddie can’t help but ask, leaning his head back until he can look at Steve, upside down and still obnoxiously pretty.

Steve huffs, and presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s mouth, his nose, his forehead. “But I love you and, for what it’s worth, you’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie says, and he thinks all the love and the warmth and the tenderness must show on his face because Steve kisses him again, again and again until Eddie’s neck hurts and his lips are bruised.

Which, really, if he had known that this was the reaction he’d get, he would have shoved the list at Steve ages ago.

---

Eddie thinks that is the end of it, the gentle teasing Steve levels at him about his attempt to be threatening notwithstanding.

He isn’t even sure when Steve does it, but one day Eddie opens the godforsaken notebook again and finds a loose scrap of paper tucked between his and Robin’s list.

To the One Who Loves Him Next (Steve ’s Version):

Learn to love his music and the campaigns he writes; you don’t have to become either metalhead or nerd, but if you do not love his enthusiasm, I know someone with a wicked aim.

He gets nightmares, and he will not tell you what they are about. Even if you knew why he had them, it wouldn’t change anything; just be there, make sure there is always a small light on somewhere, and if all else fails, reading from the Lord of the Rings helps.

He is a package deal; even if I have to lose him, he has a family that loves and needs him, and neither you nor I will be the reason that he has to go without them. We also share joint custody of a bunch of really annoying kids; be nice to them or see the point about someone with a mean aim.

Defend him; he will pretend that the vitriol doesn't get to him, but he deserves better, anyway.

If you hurt him—run. I'm probably just waiting for an excuse to try and win a fight against you.

“I think if we asked Robin about it, she would tell us that threatening bodily harm to possible future partners falls into the more concerning areas of codependency,” Steve says from the doorway. “But to be honest, I really don’t care; I think it’s sweet of us, actually.”

Eddie laughs, the sound a little wet. He skims the list again, then a third and a fourth time, before carefully setting it back into the notebook, and the notebook aside.

“Come here?” he asks, watching as Steve walks over to where Eddie is still sitting on the sofa, his heart like a war drum inside his chest.

He pulls Steve down to him as soon as he can reach him, and pours all the things he wants to say but doesn’t have the words for into the following kiss.

“For what it’s worth,” he says when they break apart, just far enough to lean their foreheads together, “I think it’s very sweet, too. Very poetic of us, even.”

Steve laughs, the low sound wrapping around Eddie’s bones. “Right? There's a very simple way to avoid that, after all.”

Eddie smiles, presses the curve of it against Steve’s jaw, and breathes him in. “Is there, now?”

“I simply have to make sure you’re not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere.”

If anyone were to ask Eddie, that is an absolutely perfect solution; he bites his agreement into Steve’s soft mouth, makes a vow out of it, and marvels at the way Steve answers as if he understands it, too.

He’s simply not going to let go; after all, Eddie is exceptionally good at holding on.

#st #stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #mona's writing

[munsoncoffin]

PRINCESS—

kinktober day one | collaring

steve was just like a fucking puppy. buying a collar for him was just a must.

submissive steve harrington and dominant eddie munson

word count: 1.8k

warnings: SMUT | collaring, blowjobs, messy, messy blowjobs, face-fucking, minor feminization (eddie calls steve princess and puppy), dom/sub dynamic (steve calls eddie master and sir, daddy kink is briefly mentioned), male masturbation, slight pet play (eddie also calls him puppy)

if you prefer to read on archive of our own, follows this link!

it all started out as a joke.

“oh, don’t give me that look, harrington,” he smirked when steve frowned, “you look like a damn puppy.”

“thank you, sweetheart,” he chuckled when steve handed him his lighter, “you’re such a good boy.”

“wait up, man!” he huffed when steve jogged ahead of him, “do i got’ta put a damn leash on you?”

a joke. so, why then, is steve standing in the pet store, staring at an array of dog collars?

“what about this one?” eddie asked as he plucked a black one from its hanger. it was leather, had a gold buckle. steve had to admit it would look amazing against his olive skin, but it still wasn’t the one.

he shook his head. “i told you, man,” steve’s eyes flickered from the collar dangling between eddie’s fingers, ones calloused and adorning chipped black polish, to his eyes, “leather’s not my thing.”

eddie chuckled, “the man wants to be collared, but draws the line at leather.” steve rolled his eyes as eddie placed the collar back on the hook.

“i dun’no, eds, maybe,” he paused, taking interest in the floor, on his shoes, rather than the shelf of various collars, “maybe this was stupid.”

“stupid?” steve didn’t need to look up from his feet to know eddie was frowning, “your curiosity isn’t stupid, stevie. exploring your sexual desires isn’t stupid. what’s stupid is how much they’re chargin’ for a damn dog collar. twelve dollars?! you’re lucky you’re cute, harrington.”

“shut up, munson.”

-

steve moaned. delicate, airy as eddie kissed along his jaw. those calloused fingers traveled down the span of steve’s back, further and further, until they were full of soft, plushy, jean-clad ass. steve’s shirt was already long discarded on the floor of eddie’s bedroom. in its rightful place, eddie thought.

as supple, pink lips trailed down his neck, steve tilted his head back with another moan. he sat in eddie’s lap, straddling it as his nails bluntly dug into the other man’s shoulders. eddie gasped sharply against olive skin.

“eddie,” steve sighed as those lips found his chest, “please, i wan’na…” he trailed off, words turning into little moans as eddie nipped just below his collarbone.

“use your words, sweetheart,” eddie whispered against his skin. warm, breathy. steve wanted to simply just melt beneath eddie’s lips.

steve lifted his head back up, hazel eyes meeting brown. eddie was so pretty that it was almost unfair. staring up at steve with wide eyes as his big teeth grazed along his skin, along his most sensitive places. how was steve supposed to speak, let alone think?

“‘m ready,” the two little words tumbled from steve’s lips. eddie knew what he meant, just what steve was ready for, but those words wouldn’t be enough, would they? and steve knew better.

he wanted to cry when eddie pulled away from his skin. because eddie didn’t plan on collecting that little brown shopping bag on his dresser. no, not yet. he was going to make steve say it.

“c’mon, puppy,” and that earned a whine from steve’s throat, “be a good boy for me. what are you ready for?”

steve whined. he could cry right now. he really, truthfully could. “the collar, fuck. ‘m,” he pauses, throwing his head back again in defeat, “i’m ready for the stupid collar. eddie, please.”

“see?” eddie hummed, “that’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” steve pouted as he got off of eddie’s lap.

eddie plucked the collar from the bag. pink. nylon. pretty. that was the one steve decided on. with a silver buckle and a little tag that said ‘princess’ on it. it’s cheesy, yes, but hearing eddie mutter the name under his breath made steve’s knees weak. so, princess it was!

the pink accessory dangled from ring adorned fingers, taunting to glossy hazels. steve whined again. just like a puppy whining for a treat.

and truly, steve was just like a puppy, wasn’t he? if he had a tail, it’d be wagging. sat at the edge of eddie’s bed now, hazel eyes wide and cheeks flushed a soft pink. just to match his collar. how cute.

“oh, princess,” eddie teased as he unclasped the buckle, “we should get ‘property of eddie munson’ engraved on the back of this thing, huh?” when steve responded with just a roll of his eyes, eddie weaved his fingers in the brunette locks on the back of steve’s head and tugged. “when i ask a question, you answer. that’s what good boys do,” his words had little bite, and he delivered them with a playful smirk, but steve still obeyed.

“yes!” he groaned as eddie gave another harsh tug to his hair, “yes, we should, master.”

master. that was new, and fitting for tonight. eddie cooed, “say that again, princess?” he let go of steve’s hair.

eddie’s fingers then skillfully wrapped the collar around steve’s throat. he fastened the buckle, but not too tight. he checked with two fingers and tugged just to ensure steve could breathe. steve felt like he might just explode. “master,” he repeated.

“at’ta boy,” eddie muttered as those two fingers rested lightly upon steve’s chin, pushing until steve turned his head. eddie was admiring the collar, how pretty it looked against the sea of olive tones and moles.

steve missed the heat radiating off of eddie fingertips the second they dropped from his face. he nearly whined once more, but eddie was discarding his shirt onto the floor, in a pile with his own, and he couldn’t possibly complain about that, now could he?

next, went eddie’s belt. there’s a connection a more sober steve would’ve made between the clasp around his neck and the one around eddie’s waist. there was no room in his pretty little head for that then, though. not as eddie’s pants join the pile of clothes on the floor.

steve, still adorned in his own pants, sighed as eddie stepped closer, as he weaved his fingers through his hair once again. this time, though, much more gentle.

“wan’na,” steve started, unprompted. eddie would have to reward him for that later, “wan’na suck your cock.”

eddie chuckled. “so eager to please me, aren’t you, princess?” he asked, and steve nodded, loose brunette waves falling into his eyes, “take those pants off and i’ll give you anything your pretty heart desires, puppy.”

with eddie’s help, steve’s pants were on the floor in seconds, forgotten with their various other articles of clothing. those infamous fingers then found the waistband of steve’s white briefs, pulling them off until they were around his ankles. steve proceeded to kick them off, onto the floor with the rest. his cock bounced onto his tummy from there.

eddie had a hole in his heart in the shape of steve’s cock. matching the paler skin of his hips, steve’s cock stood tall with taut balls that were kissed by thick, black pubes. pink at the tip, and gooey there, too. leaking precum into the sea of hair that adorned his tummy. if steve hadn’t explicitly asked for eddie’s cock down his throat, he’d have had steve’s down his.

“oh, you’re trying to kill me tonight, aren’t you, baby?” he asked as steve leant back on his elbows, giving eddie the biggest, the wettest, the prettiest set of puppy dog eyes.

“i will if you don’t get those stupid boxers off soon, munson,” steve bit back, and that just wouldn’t fly, would it?

“it’s not munson,” eddie warned, “or eddie, or sweetheart, or baby. it’s master tonight, remember, princess?” he pushed at the waistband of his blue, plaid boxers. “i’ll also except sir,” he added as his cock spring free from his underwear, “or daddy.”

steve’s mouth watered, “yes, sir.”

“good boy,” he whispered as he rounded the foot of the bed, fingers dragging along cotton sheets, “lay down on your back for me, yeah?”

steve didn’t need to be asked twice. he obeyed, falling onto his back with his head dangling off of the edge. eddie soon met up with him, leaking cockhead just a mere breath away from steve’s pink lips.

eddie’s cock was beautiful. where he lacked in girth, he made up for inches. pale like the rest of his body, standing tall from a bush of thick pubes, wild and not as well maintained as steve’s. he tapped the wet tip against pouty lips, “open up, princess.”

steve’s lips parted just enough for eddie to slide right in. a struggled groan died in his throat as his lover pushed into it, slow, easy. right until his balls brushed against steve’s nose.

“fuck,” eddie moaned above steve as he swallowed around him. he pulled out until just the tip resided between those lips. in a desperate move to keep him from pulling completely out, to keep him from teasing, steve licked his leaky slit. eddie groaned.

he slid back in, one hand finding the edge of the bed while the other took interest in the pink nylon tied around steve’s neck. “tap my thigh twice if you need me to stop, sweetheart,” he said as his fingers dipped beneath the collar and held it. steve simply whimpered in response.

his grasp tightened around the collar as his hips increased in vigor. fast, a little sloppy. drool and precum alike split past steve’s lips as he attempted to swallow it all down. it was pointless. it would soon reach his cheeks and, ultimately, his hair. not that he truly carried, though. he couldn’t when eddie was balls deep within his throat.

“oh my god,” eddie moaned as he let go of the bed. his spare hand joined his other, both wrapped around the sturdy nylon collar. “touch yourself, princess,” he groaned, commanded, “cum with me, puppy, fuck.”

steve wrapped a large hand around his cock, the other finding eddie’s thigh. he didn’t tap, however. no, he simply dug his nails into the pale, plush flesh whilst he stroked his cock eagerly and in time with eddie’s hips.

the room was so warm. humid. smelt of sex and weed and cigarettes and steve. so overwhelmingly of steve. eddie came at that thought, spilling hot streamers of white down steve’s throat. whatever he didn’t swallow split past his lips, decorating his cheeks in eddie’s climax and subsequent drool.

as eddie pulled out, and steve gasped, he came all over his tummy, his hand. his throat ached as he panted, catching his breath with a crooked, fucked out smile. eddie looked down at with admiration, gently stroking his slopped cheek with his thumb.

“think we should invest in a leash,” his voice was raw, utterly fucked out as he spoke up a few moments later, “just somethin’ to think about for next time, hm?”

eddie laughed, “next time?”

steve’s smile grew wider somehow. “yes,” he licked his lips, cleaning of eddie’s residual cum, “master.”

#steddie #joseph quinn #steddie smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things smut #kinktober #joe keery

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

So sorry for the horny thoughts no I'm not but

There's just something about Steve having you sit in front of him, legs over his. Him spreading his thick thighs and forcing your legs apart. Having you spread out in front of a mirror. Him showing you how to "treat my girl". When he circles your clit being all "oh she loves this. Look at how wet she is for me" and "so pretty". Just lazily playing with your pussy as he kisses your neck. Showing you how to be nice and slow and build everything up.

You can imagine Eddie too but I think he'd be a lil meaner its more like a punishment and humiliation thing. "Look at how greedy she is" "look at how she's crying for me huh baby" and "clenching around nothing poor thing not sure you deserve my cock"

OMG THIS IS SO HOT THO

but imagine him making you touch yourself in front of the mirror too, because he wants you to see how you touch yourself. he wants you to see it how he sees it. if you stop, he grabs your hand and forces you to keep going. if you whine that you want him to do it instead, he stops your hand until you’re begging him to let you go.

and, of course, he’s gonna fuck you in front of it when you’re done and he can’t take it anymore. he would bend you over, making you face the mirror as he pounds you. i think it would bring out his rough side; he’s usually gentle with you. he would slap your ass, pull your hair, choke you, the works. but his aftercare would be AMAZING.

and you’re right about eddie! his would definitely be more of a punishment. hw would draw it out for as long as possible too, there would be no giving in or nothing easy when it comes to him!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb

[sky-neverending]

Eddie rockstar au featuring past fwb Steddie who are reuniting to be more?? and an original song I wrote?? Slay! (lemme know if you want me to do a part 2 or post this to ao3?) under the cut cause its a LONG BOI

Eddie grew up drowning out the noise. He was used to covering his ears, to turning up the music. So the screams and shouts of others had grown cold on him, never really affecting the way he lived.

But this? This was a whole different story.

He peeked his head out from behind the curtain, glancing at the crowd that had gathered in front of the stage. The crowd that was there to see him. It was odd, the fact that so many people wanted to be there for him, wanted to hear him make music he used to use as a distraction in his home, and after the fight, in the dingy bedroom of Wayne’s trailer. 

Someone grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the crowd before they could spot him. “What do you think you're doing?” a girl hissed, and he turned around to grin at her. 

“Checking out my adoring fans, Chris,” he joked, running a hand through his curls. “Gotta see if anyone stands out to me, ya know?”

She rolled her eyes at him, but a fond smile crossed her lips. “You go on in 2,” she warned, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Good luck out there.”

“I won’t need it,” he responded with a wink. 

As Chrissy walked away, Eddie’s heart started beating louder. Adrenaline and pure anxiety mixed in his veins, a feeling stronger than one he had ever been given by any substance. 

It was show time. The crowd wanted a rockstar? He was going to give them one. 

Stepping onto the stage, Eddie let the roars of the people before him soak in. He threw his head back, taking a long, deep breath before addressing the crowd.

“Are you ready to rock, freaks?” 

The show went on as normal, Eddie playing and singing and basking in the reactions of the crowd. It wasn’t until he got to his final song that he spotted a familiar face in the front row.

“Alright, alright,” he began, putting a finger to his lips. “Everyone hush now.” Taking a deep breath, he looked straight at the first man he was ever in love with. Straight at his high school hookup that could have been something more. Straight at Steve Harrington himself. “This last song is dedicated to someone I knew once. I hope he knows it’s about him.” 

And then he started to sing.

Denim, denim jeans

Polo with a band T hidden underneath 

All the girls wrapped around his finger

But i’m standing just where he can’t see

Midnight kisses and early morning drives 

To the lake down the street where he can hide

Cause you know he’ll never be 

Brave enough to see

That he’s dying simply because he’s living

A lie

He took a breath before launching into the chorus, fingers shaky on his guitar.

Do you care

That I’m not there 

Or was I never on your mind in the first place 

Do you see me?

I’m screaming, screaming 

I’m reaching, reaching out

But you turn away

So what else can I say?

Farah Faucett hair spray 

And a smile that could kill

I think it already did 

But at least I’ll die on this hill

Sayin’ there’s no point in loving if

You can’t love yourself

So walk away, trophy boy

Let them put you on your shelf

Do you care

That I’m not there 

Or was I never on your mind in the first place 

Do you see me?

I’m screaming, screaming 

I’m reaching, reaching out

But you turn away

So what else can I say?

Yeah what else can I say?

The song ended on a solo guitar riff, Eddie pouring his heart and soul into every note. He opened his eyes on the last strum, looking right at Steve and winking. 

“Thank you guys for coming out tonight,” he said, addressing the crowd as a whole. “I can’t put it into words how happy I am to be here. Goodnight, Indy!” And with that he threw up his horns, swung his guitar once around his body, and strutted off the stage like he hadn’t just indirectly confessed his feelings to someone he never thought he’d see again. 

His heart thumping in his chest, Eddie turned to Chrissy with the little hope and prayer he had left in him. “Front row,” he said, “Harrington. Looks the same as he did in school, sticks out like a sore thumb. Bring him back here.” Chrissy raised an eyebrow, but upon seeing his desperation, turned and walked toward the side exit of the stage. It led out to the gates that separated Eddie from the crowd, and he could hear the clatter of them opening as she hurried Steve through before letting the security guards handle whoever else clamored after them.

Curtains fluttering with movement, Eddie held his breath. He watched as Steve stepped through, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. 

“Harrington,” said Eddie, almost a whisper. “I’ll be damned.”

Steve smiled, and fuck if that smile didn’t buckle Eddie’s knees. “Hey, Munson,” he greeted, hands at his sides. “Nice show.”

Laughing, Eddie stepped closer. “Didn’t take you as part of this crowd,” he stated, looking Steve up and down. The faded yellow of his jumper was probably the preppiest thing in the audience, amongst the blacks and rips and chains that his usual fans sported. “You get a girlfriend who’s into our kind of music? Or did you just decide to show up and look like an outcast?” His words were teasing, and he hoped Steve could see that.

“Uh,” Steve pressed his lips together, looking at the ground. “No, Robin dragged me down here. Said it would be good for me to get out of my comfort zone… and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Eddie repeated with a grin. “Not going to lie to you, Stevie, I didn’t think you and the band geek would last.” He tried not to let jealousy seep through his tone. 

With the kick of his foot, Steve’s shoulders loosened. “She’s not the band geek I’m after, trust me.” He looked Eddie directly in the eye. “I messed up, Eds.”

Eddie stared at him. “What?”

“I messed up, Eddie Munson,” Steve repeated with intent, “and I want to make things right.” He advanced, tilting his chin up just the slightest bit. “I shouldn’t have hidden from you. I shouldn’t have turned you away, and I’m sorry. And that song-” he paused, biting his bottom lip, “God, Eddie, you have some real talent.”

“It took a song about you for you to realize that?” Eddie joked, and Steve rolled his eyes in response. He sighed, reaching a hand up to Eddie’s cheek. The touch was tender, sweet, all the things Eddie had dreamed of when they’d been apart.

“Shut up,” he said. “Shut up and let me take you out on a date.”

Heart lurching, Eddie’s face broke into a grin so wide it was painful. “What’s in it for me, Harrington?” he asked slowly, leaning into the touch. “I’m a rockstar now, why should I go out with you?”

“Because I asked nicely?” Steve whispered, curling his hand and letting the tip of his nails trail down Eddie’s cheek. “And because I want to make things right?”

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes. “Ever the romantic, sweetheart.” His tongue pressed up against his cheek, like he was contemplating the question. He wasn’t. “Sure, I’ll go out with you. Meet me behind the venue in half an hour?”

Steve nodded. “I can do that,” he said. “I need to go talk to Robin, I owe her money.” With that, he pulled away, leaving Eddie longing for his touch again. “I’ll see you later,” he called out, walking with Chrissy toward an exit that would lead him past the crowd. 

Eddie watched him leave, a smile on his face.

He had himself a date, and all it took was one little song.

#sky writes #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #rockstar!eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie oneshot #should i do a part 2? #might post on ao3 idk #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #platonic stobin

[batty4steddie]

@spicycinnabun and I expanded the friends prompt. Hope you enjoy the angsty fluff from us ❤️️

My Buddy, My Bro, My Pal The party had been going on for about an hour or so. Steve was hosting. He didn’t know when Eddie had arrived but could hear his voice, and then he saw him chatting with Jonathan and Nancy. Steve shot him a smile from across the room. He was so happy Eddie was there. It’d been a long work week, and they hadn’t seen each other since last weekend. He couldn’t wait until they got a moment to greet each other. Chrissy and Robin were there, too, so Eddie had plenty of people to talk to while Steve was making the rounds.

Steve was just catching up with some of his friends who had gone off to college. Everyone was back home visiting their own families during the school break. It’d been a perfect time for a party with his parents out of town. 

When Steve finally broke away from the conversation, it was to refill some of the snacks and drinks. He ran into Eddie in the kitchen. “Hey, man. Happy you made it.” Steve went in for a half hug and gave Eddie’s back a few hard pats as he pulled back and smiled at him. “How’s my good buddy doing? Did you get a drink?”

There it was again. The word Eddie so loathed. Buddy. 

Eddie thought that shit was going to stop once they’d started fooling around together, but if anything, it had only increased. Buddy this, bro that. Once, Steve had even called him pal.

Eddie should have grinned. He should have played along like he usually did. But he was four vodka Cokes in, and his feelings were more feelingy, weeks of pent-up frustration hitting its peak. 

So, he did something monumentally bold and got into Steve’s space, putting his (fifth) drink down and backing him up against one of the counters. “You know what? Buddies don’t kiss each other,” Eddie said, breathing the word harshly between them. His fists clenched at his sides. “Yeah, you… You’ve definitely had a few.” Steve could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was worried they were standing too close to the gas stove. Eddie saw Steve’s eyes widen, his head twitching like he was just barely concealing the urge to look around and make sure nobody had heard that. Eddie barrelled on. It was a courtesy that he was even lowering his voice. He didn’t have to. “If you want to keep on pretending that’s all we are, you go right ahead, Steve. But I won’t be.”

Steve’s heart sped up like it normally did when Eddie got close to him. His eyebrows rose as the counter dug into his ass. This would’ve been really fucking hot if Eddie wasn’t so angry at him. He was surprised that Eddie had that reaction to his comment. He thought it was an innocent enough statement, but clearly, he had struck the wrong chord. 

Steve’s eyes were doing all the reacting, looking at Eddie but dying to see if anyone had overheard. If they had, it probably wouldn’t have made sense to them anyway. No one knew he’d seduced Eddie into more than just kissing him. Friends didn’t kiss or fuck each other like wild rabbits, either.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not pretending. I didn’t know that you wanted this to be an official thing. I thought you wanted to keep things casual,” he said coolly, even though his heart was beating out of his chest. “I’m open to something more exclusive if that’s what you want.” 

They hadn’t talked about what they were, but if Eddie was gonna call him out so aggressively and publicly at his own damn party, he was going to get Eddie to admit that he wanted to be his boyfriend. What he had been doing was bullying him about being friendly and excited to see him. Wasn’t this a mutual decision they needed to come to before feelings got involved? It was too damn late for that, apparently, with Eddie’s alcohol-induced liberty.   

Eddie was short-circuiting. Thrown completely off. “Excuse me, what?” 

Heat rose to Eddie’s face with the speed of a Nascar driver, leaving a burning trail up his cheeks. He had been… like, one hundred percent sure Steve was deeply in the closet, and that was why he kept insisting they were friends and not, you know, fuck buddies. More than dudes who spent time together. Steve didn’t call any of the chicks he slept with what he called Eddie, right?

“I—I never said we have to be official,” Eddie finally said. His face was blisteringly hot at this point. Had Steve actually said he was open to it? To him? To dating Eddie? Fuck. “I just thought…” Eddie swallowed (fuuuuuck), “…you wanted to hide me under the rug like some bro. So I was pissed about that.”

Did Eddie want to go steady with Steve? 

Hell yes!

He had been infatuated with the hairy bastard long before they’d started sleeping together.

“I would be amenable to. Um. To being exclusive. With you. Yes.” God, he was usually way smoother than this. His fists finally uncurled. He looked at Steve uncertainly. “Do… you want to?” 

Steve had said he was open, but what did that mean? Open wasn't really yes.

“I invited you here.” Steve wanted to end the night alone with Eddie. 

They’d spent the last few weekends in his bedroom, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. (Steve didn’t even know he had that many moles and that there really was one there. He’d laughed like a hooligan, and it felt like he was gonna break his neck trying to find it in the mirror. Eddie had helped him find it eventually.)

Steve hadn’t been exclusive with anyone since he’d gotten with Nancy, but the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie made his stomach hurt. 

“And we hadn’t talked about it yet,” Steve pointed out. He wasn’t lying. He was open to it because he’d been thinking about it. He saw the way Eddie’s demeanor changed from hurt to hopeful. “I brought it up, didn’t I? Yes, Eddie, that’s what I want. I promise not to refer to you as my friend, without boy in front of friend ever again.”  

Steve wanted to prove it. It was his party, and he could kiss who he wanted to. While Eddie had been so concerned about being a secret hookup, Steve was only concerned about what would make them both happy. He knew kissing each other did, so to hell with what everyone at the party thought about Steve “The Hair” Harrington kissing Eddie “The Freak” Munson. They could get the fuck out and leave them the hell alone if they didn’t like it. 

Steve smiled and kissed his boyfriend for the first time. Eddie, still stunned but quickly getting with the program, clutched Steve’s hips and kissed him back.

In the background, they heard Robin and Chrissy cheering. “Nancy, you owe us twenty bucks!” Robin yelled.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #ficlet #friends to lovers #steve harrington #eddie muson #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #stranger things #light angst #fluff

[mixsethaddams]

Eddie/Hotdude Official Megathread!

(This is based on this post I made a while ago, shoutout to @bunk12bear for suggesting the format!)

(I know the formatting is a bit weird because of how tumblr is posting it, but it’s much clearer/cleaner over here on ao3!  But generally I think it works better on desktop than mobile...)

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

r/corrodedcoffincirclejerk

Eddie/Hotdude Official Megathread!

TheNumberOneBanished 8hr ago

Ok everyone, this is the official megathread to discuss this post from Eddie. Mods have decided it’s been too crazy in here and it needs to be compressed. 

If you missed it, although I don’t see HOW at this point, Eddie and a man (who was named by fans in the 90s as Hotdude Inthebackground) have apparently been engaged since 1989 and were among the first same sex couples to get married in Indiana this morning. Hotdude has previously been assumed to be part of their security but *shrug* looks like we were wrong. We’ve been overwhelmed with posts on the subject so keep it in this ONE PLACE please from now on. 

Bots and mods will be on patrol to mute/ban where necessary. Don’t be fucking rude. 

r/CCCJ Bot 8hr ago

Beep Boop. Don’t downvote mean comments, but do upvote anything you agree with! 

I’m a bot and my actions will be performed automatically. Contact the moderators if you think I’ve made a mistake!

EddiesGirl 8hr ago

Are we sure it’s not a joke?

---mrboombastic 8hr ago

    Yes baby we’re sure

    ---EddiesGirl 8hr ago

        How though?

        ---mrboombastic 7hr ago

         They’ve never joked about anything like this, sex and sexuality

          is probably the one thing they’ve always been super serious

          about. Guess this is why.

---user37397564397569 8hr ago

    U mad?

     ---EddiesGirl 7hr ago

         Just not sure I believe it

throwawayfuckeddie 7hr ago

burning all my cc shit right now man. don’t need a fucking fag on my car stereo. fuck eddie. 

---Mycoffinisfineactually 7hr ago

     They still have your money, dude. But sure, go ahead and destroy

      all your shit.

     ---throwawayfuckeddie 7hr ago

         fuck you too. 

(comment deleted)

---frogger75 8hr ago

    You kiss your mother with that mouth?

---lokisbabe 8hr ago

    What the fuck?

---allthegoodnamesweretaken 7hr ago

    That’s…an interesting threat? I think?

---(comment deleted)

     ---freakmeup 6hr ago

          Digging your own grave here. Just stop. 

         ---(comment deleted)

 ---seven8nine 5hr ago

     No way you could fit your entire truck up there

---(comment deleted)

    ---(comment deleted)

pussyfromaboywithcatears 7hr ago

Do we even know Hotdude’s real name? I mean I doubt Eddie’s going to be Mr. Inthebackground from now on?

---bornindenial 7hr ago

    I don’t think so? Someone on twitter said Eddie used the name

    ‘Steve’ literally one time when they were at a signing and Hotdude was the

    one who came to the table. No proof though.

    ---pussyfromaboywithcatears 7hr ago

     Strange thing to wait until NOW to mention. Also, Steve?

      Generic af. My money’s on that being a lie and ‘Steve’ was the first name

       they thought of.

---babygotfront 7hr ago

    Eddie’s got the name ‘Dustin’ tatted on his leg? 

    ---pussyfromaboywithcatears 6hr ago

      Along with about eight or nine others, so unless we’re also

       thinking Hotdude’s name is also either Jane or Erica, I don’t think

       that makes sense.

---lokisbabe 6hr ago

    Twitter right now is saying Steve and this tracks for me. Eddie’s got

    that big S tattoo on his ring finger.

   ---frogger75 6hr ago

       Did he not saying that stood for ‘sucking dick’?

       ---EddiesGirl 6hr ago

           When did he say that? Like is he even really gay?

           ---Mycoffinisfineactually 6hr ago

               sweetie he’s been out a long time, its time to move on

       ---indianaguy 5hr ago

       I knew eddie in highschool and that is absolutely something

         he’d get a tattoo of.

          ---mrboombastic 5hr ago

           My guy. Check your fucking yearbook rn to see if Hotdude in

            there.

           ---sevendogsinatrenchcoat 5hr ago

              No way to verify, Eddie never graduated, ergo no yearbook.

              Got his GED in 98.

               ---mrboombastic 5hr ago

                  We get yearbooks every year but yeah you’re right, too

                  hard to verify

        ---freakmeup 5hr ago

           Ignore this guy, he’s always on all the conspiracy boards

           claiming wild shit about. Russian invasions and monsters.

           Says the earthquake that gave Eddie that scar on his face was

           an evil wizard. The band themselves have renounced him as a

           fan.

            ---indianaguy 4hr ago

                Fuck you you fucking sheep

                ---freakmeup 3hr ago

                      Baaaaaa

CallMeByYourMothersName 5hr ago

holy fuck HOLY FUCK everyone needs to watch this video right now. Eddie blowing a kiss to the side of the stage at MSG and if you turn up the brightness HOTDUDE IS THERE AND HE CATCHES IT

---ninebrassmonkeys 5hr ago

   Oh shit that’s cute

   ---ninebrassmonkeys01 4hr ago

      I have a bone to pick with you 

---burningmanwasboring 5hr ago

    Oh shit that’s cute, indeed

Chesticles03 5hr ago

Does this mean Lollipop is about Hotdude’s dick?

---pissbaby75 5hr ago

   …yes I believe it does

---showmeyourfeet 5hr ago

    lol you’re right it probably does

---drumbitch98 5hr ago

    There’s a video of Hotdude wearing a Lollipop shirt at a meet and

    greet! Eddie told the person recording that it was a merch sample

    that never got made!

    ---pissbaby75 5hr ago

      I’ve seen this video omg wait let me find it I’m sure it’s on

       youtube

pissbaby75 4hr ago

HERE is the video of Hotdude in the scrapped Lollipop merch and I swear at 1:23 he SAYS HIS NAME. Headphones on full volume. This was from 2002. Whoa.

---CaptionBot

    Here are the captions for this video! 

    “Hi guys thanks for coming”

    “I’m so excited to meet you, your music saved my life”

    “Awesome to hear that man, glad you’re still around. Is this the

     shirt you brought to get signed?”

    “Yes please. I think all the Lollipop merch get sold out already but

      this one is  awesome too”

     “I’ll pass it on to Will our designer, thank you. There was only

     samples made for 

     Lollipop stuff *laughing sounds* They said looked too much like a

     dick to sell. (Steve?) back there has the only actual one. Here you

      go, enjoy the show tonight!”

     “Did you call me?” 

     “Oh my god Hotdude! Hi!”

     “Uh, hey?”

---Chesticles03 4hr ago

   STEVE!!!!!!!!!! He definitely does say Steve!

---interestingreaction 4hr ago

   The tattoo of the S on his hand. It all makes sense now.

   ---jackskullboy 4hr ago

     As much fun as the story he tells about it being about his love for

     sucking dick is, I agree that this is a better fit

CorrodedCorpse 4hr ago

Hotdude has an E tattoo! Repeat! Hotdude has an E tattoo! This video of him in shorts lifting an amp into a van is grainy because hey, cellphones in the mid 00s, right? But the tat on his left leg has a very definite E shape. Props to tumblr for spotting this one.  

---punchanazi 4hr ago

    How is it that we’re literally only clocking this now?

    ---CorrodedCorpse 4hr ago

        He’s also topless. We were not focusing on anything but

        Hotdude without a shirt

        on.

        ---punchanazi 3hr ago

           Valid. 

EddiesGirl 3hr ago

There’s been nothing posted online since. I still don’t think this is for real if he hasn’t posted a follow up.

---coffinfucker 3hr ago

    How does that logic work?

    ---EddiesGirl 3hr ago

      Well wouldn’t you be posting your wedding day for everyone to

       see?

        ---coffinfucker 3hr ago

           He kept it secret since the 80’s and you think now is when

           that’ll change? We were lucky to even get this. There was more

           info about Beyonce’s first trimester on Blue Ivy than there was about

           this relationship until literally 10 hours ago.

            ---EddiesGirl 2hr ago

               I just think he owes us more of an explanation. We’re the ones

               paying his bills.

---Mycoffinisfineactually 3hr ago

    I think you should log off

    ---EddiesGirl 3hr ago

        Why? Because I want to know why he’s lied to us for so long

         he’s not the person I thought he was if he’s been lying about

         being in a relationship for so long.

        ---Mycoffinisfineactually 3hr ago

            *facepalm*

             ---EddiesGirl 2hr ago

                If you’re ok with supporting someone who has the capacity

                for such a huge lie then fine. Some of us are on discord

                writing an open letter about it.

                ---Mycoffinisfinactually 1hr ago

                    oh my god of course you are

allaboutthatbass 3hr ago

Is this Hotdude in this video? In the yellow? Is someone calling him Harry?

Edit: sorry, new to this. LINK

---showmeyourfeet 3hr ago

   You forgot the link, champ

   ---allaboutthatbass 3hr ago

       Sorry, fixed it.

---ozzyozzy 3hr ago

   That’s Hotdude! It doesn’t sound like Harry though. More like ‘Here,

   Tony’. Is his name Tony?

   ---CallMeByYourMothersName 3hr ago

      No we’ve figured out it’s Steve, but you’re right that there’s two

      parts to whatever he’s being called. Surname maybe?

---thedoctordonna 3hr ago

    He looks great in yellow

    ---pissbaby75 3hr ago

        He looks fuckin great in yellow

        ---milestellme 3hr ago

            Definitely his colour

            ---daisiesonyournightstand 2hr ago

                More Hotdude in yellow content please

                ---27 more replies

---CoffinUpMyHeart 2hr ago

     If you slow the video down it sounds like they’re saying Harrington.

     Could that be it?

    ---coochieluver 2hr ago

        Steve Harrington is such a Midwest name jesus christ

    ---bodysnatcher 2hr ago

        I hear it too. Sounds like Harrington for sure

EddiesGirl 2hr ago

If anyone wants to add their name to the letter of why we as fans feel betrayed by not hearing about this before now, I’ll leave the link here.

---mrboombastic 2hr ago

    Are you still here?

---Mycoffinisfineactually 2hr ago

    This is so funny

---showmeyourfeet 2hr ago

    What the fuck is this?

---TheNumberOneBanished 2hr ago

    There are easier ways to ask me to ban you

---pussyfromaboywithcatears 2hr ago

    Careful throwing that ‘we’ word around

tusconarizona 1hr ago

It’s kind of hard to see for sure because it’s a screenshot of an old Top Of The Pops performance, but this looks like Eddie holding Hotdude’s hand when they leave the stage?

---BeamMeUpThotty 1hr ago

   Hard to tell! Could be just Hotdude putting his hand out to help

   him step down off the stage?

TimCurryingMyFavour 1hr ago

Was he ever just a security guard?

---ironmanCW 1hr ago

    Now there’s a question.

    ---TimCurryingMyFavour 1 hr ago

         Like how did they even meet?

mopthefloor 38 minutes ago

I wonder if Eddie knows how big a deal this is? 

---callousedanus 35 minutes ago

    That he’s married?

    ---mopthefloor 27 minutes ago

      Well yeah but like, that he’s officially gay now too. NME has been

       saying for years that he’s been joking about it. This is huge for their queer

       fanbase

        ---throwawayfuckeddie 20 minutes ago

            fuck their queer fanbase

            ---mopthefloor 17 minutes ago

                Don’t threaten me with a good time

        ---callousedanus 25 minutes ago

          They’ve been pretty clear about never joking about that kind of

           thing (I think it was discussed further up the thread?) so NME

           haven’t been paying close enough attention. I get what you

            mean though, very validating, especially in this scene.

SpaceDogsInMyBrain 26 minutes ago

Hasn’t Eddie said that he lurks this subreddit? I wonder if he’ll see this?

---eddiem 20 minutes ago

    Yep!

TheNumberOneBanished just now

Ok! So we’re locking this thread now because we’ve come very close to accidentally doxxing Hotdude! We’ve been given a super rare insight into Eddie’s personal life and we’re going to stay respectful of it.

Also, Eddie has posted another picture on Instagram, you can see it here.

tl;dr for anyone too lazy to click, it’s a picture of them holding hands backstage at a show, it’s pretty cute. Caption confirms that Hotdude’s name is in fact Steve, they met through friends in 1986, and that CC will be scheduling their long awaited farewell tour dates once they’re back from honeymoon. 

It’s been a pretty wild day for us in the fanbase, but if it’s one thing we can all take away from this, it’s that Hotdude looks great in yellow.

Thread Locked By Moderators.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////

People who said they might be interested:

(Also if anyone was planning on writing this for real then please do and please still tag me! I'd love to see it)

@shainsaw22 @duckyreads @maya-custodios-dionach @impeachy @daydreamerblues @0o-queendean-o0 @softgaygothboy @butterisgod @theoncelee @toasted-ghosty @genderisaliesowhyshouldihaveone @furbywithaknife420

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve stranger things #steve and eddie #eddie x steve #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #corroded coffin #famous eddie munson #media fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things modern #modern au #modern fic #stranger things ficlet #seth writes

[resident-gay-bitch]

Jay's Steddie Fic Recs :)

because i have so many, I needed to make a fresh post of them :)

some of these fics are found on tumblr, some on ao3, maybe some on wattpad? all of them are spectacular. i’ll tag the creators tumblrs if i know them :)

happy reading! <3

Steves First Bruise spiderman!steve x roommate!eddie - eddie has a crush on his roommate steve, who also happens to get into a lot of fights. he also ends up with a crush on spider man. how long will it take for him to figure it out he’s only crushing on one person? please its so adorable

Till I Kissed You steve x eddie - super angsty. eddie doesnt get the big deal about kissing, steve calls him a bad kisser, they kiss to test it out. oh god, now theyre both questioning everything. perfection.

The Boys Of Summer eddie x steve & wayne - for all you wayne lovers out there. steve dreams that eddies alive, he’s so sure that his dreams are real, he tries to break into the upsidedown by himself to get the boy he loved back. wayne tags along for the ride. please, this is so good it has me dying i love it so much.

Not Exactly Nappa Valley eddie x steve - ultimate fake dating scenerio. steve has a family wedding to attend and he wants to piss off his parents, so he brings eddie and they gay it up and… oh my god, plot twist, who wouldda thought they both harboured feelings for eachother?

Needles steve x eddie - eddie gives steve a stick and poke and he kinda gets hard because hes a sadist. steve gives eddie a stick and poke and eddie almost busts in his pants. its pretty funny and has some fabulous smut.

If Your Heart Surrenders steve x eddie - super angst. dates back pre s4 and is very soft and angsty and i loveee it. i binge read the shit out of it. it has a very sweet ending. an alternate version can also be found here on tumblr. @asbealthgn

Recipe For Disaster steve x eddie - princess diaries au?! excuse me, hello. this is everything to me. it is pure perfection. please give this a read because it has me sitting on the edge of my seat, biting my nails and pulling at my hair. everytime a new chapter drops i get so excited. prince steve?!? yes. yes yes yes. @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe

Crashed The Wedding steve x rockstar!eddie - steve is forced into an arranged marriage and eddie comes to save the day after nine years apart. HELLO this is amazing. pure beauty. please take the time to read this because it’s magnificent, makes my heart swell. it’s very very good. makes me feel things. i love them so much. @piratefishmama

Eddie’s Memory Log steve x eddie - eddie is in hospital post vecna and can’t remember anything, steve visits every day and writes down what eddie can remember - hint hint, eddie always remebers steve. this is so good, i love it very very much, please give it a read. @harmonictechnicality

This Love Came Back To Me famous!steve hopper x ‘dead’!eddie munson - steve rescued eddie’s guitar after his death and processed his grief through song writing, pouted his heart out into the lyrics and took the world by surprise. I LOVE THIS SO MUCH okay, just read it. it’s so fucking good. gut wrenching stuff, okay!? have a read. it’s beautiful. so fucking beautiful i was going through every single possible emotion known to man. @strawberryspence

Bad News First steve x eddie - steve grieves for eddie’s death and becomes close with wayne in the process, slowly falling in love with what could have been with eddie. until… I LOVE IT. it’s beautiful. one of my favs. @strangersteddierthings

Melt Me On Your Tongue wounded!sub!eddie x caring!dom!steve - this is a spicy one, basically pure smut, but it’s got a lot of feelings. i love the style, the atmosphere, and the feeling the author has created for this fic and steve & eddie’s dynamic. it honestly feels delicate to read, and i love it very much. highly recommend. very soft but very spicy and hot :) @steddielations

Black Out Days (Fairground Nights) - eddie x steve - no monsters, modern au. nancy and eddie are best friends, robin and steve are best friends. when nancy and robin date, steve and eddie clash… a lot. ‘tis brilliant. this fic is so fucking angsty, it’s got some really fucking heavy themes (please read the warnings before proceeding) but it’s written so effortlessly beautifully. this has easily become one of my favourites now. it’s more than worth the read. @azrielgreen

#jay's fic recs #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst #fluff #smut #spiderman!steve #modern au #no monsters au #post s4 #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve & wayne #wayne munson #eddie & wayne #fake dating au #roomates au #pre s4 #famous!steve #not really dead!eddie #hurt / comfort #wounded!sub!eddie #caring!dom!steve #dom!eddie #dom!steve #sub!eddie #sub!steve #platonic stobin

[munsonsreputation]

congrats on 500! can I get 🧣? I’m feeling eddie and sweet nothing 🥹

hi jillian!!!! i think sweet nothing is one of the most underrated songs on midnights!!! i think it's so sweet and sappy and just a bunch of love!!! i absolutely loved writing this (eddie is such a soft boi) and i hope i did it justice!!! if you want to check out the sweet nothing fic i did for steve then you can find it here &lt;3

again, thank you so much for you request and your support...it means the world to me!!!! 💘💫🧸

Love.

A simply complicated four letter word.

Something that holds so much weight with its spoken message.

Eddie Munson always thought he wasn’t destined for love, at least romantically. He was always flawed in some way or the other, or at least that was just how it seemed.

In hindsight, he always thought it was some sort of blessing that he didn’t have any romantic partners. He didn’t have to worry about lavish dates. Impressing someone’s parents. Worry about someone else’s safety other than his own. Buying expensive gifts for stupid anniversaries. Get mad at someone for stealing all the blankets.

All of those ridiculous things that people had to put up with—something that he couldn’t imagine himself going through, but that was until he met you.

Weirdly enough, the second he met you, it felt like all of the stars in the universe aligned in some magical and creepy way. He knew that there was no one in the world that he wanted to do all that relationship shit with except with you.

And so now, even three years later, it still seems so surreal to him to walk up the front porch steps of your shared apartment, unlocking it and seeing you dancing in the middle of the kitchen as he watched in the doorway.

You were always dressed in the comfiest clothing—his to be exact. An oversized and faded Metallica tee paired with his boxers that you rolled up to fit snug over your hips. Your hair was either always clipped back or pulled into a messy bun and most times you wouldn’t even hear him come through the door because the music was so loud.

Every day at seven-thirty p.m. this would be his scene back at home. His favorite of all time. The one he would never get tired of coming home to. Even when he was covered in grease and sweat after a long day of work, all of that exhaustion just seemed to seep out of him the moment he saw you.

He smiled, chucking to himself as he watched you bring the end of the wooden spoon closer to your lips, belting out the lyrics to the Madonna song that ringing out through his record player in the center of the living room.

“Hey popstar!” He whistled, locking the front door as he undid the laces of his work-boots.

You jumped, startled at first, something you always did no matter if you knew it was Eddie, “You could at least knock, Eds!” you joked, putting down the spoon onto a plate and turning down the heat of the stove before skipping over to him.

“It’s our place baby, I’m sure I don’t need to knock.” He laughed, making you roll your eyes as you embraced him the moment he got his shoes off and placed them on the little rack near the front door.

He groaned, pushing his brows together while he wiggled in your hold. “m’all sweaty and dirty, babe.”

You shrugged, refusing to let go as held him tighter, “I don’t care. I missed you all day.”

He missed you more.

Not waiting another second, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close as he could feel the warmth of your bodies tangling together after a long day apart. “I missed you too.”

“Not so bad, right?” You couldn’t help but smile up at him with your doey eyes, getting your way once again, but Eddie loved it like that.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned, nodding his head before lowering his head to meet your lips with a soft kiss, “The best. But now you’re gonna be all greasy.”

He scrunched his face, looking down to see the deep oil stains in his overalls, hoping they didn’t get onto you.

“S’ok, we can just shower after dinner.” You ran your fingers over his sides, up and down in comforting motions.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one always running up the water bill with your long ass showers,” he quipped.

You snorted, swatting him playfully on the arm. “How about tonight we kill two birds with one stone and shower together,” you suggested, grinning mischievously, “Save some money and the planet.”

His eyes widened only for a second before a sly grin came over his features. “I might need to hug you after work every day if this is gonna keep happening.”

You both laughed before Eddie leaned in to give you another kiss. You melted into him, feeling grateful that this is the man that came home to you every day.

“Come on chef, I think our dinner might be burning.” He wrapped his arms around your body, trapping you in his cages, while walked the both of you into the kitchen.

Thankfully, it wasn’t burning, just coming to a little simmer with a bit too much steam. He rested his chin on your shoulder, watching as you stirred the pasta and the sauce together.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you dance while cooking.” Eddie announced, a playful grin on his face that you could feel in his voice.

“Oh, stop it,” you replied, but the smile on your face betrayed your attempt at seriousness.

You cut the heat, removing the pan from the burner and placing it off the side while you reached up slightly to grab two plates for you and Eddie.

He kept his arms around you, only loosening them enough to let you move freely as you plated the meal. “I mean it,” he mumbled. “I love watching you move. It’s like everything just falls into place when you’re in the kitchen.”

You leaned back into his embrace, feeling sappy and loved. “You know,” you said, “I never thought I’d find someone who appreciates my cooking and my dancing in the kitchen.”

Eddie chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Well, you found him,” he said. “And you’re also a killer singer… you should ask Madonna to take you with her on tour!”

You laughed, placing down the plates, as you finally turned around and faced him once more, “I think I’ll stick to staying here with you.”

“Well, I feel lucky to be your only audience then,” he said, smiling at you, sharing the third of many kisses tonight.

Eddie took the plates from you and set them on the table, while you quickly turned down the music so that you and Eddie could talk about each of your days over dinner.

“So, how was work today?” you asked, taking a bite of your food.

Eddie sighed, pushing his food around with his fork, “It was a long day, bunch of bullshit at work that’s throwing the whole team off.”

“What kinds of bullshit?”

He grunted, finally telling you all the details about the stupidity going on at the goddamn auto-shop of all places.

“One of the guys are hogging customers and it’s throwing all of us under the bus. We had a meeting today, so I’m crossing my fingers that whatever bullshit he’s pulling is done and we can all just focus on getting our money.”

You were great at listening to him. Hearing him out and trying to access the situation and give him the best advice you could. A trait that Eddie was more than grateful for, someone who not only validated his feelings but wanted to find ways to make him feel better.

When everyone on the outside was up to some crap, he knew he could come to you, the person who was his home and find the comfort that he needed. That everything was going to be ok as long as you were around.

You reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry that’s happening, baby,” you said sincerely. “But I’m sure everything will get figured out and if not, then your boss should fire him. You and the rest of the workers deserve better than to put up with that crap.”

Eddie’s tense hand relaxed under your hold as you spoke. “Thanks for that sweets,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “You’re my rock, y’know that?”

Your heart swelled with joy and pride because he was all you ever wanted. You didn’t care about what people thought about him and the way he was viewed by everyone else. The only thing that mattered to you was that he had a good heart and an even kinder one when it came to you.

“You’re my rock too.” You whispered, patting the top of his hands before he turned yours over and intertwined your fingers together.

It was moments like these that made the two of you appreciate each other a little more. To know that you two had each other no matter. That sure, even if the outside world was filled with the cruelest and harshest of circumstances and people, that you two would always be able to fall back into each other.

“I love you.” He smiled, watching as you got out of your chair and walked over to him.

His arms already held out as you sat in his lap and cuddled into his embrace, “I love you more.”

This was everything.

Your silly banter.

Your teasing smiles.

Your warm hugs.

Your soft kisses.

You and him.

All the sweet nothings that life could offer the two of you.

This was true love.

I hope you liked this jillian!!! from one swiftie to another, I LOVE YOU!!!

reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated!!!

(comment if you would like to be added!) taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @fckthtgetmoney @loving-and-dreaming

#munsonsreputation #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson boyfriend #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #eddie stranger things #taylor swift x stranger things #eddie munson x taylor swift

[alwaysteveswife]

Hello can you do the prompt "you know we need to talk." "about?" "i don't know...last night, maybe?" With Jonathan Byers x Fem! Reader, in which Jonathan goes to Reader's house and asks her why she run away when they were kissing passionately at Steve's party and she just answers him that she doesn't want to make the same mistake because boys always use her and they don't want to have a relationship, so she quitted to falling in love and find a boyfriend.

a/n: Hi! Thanks for placing the request, I had a lot of fun doing it 😊. I made some modifications with the age (as the order indicated a past with couples, I thought it would be better to make the characters between 23-25) I hope that detail doesn't bother you 😣.

Ps.: I had some difficulties making it, the power went out and my computer was not available, anyway I tried to do the best I could, I hope you like it 🥲.

You knew that playing this stupid game was idiotic, but you never thought it would get to this level. You told yourself it would have been best to quit the game after Eddie almost knocked the wind out of his girlfriend, or when you had to watch Steve almost touch the crotch of your best friend -and his current girlfriend- in his turn.

Yeah, you definitely should have gone home after that, but here you were, taking that empty beer bottle and spinning it around, praying that you'd get anyone but Jonathan, you appreciated him too much to lose him over a stupid teenage game.

You crossed your fingers behind your back, watching the speed of its spinning slow down more and more, until it stopped completely, and shit, you could almost feel the bile coming back up your throat, would it be weird if you got up and ran away? Because you wanted to, no, you needed to get out of this one.

"Oh, this is going to get interesting" Eddie joked, clapping his hands animatedly.

"Shut the fuck up" snorted Jonathan. The alcohol had stained his cheeks pale pink, his hair was slightly messy and his shirt had the top buttons undone for a few minutes. He looked good, too good for your taste.

"Y/N, you don't need to if you don't want to" said your best friend, smiling suggestively at you. She knew very well your past and, much more importantly, how you were feeling lately together with Jonathan.

"She's right" You looked at Jonathan, who had softened his tone and his look after he had scolded Eddie.

An overly stupid idea struck you like a bolt of lightning, short but shocking. You rose from your post, ignoring the cheers of your old friends and settling into Jonathan's lap.

You preferred to ignore the fact that his hands rested shakily on your hips, that his cheeks-formerly pink-now glowed red. You pushed those nonsensical ideas out of your head, repeating to yourself that it would only be a kiss, one just like all the ones you've given before.

You cupped his cheeks and pulled him close to you, barely brushing his lips with yours. The kiss was sweet, at least it would seem so to someone who didn't know it was just a teenage game.

The rule - imposed, of course, by Eddie - was that the kiss had to last at least thirty seconds, to make the moment more fun, according to him. So, when you felt Jonathan relax a little under you, you gently rested the tip of your tongue on his lips, taking advantage of the moment when he gasped so you could go all the way in.

You weren't new at this, for God's sake, you were already 24, a kiss like this you'd had hundreds of times, but, for some reason, you felt it was different from the others. It didn't feel like those other times.

Even though it was a game, he took the trouble to caress your waist, to cup your face between his big hands and give you warmth and security and.... something more.

A pang in your chest accompanied by hundreds of memories of your past love made you pull away as fast as you could. The fear you hadn't felt for so long began to bloom, and he had noticed.

"Alright, who's next?" Robin said cheerfully, her words barely coming out of her mouth with coherence.

With your mind still fuzzy, you got up from the floor and shook out your hair, ignoring the trembling in your legs and hands. That kiss had left you feeling bad, too bad.

"Uhm, I... I think I'll go home, I don't feel so good" you said quietly, quickly stopping your friend when she tried to come after you. "Don't worry, I live nearby, I'll let you know when I get there."

You grabbed your bag and left the house as fast as your feet would allow, trying to stop the incessant pounding of your racing heart. You felt so silly.

When you opened your eyes the next day and realized the mess you had made the night before, you almost fell out of bed, almost. You ran to the bathroom and took the longest shower of your life. You needed to clear your mind and this was the best way for you.

You put on comfortable clothes and sat on the couch in your living room, you stared at a blank spot, hoping you could make an excuse for yesterday's kiss. Sticking your tongue in his mouth was not part of the game.

As you made your coffee - too much of it - a knock sounded at the door. You got up, grunting under your breath, and walked over to it. You peered through the peephole, almost screaming as you saw Jonathan's face on the other side.

"Shit, shit, shit" you groaned under your breath, rushing to close the curtains as quietly as possible. You spun around in circles, looking every 10 seconds at that door you had opened and closed so many times, the same door that, if you touched it now, would ruin your life next to one of your best friends.

"Y/N, I know you're in there, can you open it for me?" Jonathan said, raising his voice so you could hear him perfectly.

"God, shit" you growled, pulling open the curtains again and opening the door, "Jonathan, what are you doing here?" you said with an uncomfortable smile.

"May I come in? I don't think it's appropriate to talk in the middle of the hallway" he said quietly, trying to get you to look him in the face. You did everything you could to stop him from getting his point across.

"Okay, go ahead" you muttered, stepping aside to let him in. You closed your eyes as you smelled the scent of wet earth thanks to being surrounded by forest most of the time. It smelled really good. "Well, would you like something to eat? Or maybe something to drink? I recently bought some really good drinks and-".

"you know we need to talk." Jonathan said, looking at you seriously.

The urge to vomit immediately returned. You pressed your lips together tightly and tried to think of a topic, any topic, but your head was so fuzzy that you just couldn't think of anything.

"About?" you said in a low voice. You felt so miserable and stupid, this had been your fault, you accepted the challenge, you sat on it, you made that brush of lips something far beyond what it should be between two friends.

"i don't know...last night, maybe?" Jonathan moved closer to you, resting his hands on your arms and squeezing them gently, "you can't, no, we can't avoid the subject, it's useless to pretend nothing happened."

You tried to keep your tears from falling by blinking as fast as you could. The flashbacks were coming back, the times when all those idiots rejected you in the worst way, all those friends you lost for doing something similar; you were so scared of losing him now.

"Why not?" You said with a broken voice, looking at the wall next to you, you didn't want to see the disappointment and hate in his eyes, "I know it was wrong, that I went too far, but I don't want to talk about this, I don't want to lose you, you're my best friend and I-".

Jonathan's lips interrupted your spew of words. You gasped in surprise, having to grab his shoulders to keep your balance. It was short compared to yesterday, but the butterflies in your stomach, the nerves, the anxiety, the affection, it was all still there, even a little stronger.

"Y/N" he whispered against your lips, breathing shakily. His eyes, which you could barely make out because of his dilated pupils, looked into your eyes for the first time since yesterday. You felt so small next to him. "Believe me when I tell you I won't walk away from you because of that." He licked his lips, pressing his forehead to yours, "I know you felt the same way I did, I know it was the same reason you wanted to avoid me, but you should know that I would be unable to leave you."

"It scares me" you whispered, pulling away from him a little so you could think better, "I don't... I never had a normal relationship, you know that, all those guys always treated me badly, they cheated on me, I don't feel capable of being able to be in a relationship with someone, I don't want to lose you, not you".

His gaze softened, this time he let his hand fall on your head, leaving a soft caress on it.

"In that case, let me prove to you that I can be the first to be serious with you, to treat you the way you truly deserve" he smiled sweetly, making your cheeks warm and your heart race, "give me a chance to make you happy."

Masterlist.

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