#while robin and eddie are having the time of their LIVES

[steddiecameraroll]

“Happy two year anniversary on your crush, dingus.” Robin tosses a peanut at Steve’s head.

“Shut uuuup,” he groans into his arms after an embarrassing interaction with the one and only Eddie Munson only 7 min earlier.

“What did you get yourself? What’s the two year anniversary anyway? Paper? Wood?”

“Why do you torture me?” He softly hits his forehead against the top of the countertop near the candy rack.

“Because you deserve it.”

“He keeps getting hotter,” Steve whines.

“So you keep saying.” She crosses her arms and leans against the counter at Steve’s side.

“Did you see? Did you see that tattoo on his- under his- oh my god.” Steve waves his hand under his armpit. “That should be illegal. Why does he think wearing a tank top with that much skin showing is-is appropriate? If he shows up at my house in fucking cut off jean shorts again, I’m going to lose it.”

“Oh yeah?” Like she hasn’t heard this before. “You mean like how you said you were going to throw ice at him, if he showed up in those wranglers to help with your car? Or when you said you were going to bite him, if he wore that stretched out loose-necked band shirt? Maybe this time you should kiss him. Spice it up a little.”

“Shut up, those jeans are diabolical. No one ever said that cowboys had great asses.”

“Um, actually I think they did? Why are chaps assless?”

Steve stands up and thinks about that for a minute. “Oh, shit.”

“You gonna finally say something to him?” She’s thisclose to shoving their faces together.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to ruin anything.” Steve says with a sigh.

Meanwhile…

“Idiot, idiot, idiot.” Eddie bashes his head into a pillow.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” Jeff rolls his eyes.

“It was horrendously bad. He stared at me like I don’t know, like I grew a second head or something.”

“When are you going to just talk to him about it? Dude, it’s been two years. Two years of listening to you pine over Harrington. If you don’t tell him, I will figure out a way to tell him myself.”

“Et tu Brute?” Eddie grabs the collar of his shirt in mock horror.

“If you don’t tell him, I can promise you Dustin is mere moments away from piecing it together. The way you look at Steve when he picks the kids up? Dude, it’s over.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me. I know I’m on borrowed time!” He digs his fingers into his hair.

“Aren’t you going over there this weekend?” Jeff crushes his empty soda can and tosses it easily into his nearby trash can.

“Yessss, ugh the first pool party of the summer. I gotta find those stupid shorts.”

“You own shorts?”

“They were an old pair of Wayne’s jeans I cut into shorts. They’re a little loose around the waist so they don’t dig into me.” Eddie falls back onto Jeff’s mattress with a sigh. “Last year I could’ve sworn I saw Steve checking me out in them.”

“Dude? Fucking tell him.” Jeff groans.

Steve rushes to the front door after hearing Eddie’s signature knock. When he pulls it open he’s unprepared for what’s standing on the other side.

“Hey, man.” Eddie smiles wide while holding up a six pack.

“Sh-shorts…,” Steve murmurs.

“Huh? Oh, I know my legs are whiter than white.”

“Come in,” Steve tries to even his voice.

“I’ll put these in the fridge.”

Steve walks behind Eddie as the man heads into the kitchen. Steve’s trying not to ogle. Honestly. He’s trying to keep his eyes off Eddie’s ass, objectifying him like he’s a piece of meat, but it’s hard when he keeps shimmying his hips to the music playing in the living room.

After Eddie slides the beer into the fridge he grabs one of the cold ones Steve loaded up earlier and kicks the door shut with his hip.

“Everyone else outside?”

“Yeah, I knew you were on your way so I was finishing up in here and listening for the van.” Steve grabs a bag of chips, rips it open, and pours into a big plastic bowl.

“Hey, did you know we’ve been friends for two years now?” Eddie bumps Steve’s hip with his own.

“Oh yeah?” Steve definitely knew that.

“Happy anniversary,” Eddie grins.

“Heh, that’s what Robin said.”

“She- Robin said happy anniversary?”

Shit

Steve opens his mouth trying to come up with something but shuts it again when it all sounds stupid in his head.

“Yeah, uh, she said something like we’ve been friends for two years.”

Eddie shifts and leans on the counter to face Steve. “You and her? You’ve been friends longer than that.”

“No, no, you and me. You and me have been friends for two years.”

Eddie furrows his brows while chewing on his bottom lip. Steve keeps his eyes pointed forward as he continues to situate snacks. They stand in silence for a beat and Steve feels like he should say something.

Eddie beats him to it. “Tell me something. Do I look ridiculous in these shorts?”

Steve feels his stomach drop because there’s no way he’s getting out of this unscathed.

“They were my uncle’s and I cut them up. Do you think I should cut them shorter, maybe?” Eddie turns around and looks over his shoulder at Steve.

Steve’s eyes flick to Eddie’s denim hugged butt before clearing his throat and looking away again. “I don’t know. They look fine like that.”

“Sure, but,” Eddie turns around and takes a hold of the hem of Steve’s shorts between his thumb and index finger. “Your’s are so much shorter than mine.”

Steve can feel Eddie’s knuckle brushing against his thigh.

“I may not have thighs like yours, Stevie.” Eddie leans into Steve’s space while continuing to hold the hem. “But do you think I could pull them off?”

Steve’s brain is malfunctioning because does he mean pull Steve’s shorts off? “My shorts?”

“Hmm,” Eddie grins and then looks over Steve’s shoulder like he’s making sure no one is watching. “I’m gonna do something that I’m praying you’re into. If not, please don’t punch my face.”

“What-?” Steve’s question gets cut off when Eddie places a quick kiss to Steve’s mouth.

It’s so quick Steve’s brain didn’t even realize it was happening until Eddie was already standing back in place. He stands in shock, lifts his fingertips to touch his lips, and gawks at the doe-eyed man before him.

“Was that ok?” Eddie’s leaning away.

Steve’s nodding before he speaks. “Yeah, mhmm.”

“Can I do it longer this time?”

Steve can’t speak but he nods without hesitation. Eddie makes a quiet noise before moving in and kissing Steve.

And it feels….

“I knew it!”

Steve pulls back and the two men turn to see Robin standing smugly.

“I knew it! Two fucking years.” She shakes her head before waving her hand at them and moving to the fridge. “Oh don’t stop on my account.”

#the spend the entire afternoon sneaking away and making out #Dustin ran in on them in Steve’s dad’s den but they broke a part before Dustin could see #Steve pretended to be showing off the crown molding #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiecameraroll posts #my writing #steddie ficlet

[caxde]

thunder step 1 2 3 4 5 you are Dustin’s older sister, you and Eddie used to be friends but haven’t seen eachoter in a while, Dustin needs a sub for Hellfire tonight and you agree to go.

denial 1 2 3 you are Dustin’s older sister, you and Eddie have a stablished "situationship". This fic follows the events of Srtanger Things seson 4, as reader! is now a part of the group

dazed and confused you work on Hawkin's music shop, and Eddie is a regular costumer. Your friends (Steve and Robin mostly) help you to gain confidence and flirt with him.

unlovable you are Dustin’s older sister, you and Eddie used to be boyfriend and girlfriend, but haven't spoke to each other, until your little brother messes things up.

uncertainty you are Dustin’s older sister, and you have developed a very confussing attraction to your brother and friend's friend, Eddie.

tangerine you are a teacher on Hawkins High, all of your friends have moved on and found succes, however, Eddie has had the best luck, achiving the tittle of Rockstar, and missing you more than he's aware of.

heartsease you’re new to Hawkins and you’ve been having a rough time, you find a friendship and feeling blooming between you and your dealer eddie.

still live you and Eddie have been friends for ever, but have chosen to keep your feelings quiet, until a single afternoon changes it all.

labyrinth You knew Eddie before it all, the fame and the succes. He knew you before you found fame, as you both reach it, your relationship changes into something new.

bright eyes 1 2 3 4 you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you.

drabbles

Wayne reacts to yours and Eddie's relationship

reader plays dnd with eddie, lua and the lunch kids

reader and eddie go on a little date

lovingsomeone (steddie)

Eddie's got a crush on you, Steve's got a crush on you, and you're not sure who you like. A school dance and a summer party help you figure things out. +mdni smut

#fanfic masterlist #masterlist #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader

[solarmorrigan]

For the fanfic mash-up prompt list, what about 2. Historical and 73. Stranded due to inclement weather?

Me, a history minor, upon reading this prompt: I've never learned anything about any period in history ever in my life

But! After drawing a blank for a while, we've got some vaguely Great Depression-era Steddie

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 1. Historical AU + 73. Stranded Due to Inclement Weather

cw: brief assumed infidelity (not actually, though)

-

The drifter is handsome, beneath the smudges of road dust he’s picked up from traveling; his long hair is tied back from his face, revealing a soft mouth, high cheekbones, and eyes you could get lost in. He’s carrying a guitar on his back and not much else. He isn’t dressed nearly warm enough for the weather as it is, and certainly not for the snow that the heavy clouds above are threatening.

Steve already knows he’s going to invite him in.

“I don’t give handouts,” Steve says, mostly for himself, so he can pretend he isn’t a soft touch.

“I’m not asking for a handout,” the drifter says. “I’m more than happy to work for a meal.”

Steve pauses, like he’s thinking. There isn’t much left to the Harrington farm these days; they really only have the house, the barn, and enough land to keep some livestock – mostly chickens. (Robin loves the chickens; when they eat one, she makes sure they thank it by name, which Steve personally thinks is weird, but whatever helps her part more easily with them, he guesses.) The chores don’t take long, usually, but with Robin gone for the week, visiting her mother a few towns over, there are still a few things that need doing.

“Guess I could use a hand,” Steve says, and the drifter smiles at him, bright and dimpled, and Steve can practically hear Robin tutting at him – such a sucker for a pretty face.

At least the imaginary Robin in his head is easier to dismiss.

The drifter—“Eddie,” he introduces himself with a firm, calloused handshake—stores his guitar in the kitchen and gets to work helping Steve around the farm (such as it is). He doesn’t seem to have much familiarity with farmwork specifically, but he’s a hard worker and a good listener, and he slots in right alongside Steve with surprising ease.

He’s a bit of a talker – a storyteller, more like, spinning all kinds of yarns about his travels, half of which Steve is sure can’t be true, but which have him hooked anyway. Eddie seems to like him that way: his attention so focused on Eddie that he almost forgets what he’s doing several times throughout the day.

The hours fly by; the wind gets stronger, and you can almost taste the snow on it. Steve gives the animals one last check, makes sure everything is ready to weather a storm should it come, and then he and Eddie hurry inside the house. Steve cooks while Eddie washes up, and they eat sitting at the kitchen table like Steve and Robin usually do; there’s no one to impress by sitting in the overwrought dining room that had always intimidated Steve as a kid.

Snow is falling thick and fast by the time they finish eating.

“I’m not enough of a bastard to send you back out in that,” Steve says, twitching the curtains aside to look at the way little drifts have already started to collect against the fenceposts. “You’re welcome to stay, if you want.”

“Well, I’m not enough of an idiot to turn you down,” Eddie replies, sending Steve a sly grin. “Anything you want me to do around the house to earn a bed for the night?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods towards the living room. “Keep me company by the fire for a while?”

It’s a bit of a gamble – if Steve’s read Eddie wrong, this could end very badly, but Steve doesn’t think he has. He’s always been good at gauging a person’s interest, and he’s certain he’d caught Eddie’s eyes wandering more than once when he thought Steve wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie spends a long moment regarding Steve. “I’ll do you one better,” he finally says, and reaches for his guitar.

Eddie’s voice is rough and low, not always in key, but sincere and achingly soulful. He plays like he was born with a guitar in his hands, pulling music from it a hundred times better than anything Steve’s ever heard on the radio. If he’d been distracted by Eddie before, he’s absolutely enraptured now. He doesn’t even realize he’s been steadily drifting closer to him on the sofa until their knees are brushing.

“It’s getting late,” Eddie says, glancing towards the clock on the mantle. “Am I going to bunk in the barn?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in the house.”

“Sure.” Eddie’s grin is slow-spreading as he watches Steve. “It’s pretty cozy down here by the fireplace. Sofa’s nice.”

“I could make you up a bed on the sofa.” Steve nods. “Or – there’s plenty of room in my bed, upstairs. Much cozier up there.”

Eddie’s grin is positively wolfish now. “You’d have me in your marriage bed?” he teases, and Steve shakes his head.

“My wife and I don’t share a bed,” he says (this is largely true, except when they have unavoidable overnight visitors, or when it’s very cold).

“No?” Eddie asks.

“We have an understanding,” Steve replies.

“Do you, now?” Eddie still looks like he isn’t quite sure whether to laugh or to eat Steve alive, but Steve only nods.

“She doesn’t mind if I have the occasional man around, and in return, I don’t mind if she has the occasional lady,” he explains softly. “And we keep each other safe.”

At that, Eddie’s grin softens, becomes warm, almost fond. “And who’s keeping you safe now? Inviting a complete stranger up into your bed." He shakes his head, still trying to tease. “I could be anybody. I could be a murderer, for all you know.”

“You aren’t,” Steve answers with full conviction.

The sincerity seems to give Eddie pause. “What makes you so sure?” he asks, and now he seems almost serious.

“Your eyes,” Steve says readily. “They’re too kind for you to be any kind of bad person.”

Those eyes go wide with surprise. “Well,” Eddie says slowly, “you’re one of the few people who thinks that.”

“Well, maybe other people need to pay more attention,” Steve says. “But if I’m wrong, and you do kill me, at least the last thing I see will be something beautiful.”

And that seems to do it. Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve, his lips chapped and warm against Steve’s.

“You might be the killer here, actually,” Eddie murmurs when they pull apart. “You’re gonna knock me dead with those lines, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Steve likes that.

“Better come upstairs with me and give me something else to think about, then,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t need to be told again.

The snow continues through the night and into the next day. Steve and Eddie go out first thing to check the animals, to make sure everything is holding against the wind and the snow, and then head back to bed, where they spend the remainder of the day. It seems unkind to send Eddie away in this weather, after all.

In fact, it’s still so cold by the time Robin comes back from her visit that Steve hasn’t yet had the heart to send Eddie away. And if he and Robin talk it over, and if Eddie is still around by the time the warm spring weather comes, and if Eddie just stays and stays, the only thing people in town ever really wonder about is how the Harringtons found the money to hire a hand for their tiny piece of land.

#this ended up being a lot of fun! thanks for the prompt! #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #platonic stobin #please don't look at this too hard though it will collapse under the weight of scrutiny #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

[ataliagold]

Under July Stars That Would Glow Like Sparks

For @astrangersummer week 5 prompt 'fireflies'. Title from I Wonder by Gabe Quinn.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1242

Tags: Established Steddie, post-Vecna, everyone lives, fluff and minor angst, bittersweet, summer nights, catching fireflies, soft Steve, soft Eddie, Dustin being Dustin

Summary: At the end of summer, Steve and Eddie spend the evening with Dustin on a familiar hill. Soon, they'd have to tell the kid they were about to leave Hawkins, but not tonight. Tonight was for catching fireflies.

___

Eddie cackled, leaping around in the field, doing his utmost to catch fireflies in clasped hands under the moonlight.

Steve sat nearby. A beer beside him, Eddie’s thin hoody rolled up under him, protecting his Levis from the grass. He watched fondly as Eddie scuttled around with all the grace of a newborn deer, clapping his hands together as he tried to catch the little bugs between his fingers.

Dustin was having much more luck with the net, swooping it high in the air and then twisting off the top of it to keep his catch inside it.

“Eddie, you gotta use the torch like I said, remember?” Dustin huffed, net in one hand, the other on his hip – a mirror of the ‘mom’ pose Steve was so often teased about. “Mimic their light pattern, turn the torch on and off, it helps draw them -”

Eddie scoffed, reached out and flicked Dustin on the edge of his cap – why he was still wearing that thing at night time, Steve wasn’t sure.

“Yeah, yeah, Henderson,” Eddie teased. “Just admit you’re inferior at catching them, you gotta use the damn net after all -”

“You haven’t even caught one yet!” Dustin spluttered, indignant.

“I’m integrating myself into their group!” Eddie argued. “They’re just…getting to know me. Just wait, I’ll have that jar full within the hour.”

Steve smiled, chuckled lightly into his beer, took a sip and set it aside again.

They were on the hill where Dustin’s Cerebro had once stood a few years ago. It was long gone now; dismantled by a quiet Dustin with Steve standing off to one side, the kid barely able to look at it after hearing the screams of his friends, the roars of a monster that had sounded from it.

They’d helped save the world from this very spot once.

Now, it was just a hill.

Steve turned away from Eddie and Dustin for a moment. Looked down at the twinkling lights of Hawkins down below, at the little town that was slowly getting back on its feet after enduring literal hell.

They were leaving soon. He and Eddie.

They hadn’t told the kids yet. Steve knew Dustin would take it the hardest, that maybe he wouldn’t fully understand, wouldn’t be able to grasp the fact that Hawkins no longer felt like home for all of them.

Soon, they’d tell them. In the next few days, in fact, now that they were nearly ready to leave. They’d tell them about the apartment in Chicago close to Robin’s college, about the part-time course Steve had been accepted into, about the several promising job listings Eddie had interviews for.

But before that, they’d decided to let them have one last summer.

They’d take the kids to Lover’s Lake, watch as they splashed around and shrieked with laughter, hang back on the side of the shore and shake their heads when the kids asked them to join them in the water.

They’d go for barbeques at the Hopper-Byers house, sip beer with Hopper and Wayne. Steve would sit with the former Chief when he went quiet at the end of the day, when he nursed a cigarette that had long burnt out and watched the kids with a faraway look in his eyes.

They’d help Lucas with his basketball – or rather, Steve would help, flushed and sweaty but happy as he bounced a ball around the court with the boy, gave him tips and encouragement while Eddie sat on the sideline, barely hiding the way he was leering at Steve in his short shorts.

They’d sit with El and Max, Steve doing El’s hair just the way she liked it, sitting quietly in front of the TV while Eddie and Max laughed loudly at whatever terrible horror movie they’d decided on.

They’d have one last campaign, Eddie making it extra special without ever telling the kids why. Steve even joined in briefly, playing the role of a heroic NPC, Eddie making sure to impart all the DM knowledge he could onto Will and Mike.

And, on a clear, warm evening, they’d catch fireflies with Dustin.

“Steeeeeeve,” Eddie called, pulling Steve from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Come help me? I’m not sure these bugs like me after all.”

“I told you!” Dustin said loudly. “If you just use the torch like I suggested, you’d have heaps!”

Steve huffed out a laugh, stood up with a slight wince as the scar tissue on his sides pulled, and dusted dry grass off himself.

He approached Eddie, shaking his head at the way he was swiping at the air. Reaching out, he clasped his larger hands over his boyfriend’s.

“Slowly,” he murmured, guiding Eddie’s hands gently around the nearest little glowing bug. “Don’t scare them, just…gentle.”

Eddie watched, wide-eyed, as Steve gradually squeezed his fingers together, trapping the firefly inside.

His hands shone, warm and orange, and he grinned as he felt the bug zapping about against his palms.

“We got one,” Eddie whispered. “Look, Steve.”

Steve chuckled, kissed the top of Eddie’s head because he couldn’t not. “Yeah, Eds. Dustin, hand us the jar, will you?”

Dustin brought it over, held it up to Eddie’s cupped hands.

Eddie paused. Glanced over at Steve, then back to the jar.

“What are you waiting for?” Dustin asked, raising his eyebrows.

Eddie shifted from foot-to-foot quickly, scrunching his face up, but keeping his hands gentle around the bug. Steve recognized the signs of him being caught in indecisiveness, brought a hand to his lower back.

“Eds?”

“I think I wanna let it go,” Eddie said firmly.

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Seriously? After all that?”

“Hey, it’s my bug,” Eddie shot back. “I can do what I like with it.”

Dustin groaned, stomped away, picked up his net to get back to work.

Once he was out of earshot, Steve stepped in closer to Eddie.

“You ok, Eds?” he whispered, because the other man’s face had fallen a bit as he stared down at the still-trapped bug.

Eddie blinked, and a silent tear tracked down his cheek.

Steve hummed, quiet and soft, reached up to brush it away.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

“I don’t…” Eddie paused, took a breath, started again. “Should we let it go?”

Steve took Eddie’s clasped hands in his again, knew he wasn’t really talking about the bug.

“Do you want to?”

“I think so. But we put so much work in, does it make sense to just…let it leave?”

Steve kissed him. Brief and sweet. “I think it makes all the sense in the world.”

Eddie’s face twitched as the firefly batted against his palm again, seeking an exit.

Slowly, he opened his hands.

The two of them watched as the bug slowly emerged then zapped into the air, their eyes following that small point of light until it faded into the night sky.

Steve took Eddie’s hand, held it tight as they watched Dustin swing his net around, cursing or laughing depending on how successful he was.

Steve would miss that kid. God, he’d miss him.

But he was ready to put Hawkins in his rear-view mirror, ready to wake up next to Eddie every day in a town that wasn’t permanently tainted by so much horror for them both.

He looked at Eddie. Smiled sadly, squeezed his hand tighter.

Together, they lay back in the grass to watch the moon glow down on Hawkins, perhaps for the last time.

___

#a stranger summer #stranger things #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[bigboysteveharrington]

Whenever Steve’s dad pulls an asshole move that particularly pisses him off, Steve takes his friends spite shopping with his father’s credit card

It happens first with Robin when the mall just burned down and Steve’s still visibly injured from what went down there and his father is already on him about finding a new job as if he got fired or quit for fun and his job didn’t burn down and sure his dad doesn’t know the real version of what happened, but he almost died ‘in the fire’, can’t he at least have an inch of breathing room?

But he hasn’t cut Steve off yet, he’s just threatening to if he doesn’t start looking for a new job soon. So Steve picks up Robin and takes her to every store in town still open and buys himself a bunch of shit and keeps asking her what she wants and suggesting stuff for her and when she brushes off one of the things he shows her as way too expensive, Steve tells her he’s paying. And Robin looks hesitant, so he adds, “Well, actually, my douche father is. That’s the whole point of this. So the more expensive the better.” And Robin just studies his face for a moment and then turns and says, “In that case…” and just starts grabbing things and they both grin

After this, Robin is a staple in the tradition of spending as much of his father’s money in one day as possible whenever Steve wants to send a message. The kids also frequently benefit from Steve’s random “Come on, we’re going shopping. You can get whatever you want. I’m buying.”

They don’t know why Steve sometimes just randomly decides to spoil them all and they don’t question it. Obviously he can afford it. At first, they try to just get a few things but then Steve starts shoving more at them and asking if they want it, so they start trying to push the limits of what they can get, but it becomes very clear very fast that Steve has no limit for what he’ll buy for them when he’s in this mood

Steve’s father hasn’t acknowledged Steve’s rage spending once. Steve knows that’s probably a good thing, but at the same time it annoys the hell out of him that he doesn’t know if his father even notices or cares. And that’s why the scale of his spending goes up every time

#The kids have convinced him to drive them out of town to a bigger comic book store and to buy out half the store before #They had no clue that Steve was *looking* for them to spend a bunch of money so they just thought it was the luckiest day of their lives #Pre-season 4 Eddie when Dustin’s showing off all the stuff King Steve let him get like 🤨 what #He definitely started the reckless spite spending back in the Tommy and Carol days and they were all for it #His purchases back then were more just what douchey extravagant things can he get more than hey let’s buy everyone everything #They’re spaced out and come at random times so the kids still have zero idea what sometimes randomly puts Steve in this mood every once in #a while #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #Platonic with a capital P #Platonic Stobin #Stranger Things #ST #Mine

[ima-ghost-art]

What if Steve and Eddie got trapped in the upside down during the final battle of 87?

El cant find them and can no longer open a gate for everyone to try find them, so everyone has to believe they're dead. The party feels lost without them.

Of course, Dustin Robin Max Lucas and Erica are all devastated, all refusing to believe that the two were dead, sure that there must be a way to get them back. But, weeks turn to months and months turn to years and there is still no sign of Steve and Eddie being found.

After a while the group is forced to just start moving on with their lives, each moving away but all staying in contact.

Slowly they start forming their own familys, Lucas and Max (now living in California near Jonathan and Argyle) welcome thier first daughter 'Stephanie Erica Sinclair' April 29th 1992, she was a happy accident and was named after her parents favourite siblings.

The same year, Argyle and Eden have a little girl named Evie, the two splitting custody after Eden moved out of Utah to California near Argyle.

Next was Nancy and Jonathan two years later, the pair having a set of twins 'James Edmund and Katie Barbara' August 10th 1994. Jon takes full custody when they turn 3, living with Argyle back in Cali, letting Nancy follow her dream of becoming a journalist in Chicago, while he worked his dream job at a photography studio stationed on the coast. The two both knew they weren't going to last, however they dont stop loving eachother. (Nancy still helps out with the twins when shes in the area as well as weekly phone calls, making sure they know she loves them even if shes not often around)

In 96, 'Issac Lucas Sinclair' who was the same age as a little girl called 'Morgan' later adopted by El who Dr Owen's believes nay have powers similar to hers and Henry's.

Robin and Vickie, who now live in Michigan, adopt a son in 2000 a trans boy named Tyler, a year older than Stephanie.

At this point it's 2007, having been 20 years since the final battle, 20 years since the party lost Steve and Eddie, 20 whole years. The only people who still lived in Hawkins was Dustin and Suzie Henderson, the two of them both choosing not to have kids, living together in one of the newer houses built along the edge of Hawkins where they had easy access to their jobs working in a lab just outside of Indianapolis. The two secretly working on a way to potentially find their missing friends.

Dustin becomes the fun uncle to his friends kids, Hosting a new version of Hellfire for them with Will being his co DM!

Wayne Munson also continued to live in Hawkins after he helped during the final battle, after losing his nephew he moved in with Claudia living with her.

The wheelers and Sinclair's still both live there too, Holly Wheeler after graduating, now being a teacher at Hawkins high.

The Hopper-Byers move out towards Illinois, Mike and Will both living together in an apartment together in Indianapolis, and El lives with Max and Lucas with their children together in California.

(lest not also forget Garath and Jeff, who also helped in the final battle, the two along with the other members of Corroded Coffin started making it big during the early 90s, and successfully did 2 world tours, they always dedicate each performance to Eddie, as he was the man who started the band and would have loved to see where they ended up now!!)

The party end up coming back to Hawkins in July, to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the end of the Upside Down.

...That is until Stephanie Sinclair goes missing while cycling back to the Hendersons after an evening at the arcade with the other party members kids. Everyone else was staying at the wheelers or the old Byers home, but hers were staying with her Uncle Dustin like they always did. Issac and Morgan hadnt joined them so she was biking on her own.

They found her abandoned bike along the edge of Mirkwood the next day... Stephanie Sinclair had completely disappeared

It didnt take long for missing animal reports to start cropping up either, same with another missing person, one of Holly's students...

When Stephanie is finally saved a week later she wasnt found alone. Her and the missing student, were accompanied by two familiar young adults.

Steve and Eddie, both looking like they had barely aged at all since getting trapped in the upside down.

#this au has been stuck in my head for AGES now!! #like the idea that time works differently in the upside down #what if someone was to be trapped in there longer than a week? #steve and eddie getting trapped for 20 years #but they only aged/ lived 2 #when the kids get taken their aswell steve and eddie protect them before the party is able to come and save them #when they find Stephanie she recognises them from the pictures Max and Dustin would show her of their big brothers #ones she was told went missing after the earthquakes #however shes confused how they look almost the same from the pictures instead of being in their 40s like the should be #eddie and steve having the realization that they've been gone 20 years #que them being saved and having a really emotional reunion #while also being stuck with the jarring effects of the kids you babysat growing up without you #/your old babysitters/ party mom and dad friends are now stuck decades behind you #honestly this is an idea i dont have the time to dive into #however if any one wanted to write something like this i would love to know bc its such an interesting idea to me?? #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #max mayfield #dustin henderson #second generation #stranger things next generation

[xenon-demon]

ooo tell me more about med student steve & nurse eddie 💕💕💕

HELLO JANAI!!! this fic is the one I'm most actively writing rn (as opposed to Kas!Steve AU where i'm constantly rotating it in my brain like a rotisserie chicken, but that's for outlining/untangling knots in the plot reasons lmao) so I am Very Happy to talk about it <3

I did actually finish properly outlining this AU today too!! Unless inspiration strikes me and I write way too much for something, it looks like this fic will be 7 chapters and a short epilogue.

SO, to answer your ask I'm going to share with you what some of the other ST characters (those that I've slotted into a healthcare role, at least) are doing in this AU:

Chrissy is the ward clerk, aka the person who handles all the admin tasks, on the ward Eddie works on! They're best friends, and if there's a quiet moment (or more likely, Eddie is on break) you can usually find them talking shit together at Chrissy's desk. Chrissy is also a bi icon in this AU 🩷💜💙

Joyce is the Nurse Unit Manager of the ward - as the title implies, she's the boss of the nursing staff on the ward and in charge of things like making sure hospital policies are being followed & organizing the nursing team so all patients are adequately cared for. She is Very Overworked but she runs a tight ship!

Argyle is one of the hospital pharmacists, and Jonathan is a trainee hospital pharmacist working with him (but not directly under him as Argyle's personal trainee. That'd be a little weird, considering they're dating). Argyle is also working on a research paper about the benefits of medicinal marijuana (with hopes the team's findings will contribute to further legalisation across the country).

Jason sucks. Jason is a medical student on placement with Steve, and he's... he's what we call a gunner. In med school, gunners are students who are ambitious to a fault, potentially willing to throw other students under the bus to further their own career or academic performance, and often focus too much on the "being right"/"being The Best at medicine" aspects of being a doctor instead of prioritizing the patient and their needs. Basically, he's an out-of-touch privileged jackass who comes from a long line of doctors, and has therefore just Assimilated into the family destiny without ever thinking about what being a doctor actually means.

Vickie works in the hospital pathology centre - she's one of the people who picks up samples and processes them after the doctors or nurses drop them off. Every time Robin goes up there (because it's common to send the med students off to drop off the pathology samples) she is So Very Normal and makes Normal People Conversation with Vickie. Robin is so smooth, I promise.

Nancy is another medical student like Robin & Steve are, and she's currently with the consult psychiatry team with Robin. Nancy is also dating Jonathan, because Jonathan has two hands, and Nancy is very interested in the research work Argyle does. She is still Steve's ex-girlfriend in this AU - they had a poorly-thought-out brief relationship in their first year of medical school, and no one in the medical school has let them live it down.

Dr Henry Creel is the consultant doctor in charge of the Internal Medicine team Steve & Jason are currently with. As he's in charge of the team, he's the one who grades the med students and decides if they pass or fail their placement term. I'm sure nothing bad will come of this.

For reference, the "young adults" of the ST cast are in their mid-twenties in this AU. This means that those in fields like nursing or pharmacy have already graduated from college and are full-status employees in their chosen fields, while the med students of the group are still working their way through medical school (since doing a bachelor's + an MD is pretty time-consuming, and that's before you take any time off from studying after high school or between degrees). Also, Henry is Older here, since in canon he's like... what, 40 in 1986? He's at least in his fifties in this AU, since consultant doctors are rarely any younger than that (particularly if they're not brand new to the job).

Also, if I haven't said this elsewhere already, this is a modern AU! No way am I forcing myself to replace all my healthcare knowledge with healthcare knowledge from 40 years ago for this fic, it's bad enough I have to pretend to understand how the American healthcare system works lmao

Send me an ask about my WIPs!

#charlie writes things #med student steve & nurse eddie #hospital au #at the moment i think the only ones who won't make an actual appearance in the fic are argyle & jonathan #they're living their best (most peaceful) lives in pharmacy land while steve and eddie have their relationship problems #god bless <3 #also i think somewhere along the line this fic accidentally became about me finding meaning in my chosen course of study #and exploring what being a doctor means to me. through the medium of steve harrington #huh. #i could unpack that in therapy but pffffft who has time for that *throws the whole suitcase away* #also NO i have no idea what robin ship i'm going with for this au ok!!!!!! i just know it's not going to be ronance #nancy already has a bf and her bf has a bf. nancy could ALSO have a gf but she doesn't have time for that in med school lmao #maybe i'll just let robin have two girlfriends.

[ranwithscissors]

Stranger Things time travel concept where Steve Harrington wakes up on November 1st, 1984 friendless, newly single, and with a bunch of memories that haven’t happened yet.

#basically I want Steve to start hanging out with Robin and Eddie much earlier #while retaining his character development #also obviously this would be a fix it #but things still go to shit because Steve is kinda dumb and not omniscient and learned a large chunk of the plot second hand the first time #yes this is a Steddie set up #I just really want Eddie to live and be gay and have friends #and Steve doesn’t have to be as lonely in 84 #as a treat #stranger things #stranger things fix it #stranger things au #steddie #stranger things 4 #stranger things 2 #steve harrington #time travel au #stranger things time travel #eddie munson

[catknives]

soulmate-esque au where steve is born with a psychic power where the first time he touches someone who will be important to him, he gets flashes of future moments between the two of them.

the first time he touches nancy he sees flashes of the two of them happy together, then an argument. the flashes clearly jump ahead a few years, as if they maybe stopped talking for a while, but they still look happy in that future. he thinks that maybe they get in a big fight, but clearly they’re still in each others lives for a long, long time.

when he ruffles dustin’s hair looking for dart, he gets flashes of laughter and jokes and a long life of brotherhood. he sees secret handshakes and little plastic dice and being invited to thanksgiving.

they’re not always positive. the first time he brushes past billy in the locker room, he’s filled with flashes of anger and dread and pain, and none of what he sees makes sense in the moment.

on his first day at scoops, he shakes robin’s hands and gets his biggest vision yet. there’s so much love and happiness and joy there, including a montage in which they seem to work a frankly absurd variety of jobs. but he gets stuck on an image of himself in a tux, robin in a wedding dress, and thinks this must be my future wife.

it isn’t until much later, on a dirty bathroom floor, that he realizes he was standing behind robin in that vision of her in a wedding dress, and, oh, he’s her best man.

almost a year later, when eddie pushes him against a wall with a broken bottle to his neck, steve is almost convinced he’s passed out because of the sheer number of visions running through his head. some of the flashes are innocent happy moments—sharing a joint, laughing at a movie, making dinner—but there’s also flashes of pleasure and adoration and devotion on a level that steve’s never felt before.

he sees flashes of waking up next to eddie in bed, walking a dog around a lake hand in hand, watching eddie perform on stage, a soft kiss to a bare shoulder.

and suddenly steve yearns, thinks he’s never fully known the meaning of that word until now. he tries to play it cool, doesn’t want to freak eddie out, but he’s seen so many visions of them holding hands that his fingers itch with the need to interlace with eddie’s.

when eddie is attacked by demobats, everyone tries to get steve and dustin to leave eddie’s body behind, because clearly eddie is dead. and steve can’t explain to them why he knows that can’t be true, he just stubbornly insists and drags eddie to a hospital as he promises again and again to dustin that eddie is going to make it.

everyone but steve is shocked when the doctors find the barest hint of a pulse.

it’s touch and go at first, but they put eddie in a medically induced coma and he starts to improve. steve is there the whole time. he tells the unconscious eddie about all of the things they still have to do together, about how he knows eddie will live a long, happy life because he’s seen eddie with gray in his hair, laugh lines etched into his face, as they welcome their first grandchild to the world.

and eddie makes it, and when he was up eddie tells steve he heard everything. steve steels himself for denial or disbelief, but eddie tells him that it’s the first thing he’s heard in the past month that actually makes sense.

they share their first kiss right there in the hospital room, and even though steve has seen this moment before, it still takes his breath away.

as he grows older, steve notices more and more of the moments he’s seen in visions as they happen. he happily discovers that there’s so much the visions don’t show, and there’s still so much to see.

because yes, just like he saw all those years ago, he stands behind robin at her wedding, and it’s as moving and special as it always looked. but he also gives max away at her and lucas’s wedding, and he helps dustin propose to suzie, and he helps erica pick out her wedding dress. and, of course, robin stands behind steve at his own wedding.

steve lives a long happy life, with so many memories—seen and unseen—to look forward to.

#ficlet #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #platonic soulmates stobin

[starryeyedjanai]

Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.

The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.

He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.

He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.

He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.

Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.

The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.

He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.

When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).

Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.

Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.

He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.

“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”

Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”

His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.

In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.

“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”

“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.

When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”

Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”

“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”

“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.

There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.

Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”

Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.

“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.

#steddie #stranger things #janai.doc

[sashaforthewin]

Multi-chapter fic on Ao3

Steve had been enjoying a nice relaxing lounge by the pool despite it being night. He had his hearing aid off and his fruity drink and a romance novel Robin had let him borrow. He was determined to have a good time despite the circumstances. 

Someone tapped his foot, scaring the crap out of Steve and making him drop his book and nearly knock over his drink. 

It was a fellow cruise passenger and he was saying something. Steve turned his hearing aid back on.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked why you were out here instead of at the concert,” repeated the man with a smile.

“Oh, um. I’m not actually a fan of metal music. It gives me headaches if I listen to more than one or two songs in a row,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

This stranger was still clearly a metal head, but he looked significantly less scary than most of the ones he had seen so far that day. Everyone Steve met had been nice, but Steve hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone he wasn’t a fan until now. Maybe because it was just the two of them out here and he was smiling so cutely. 

“Not a metal fan? Well damn, not to critique your life choices, but I think maybe going on a metal cruise wasn’t an ideal choice for you? I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

There were plenty of deck lounges around, all empty, but Eddie sat down on Steve’s right next to his legs. 

“Steve. So Steve, why are you on a metal cruise when you don’t like metal? These tickets were not exactly cheap and there’s no way you missed the theme, it was pretty clearly advertised,” Eddie asked teasingly.

Steve looked Eddie over, noting that he was actually pretty cute. Pretty eyes, nice full lips, dimples, and he was that type of lanky Steve was drawn to. He had good skin and his hair had some volume and texture to it, Steve could work with that. Bit of a fixer-upper, but a better starting point than most of the men that had flirted with him since his last failed relationship. He also had the vibe, so Steve decided this guy would be fine to open up to. 

“Well, Eddie, I bought this ticket for my dear friend Dustin for his birthday, but then the little shit went and outed me to my parents. Accidentally, of course, and he feels like shit about it. But still, that got me kicked out of my home so maybe I’m being petty but I decided he shouldn’t get to go on this cruise after all. I forgive him, it really was an accident, but still, gotta teach him a lesson.” Steve shrugged. “And I would’ve gotten the ticket refunded but the money would’ve gone back to my parents and they clearly don’t deserve to get anything back from me. So, instead of trying to figure out how to sell a ticket to a very niche interest cruise, I figured I deserved to just come and treat myself for four days before I have to go back to living in my ex-girlfriend’s basement. It’s actually pretty nice to have the ship to myself while all you guys are in there shaking your heads to loud music.” Steve gestured to the pool and the drink.

“Ex- girl friend’s basement?” Eddie asked.

“Shut up, I’m bi.” Steve smacked Eddie on the arm with his book. 

Eddie grabbed the book and looked at it as he replied, “Hey, just checking to make sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh? Is that what you’re doing, barking up my tree?” Steve said, playfully.

“If you’ll let me,” Eddie flirted back.

“So how come you’re not in the show right now?” Steve asked, gently stealing his book back from Eddie’s grasp.

“Oh, I’m touring with those guys right now, I have heard them play the same set like fifteen times already. I’d much rather be out here getting to chat with you. You know you’re beautiful, right? How come you don’t live with your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?” Eddie asked, quite obvious in his fishing for information.

“I’m single and yes, I do know I’m beautiful, but I still like hearing it. Are you like a roadie or something?”

“Actually,” Eddie said, “I’m the lead guitarist in the headlining band. We play tomorrow night. Can I buy you another drink? Maybe dinner?”

“The, uh, the bill goes to our cabins,” Steve answered, too shocked that an apparently famous musician was asking him out to respond appropriately.

“Baby, I’ll put your entire tab on my cabin if you’ll let me. You are the most beautiful, and dare I say cleanest man on this entire boat. Metal heads are great, but they aren’t really my type.”

Steve takes a sip of his cold drink just to make sure he’s not fallen asleep and dreaming. The ocean is calm and the moon is full and he is most definitely awake.

“And what is your type?” Steve asked. 

“Handsome men with soft hands who will let me pamper them,” Eddie said, picking up Steve’s hand and feeling his lack of calluses. He placed a kiss onto each finger tip. “These hands aren’t meant for labor, let me spoil you rotten.”

Well, Steve reasoned, even if this ended up being just a weekend fling, it was going to be worth the price of admission.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #my fic

[morganbritton132]

Steve is sitting at the table in the kitchen FaceTiming Tommy to help his daughter with her math homework when Eddie brings his live-stream into the room.

“While Isla’s in the bathroom, I’m going to do the same,” Steve says, standing up. He tells them both, “Play nice.”

They do not do that because it’s funnier to keep the rivalry going. The first thing Eddie says when Steve steps out is, “Does it still eat you up inside that I married him?”

Tommy replies easily with, “Are you still jealous that I kissed him first?”

Carol chimes in, “Actually I kissed him first.”

“Doesn’t count,” Tommy and Eddie say at the same time. “There was no tongue.”

“And no declaration of love,” Eddie adds. “Only I got that.”

“Actually…” Robin says, never letting anybody forget. “He confessed he was in love with me and I didn’t have to kiss him.”

#in honor of the Tommy/Eddie/Buckley drama that’s going to go down in tonight’s episode of 911 #here’s some Tommy/Eddie/Buckley drama in this Stranger Things AU #the most fun you can have with your lavender divorce is to remind people that the most eligible man in Hawkins married you first #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson #tommy hagan #robin buckley

[peterthepark]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth

summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.

a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.

It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 

But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.

When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.

That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.

Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 

Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 

“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”

The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”

“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”

“Disgusting.” 

He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”

And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 

Fuck.

A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 

And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”

Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 

And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 

Fuck me, he thinks.

The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 

“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 

Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 

He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 

Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.

In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”

His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”

You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”

“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”

And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 

He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 

Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.

“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”

“Madonna?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”

Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.

But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”

His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.

Eddie sees you again. 

And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 

Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 

Summer has never felt so long. 

Again.

Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 

Again, anyways.

You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.

And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.

He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 

You’re completely devastating. 

You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”

Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”

“Why do I even do that?” 

“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”

“You said…”

“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”

You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”

“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”

He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 

“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”

“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”

And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 

You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.

So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 

“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”

Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 

Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”

You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 

“Only because it made me think of you.”

For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”

His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 

“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”

“No girlfriend.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”

“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”

“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.

Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 

Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.

“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”

Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 

Please.

A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.

And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 

He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.

And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”

You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 

“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”

“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”

Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”

Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”

“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.

This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 

And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 

Just like heaven.

“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”

He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”

“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”

“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”

Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”

Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”

“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”

Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”

“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”

He’s earned it. 

“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.

Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”

Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”

“Christ, please.”

And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 

He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.

Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.

He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.

“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”

Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.

You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 

Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.

“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 

“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”

“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”

Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 

You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 

For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.

“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”

You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 

Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.

He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”

“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”

“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.

He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.

You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”

“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep ��� keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”

“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”

“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”

And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.

“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 

You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 

Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”

You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”

“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”

“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”

“Please, s’too hard.”

“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”

“No.”

You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 

You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  

“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”

You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 

“You’re s-so big.”

Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”

“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”

“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”

Fucking hell.

You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.

How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 

He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!

He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”

“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”

“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”

“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”

“Suits you better.”

You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 

“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”

“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”

I adore you.

I adore you.

You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.

You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 

He’s milked. Spent. 

Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.

It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.

My good boy, you think. 

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 

“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”

Oh. It’s a joke. 

And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

“Barely.”

“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”

“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”

“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”

Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 

“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”

A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.

You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 

He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 

Fucker.

“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”

You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”

“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”

He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.

Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 

Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 

And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 

So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 

God forbid they have coyotes, right? 

But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.

Even though, the album is growing on him.

He’ll never admit that, though.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things season 4

[sp0o0kylights]

Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting. 

It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read. 

He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover. 

They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word. 

(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.) 

Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school. 

Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington. 

Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college. 

Steve knows Eddie’s gay. 

Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.

He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real. 

It's flash. Showmanship. 

It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him. 

So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?

 Eddie panics. 

His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him. 

He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him. 

Not when it comes to running, anyway. 

Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor. 

The urge is still there. 

To run, and save face the cowards way. 

Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again. 

(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)

A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway. 

One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…

Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has  bat-like, vicious animals on it. 

Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with! 

Steve looks up from the zine and startles. 

For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard. 

It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie. 

He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest,  and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.

“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is. 

They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.  

“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?” 

Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands. 

“Oh!”

Steve holds it up, as if to show it off. 

“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.” 

Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting. 

“You know what Star Trek is?”

“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?” 

 He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.

 “This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”

Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension. 

He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it. 

Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?

Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine. 

“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.” 

He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is. 

“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks. 

“Mmm.” 

“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…” 

Steve's frowning at him again. “What?” 

“It's queer man. It's really queer.” 

Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows. 

“I know. Wait, how do you--” 

And well. It’s now or never. 

“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.

“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?

(It does not.)

“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.” 

Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.

Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in. 

Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--) 

There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.

 It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air.  Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again. 

They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.

This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name. 

‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’  but--

Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face. 

Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened. 

He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief. 

Steve looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!” 

“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope. 

He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right. 

Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope. 

“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!” 

“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.

Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face. 

“So...Kirk and Spock huh?” 

“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table. 

The zine he keeps in his hands. 

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?” 

“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!” 

Which is news to Eddie. 

“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart. 

Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction. 

“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,” 

Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s  that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?” 

“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!” 

“You did! Robin told you!” 

“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”  

“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”  

“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.” 

They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.) 

“You really like it though?”  Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand. 

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke. 

“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?” 

Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip. 

“That’d be cool.” 

(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?” 

“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.” 

“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.” 

“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.” 

“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.

Oh.

Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day. 

At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.) 

#steddie #pre steddie #eddie reads star trek slash fiction #kirk/spock #mentioned anyway lol #Steve Harringtons Terrible Fucking Eyesight #(me too buddy me too) #steve harrington #eddie munson #zines #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

[lovebugism]

"we’re arguing when the ball drops on new year’s eve, and decide to kiss and shit i don’t think i hate you anymore"

with eddie and grumpy!r pls

ty for requesting! :D — your new years kiss ends up being the loudmouth, metalhead, wild-haired boy you can't stand (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Another year passes in a blink, and suddenly everyone around you is chanting “new year, new me” like it’s not just some overdone mantra destined to be forgotten by mid-February. 

It’s not surprising that you and Eddie are the only two not participating in the holiday theatrics. It’s also not surprising that the two of you are spending the entirety Steve’s New Years party bickering like a married couple on the couch.

You both got dragged here — you by Robin, and him by Dustin — and the two of you are acting like total grumps about it accordingly. And even though you can’t stand being in the same room as each other, you’ve been shoulder-to-shoulder in the living room all night.

You’re sitting pretty in a black dress beside him, scowling like a storm cloud while Eddie scoops a handful of pretzels in his mouth. Seemingly noticing your side-eyed glare, he starts to chew more audibly because he knows how much you hate it. The slow and rhythmic smack smack smack makes the chatter around you sound more distant as your skin begins to crawl.

Eddie smiles when you tense — wider when you glare at him.

“Sometimes I wonder why I hate you, and then you do stuff like that, and I think to myself, “oh yeah, that’s why.”

He grins with all his teeth, pretzels crumbs and all. “The feeling’s mutual, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you grumble with a roll of your eyes.

You shake your crossed leg to the music playing softly overhead and try to focus on the television in front of you. The staticky film of Times Square isn’t quite as distracting as the boy beside you — and not just because he’s purposefully trying to annoy you. 

He has no right to be this pretty, with his wild hair and black button-up and smudged eyeliner. It’s hardly fair.

“Don’t act like one, and I won’t,” he retorts, muffled through the food in his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s disgusting.”

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you the widest smile he’s ever looked at you with. The bits of chewed-up pretzel in his teeth make you grimace.

“You’re a child,” you deadpan.

Eddie laughs — a pretty little sound in a scoffed-out breath. 

He sits the half-empty bowl on the coffee table, then pushes his sleeves to his elbows. His arms are pale, lanky, and tattooed. Some of the ink is faded and messy, obviously not done by professionals. You think those intrigue you the most. You’d ask about the stories behind them if you even cared.

Eddie rests his elbows on his knees and looks at you over his shoulder. His smile is pink and made of honey — his eyes dark and made of fire. 

“You can act like you hate me all you want, but everyone here knows you’re obsessed with me,” he teases with a scrunched nose, motioning to the room with his pointer finger. 

No one’s paying either of you any mind. They’re too focused on their own conversations to care about the ones you and Eddie have had a thousand times over. You try to act as disinterested as they do. You think you’re playing the part pretty well, honestly, but Eddie’s looking at you with a twinkle in his eye like he can see right through it.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Munson.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” he huffs and leans back again, spreading his arms across the back of the couch. 

The sudden proximity isn’t lost in you. Neither is the smell of nicotine and sandalwood radiating off of him. It stirs a velvety feeling in the pit of your stomach that you try hopelessly to shove down.

“You must be completely and utterly blind, then.”

“Uh-uh,” he hums with a shake of his wild head. “Twenty-twenty vision, baby.” He leans in close to croon the words in your ear, and your heart lurches into your throat. You shove him off with a half-hearted hand anyway. 

“Get off me!” you groan, face scrunched in a childlike annoyance. “And don’t call me baby.”

Eddie settles back beside you with a subtle pout between his brows. “If I can’t call you princess and I can’t call you baby, then what am I supposed to call you?”

“Nothing!” you shout, like being called baby hadn’t stirred something foreignly pleasant behind your ribcage. “Don’t call me anything! Don’t call me at all—”

“Guys! Come here! The ball’s about to drop!” Dustin shouts over the chatter to get everyone’s attention, a bit too loudly. He stands in front of the television along with the rest of the small crowd, ogling at the bad reception of the Times Square Ball and a flashing countdown.

“Sounds like me in middle school,” Eddie jokes, making Steve snort out a laugh when he walks in from the kitchen. You shoot the wild-haired boy a squinted look of disgust and he chuckles. “Oh, c’mon! That was funny, and you know it.”

“Ten!” the crowd begins to chorus.

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble.

“And you’re the one who’s obsessed with the idiot, so… Who’s the real weirdo?”

“Nine!”

“Still you.”

“Ooh,” Eddie lilts, plush lips softly pouted. “So you are obsessed with me?”

“Eight!”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “You love putting words in my mouth, don’t you?”

“Like I said,” the boy hums with a smug smile. “Just calling it like I see it, honey.”

“Seven!”

The dumb name shouldn’t make you melt like it does. You turn into a puddle before you can come up with another comeback. You forget how to form words and get lost in how soft his lips look, pink and delicate like a flower. God, he’s so pretty, you hate him.

“Six!” your friends continue to chant, the only sound in the expansive living room. “Five!”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, honestly,” the boy assures with an absentminded shrug, tilting his flushed cheek to his shoulder and flashing you an unkissed grin.

“Four!”

“You’re not the first girl to fall head over heels for me, and you won’t be the last.”

The corner of your lip curls into a quiet smirk. You squint at him, eyes twinkling with mischief and a sudden longing for him to eat his words. “Is that so?” you croon lowly.

“Three!”

He leans in like he’s about to tell you a secret. The nicotine-whiskey concoction on his breath brushes your cheek. Screw the alcohol in your abandoned cup — you’d sooner get drunk on him. 

“I’ll make sure to let you down easy, alright? I promise,” Eddie hums with a feigned seriousness.

“Yeah?”

“Two!”

He nods, bushy brows pinching softly together and petaled mouth gently pouting. “Yeah. I’m not in the heartbreaking business, you know? I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, princess, but you should there’s no way in hell that I’m ever gonna—”

“One!” the house chants together, louder this time as they shout, “Happy New Year!”

You blink, and suddenly everyone’s grabbing onto somebody. 

Robin and Vickie share a quiet peck you don’t miss in the corner of the room. Mike and El smack a more obvious kiss in the very center of it. A newly grown-up Dustin tries his chances with Nancy, glancing at her with a silent smile she shakes her head at — “Not a chance, kiddo,” she says with a soft pink grin. Even Max leans over to brush a kiss to Lucas’ cheek, right before scowling at him, “This doesn’t mean we’re back together, Sinclair.” 

So you feel it’s only right, that in a room of kissed mouths, you get kissed, too.

Eddie is the perfect victim. Mostly because he hasn’t stopped yapping since he sat down beside you, some hours ago now. You reach for him, splaying your hand across his warm jaw (that grows somehow hotter beneath your touch), and pressing a kiss to his blabbering mouth. 

You swallow all the half-hearted insults he spews at you because he thinks you really hate him. In Eddie’s mind, if being mean is how he gets closer to you, then when you go low, he’ll go all the way to hell. 

You don’t kiss him like you hate him, though. You kiss him like you can taste stars in his mouth. Like the rest of your whole life is sitting on his tongue.

Your mouth locks with his for a moment, kissing the breath from his lungs, only to pull away a second later.

Eddie’s totally frozen when you’re gone. The loudmouth boy — who you decided to hate if you couldn’t love — is left so suddenly speechless. He blinks at you with heavy, velvet eyes and grieves a thing he didn’t even know he could have.

A grin pulls at your freshly kissed mouth. It feels good to have the upper hand again.

“You’re never gonna what?” you tease, tilting your head like you’re innocent.

His mouth parts for an answer. Nothing comes out.

Your smile widens. “That’s what I thought. Honey.”

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

[paperbackribs]

transmasc Steve with weirdly supportive parents at the beginning, they pay for t-shots, an overhaul of his wardrobe, and (later) top surgery, and the family moves to Hawkins so Steve has a new school and a chance to be him without the weight of how he hadn't fit in before

but it becomes this thing, this burden with weight and expectations. because Richard Harrington, he'd always wanted a boy, a man to take over the business, a prodigal son

so it's like a cursed monkey paw at home: have to be a boy in a certain way, date the right sort of people, and definitely only date girls

and Steve's mixed up because he's grateful, he is, but when does he get to live as himself and not an extension of the Harrington's? does he even deserve to for all that they've done for him?

and so he becomes a bit of an asshole, absorbed in presenting in The Right Way, which means being an aggressive asshole, right?

sports, cars, girlfriends.

right?

then the Upside Down happens and happens again, and Steve learns that there are more important and scarier things than Richard Harrington and his expectations

it's not easy and it's not quick, but Steve gets a new family of kids in his back pocket, and a platonic soulmate on his shoulder. he finds that he can paint his nails with Robin and still be a boy, he can care and cook for Max while she's having a hard time after Billy and still be masculine, he can fall in love with Eddie Munson and still be a man

Steve is more than what Richard Harrington would make of him

#the irony of Steve becoming known as a ladies man when he's tech a virgin because he loves going down on girls but it also keeps his secret #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #transmasc steve harrington