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persieee-yoohoo · 2 years

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The Witching Hour (Eddie Munson x Gen!Reader)

Pt.1

AN: this is my first fanfic. it’ll be kinda slow at first, sorry about that!

Disclaimers/Warnings: Swearing? Steve Harrington serving looks in a wedding dress? Pre-S4 events?

Summary: A confrontation on Halloween night circa 1985 makes you finally acknowledge what it is about Eddie Munson that keeps you so enamored. Maybe it’s the disguise of your costume or the spiked punch that makes you brave, but neither of you are saying goodbye for the night without some sort of heated exchange.

“I feel ridiculous. Do I look ridiculous?” Steve fidgeted in front of the floor-length mirror fastened to the back of your bedroom door, doing an awkward 360-turn to check all of his angles. The height of the mirror hadn’t been originally hung with the male’s towering height in mind, so Steve was contorting his body to make sure he saw both his done-up hair and his accentuated ass. “Won’t people think it’s weird I’m wearing a wedding dress? I mean, who’s really going to recognize me as Marion? At least you have the hat and the whip.”

The pair of you had decided to go to some big Halloween party in Hawkins, or at least Steve had begged and you had begrudgingly agreed with the understanding that you got to choose the costumes with absolutely no objections. Hence, the white wedding dress with puffy sleeves that matched Marion’s iconic Lost Ark outfit that Steve was surprisingly pulling off.

“You’d look better if you stopped worrying too much. Really, you look great and you’ll be recognizable as long as we stick together. No running off this time Harrington, I mean it.” You gave him a final glance over, making sure nothing else needed to be teased or altered. Upon deciding that he was perfect, you nudged him with your hip and took his spot in front of your mirror. Your own costume was nearly just as perfect, except for the absence of your hat and whip. Both were staple accessories of Indiana Jones, but not ones you were going to adorn until you got to the party.

“When is Robin coming to get her costume?” Your eyes focused on the discarded costume that was visible in the mirror’s reflection, waiting to be fitted and altered just like Steve’s had before he came over. To complete the group’s look, you had come up with the idea of making Robin the big tumbling rock from the beginning scene of the 1981 film. Robin didn’t have any objects to the idea, especially since none of her band friends would be there to witness any foreseeable embarrassment and she was just accompanying you both to drink.

“Oh-uh..” Steve, still focusing on his appearance in the sliver of mirror space he had left, gave a half-hearted reply to your inquiry. “We’re picking her up. She’s still at school or something for band.”

You should have known, especially since Robin had talked your ear off at lunch about Vickie. Maybe you would’ve remembered that obvious fact if you also hadn’t spent a chunk of lunch watching one of Eddie Munson’s animated spiels around the lunchroom. The walking on tables and exaggerated movements never ceased to capture your attention, and that day was no different. Robin would have been better off talking to a wall while you ate up the sight of the school’s freak with the rest of Hellfire club.

It’s not like you were into the super-senior, you just gave into the spectacle that he spent his days at the school performing. His actions always garnered the attention of others, and you didn’t put up much of an effort to ignore him. Eddie Munson was just someone that you liked to watch, secretly or obviously. Unbeknownst to you, however, Eddie knew of your observation and relished in the attention of your dazzling eyes.

“Let’s go get our boulder then, shall we?”

"Ow! You pricked me, Y/N!” Robin yelped and jumped away from you as you both stood in the parking lot of Hawkins High. Since Robin hadn’t made it to your house for alterations, you brought your travel kit with you to make do. You figured you’d just make any adjustments once the three of you made it to the party, but Steve vetoed that immediately. He said it would’ve been “un-cool” to pull out a sewing kit at a high school party.

You weren’t the most popular, really only getting mixed up with Steve’s reputation due to long-standing family friendships, but you listened to him anyways. After all, he was showing up in a wedding dress, so you could keep your sewing kit to yourself for a few hours.

“Stop moving then! Rob, you’re worse than Steve. I’m almost done.” As you pulled Robin back to you , you huffed and went back in with the safety pins to shorten the straps holding up the paper mache boulder. “Steve, no one is here. You can get out of the car, you know?”

“No way! I know for a fact that Dustin’s stupid little group is meeting right now. I don’t need that butthead seeing me like this. He’d have a field day, Y/N.” Steve scoffed and stayed right where he was in the car. He kept the engine going, allowing some music to filter out of the open windows, and kept impatiently giving you reminders to get a move on. There was only so much of a grace period that arriving late actually seemed cool and not pretentious.

With one last adjustment, you closed your travel kit and threw it through the back car window. You carefully got Robin out of the boulder costume so she could ride in the car comfortably and placed it on the seat next to her. Rounding the car to make your way to the passenger side, you’re all nearly in the clear when the side doors to the school slam open with loud hoots and yells bellowing out.

“Shit! Y/N, get in the car! We—” “Steve! STEVE!” “Dammit.”

You were nearly convinced that Steve would leave you there for not being fast enough, and you thought you saw his hand hesitate over the gear shift, but he ultimately decided against that particular intrusive thought. Instead, Steve prepared himself for the Henderson Attack and you gave him an apologetic smile. You mouth a quick ‘sorry’ to him, but quickly move on from him to seek out a familiar face.

Dustin rushed the car, slamming his hands down on the hood as if to further deter the glorified babysitter from leaving. It took everything in you to not laugh, and you nearly did when your eyes settled upon Eddie’s snickering form. The wild-haired dungeon master stayed a few feet back from the car. He was closer to his van than Steve’s car, but he still didn’t ditch the younger group members.

You watched him, just like you did in the lunch room, and prayed he didn’t look back at you while you were in a silly Halloween costume. Eddie’s aesthetic of flashy rings and leather jackets trumped your knock-off Indiana Jones ten times over. Sure, he had just come from playing a heated fantasy game with a bunch of underclassman, but he still exuded an untouchable vibe.

“Woah—Y/N! Is that a whip?” Dustin’s loud mouth and lack of filter dragged your focus back to the car, where your whip and hat were both set on display on top of the dashboard. Steve had to swat away Dustin’s hand from reaching in through his driver-side window and you quickly got in the car to take the accessories into the safety of your arms. “Where did you get a whip?”

“They’re vital to the costume.” You consider putting the hat on to give a better glimpse of who you’re impersonating, but think better of it when you feel the eyes of everyone, including Eddie, staring at you through Steve’s open window. The warmth of your blushing cheeks is not lost on you, or Steve, and you tap the watch on your wrist. “Time to go, Steve!”

You don’t really know what Steve said or did for Dustin to safely step away from the car, but you felt the car lurch forward as Steve promptly began driving. The brunet had asked you the same question when you first showed him the prop weapon, but you’d just been vague. You didn’t want to give your best friend the satisfaction of a vanilla answer, even if the truth was as simple as a cheap find from the shop. Giving him a non-answer kept him guessing, which was payback enough for all the stuff he’d put you through when he whined and groaned about his failed rendezvous.

“Did any of us consider bringing a camera to immortalize the day Y/N L/N got Steve Harrington in a wedding dress?” As Robin spoke up from the backseat, you pivoted in the passenger seat to meet her stare. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out as your gaze landed on the lone figure that leaned against his clanky van. Eddie wasn’t joking around with the other members of Hellfire as they waited for their own rides, he was just looking after Steve’s car as it sped out of the parking lot.

In a moment of complete stupidity, you raised your hand and waved. Whether Eddie saw your movements through the back window or not, you didn’t stick around to see. Instead, you turned back around in your seat to look straight ahead, completely missing the way the freak of Hawkins High had raised his hand to return the gesture.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things season 4 #robin buckley #dustin henderson #will draw Steve and robin later #halloween

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suicidalkendall · 2 years

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I’ve never seen two people share a resume before…

Well, we thought we’d save paper. You know, go green.

#this iasip scene is literally them i just had to draw them #and i will be drawing even more of it later #stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things season 4 #my art #stranger things art

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

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Trailer Park Steve AU part 3

part 1 | part 2

(tw: guns, accidental death)

Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”

“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”

“Steve!”

Steve starts to drive.

Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.

“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”

“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”

“You what???”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”

“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”

He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Huh?”

“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”

“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”

Ah, there it is.

Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”

“—Don’t talk about—”

“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”

“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”

“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”

She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Steve eases his foot onto the brake.

“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”

The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”

—

He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.

God.

Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.

Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”

“Love you, dingus.”

And then he’s alone again.

With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.

If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?

Not much.

Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.

It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.

Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.

Some fucking grand prize.

The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.

Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.

The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.

Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.

His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.

He didn’t walk away that night.

Didn’t even face death standing.

Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.

They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.

Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.

The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.

So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.

You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.

He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.

He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.

Kill yourself, dad.

Oh, wait.

You already did.

—

part 4

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic #tw: guns #tw: death

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moonriverrise · 1 year

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Steve has a secret, well “secret” may not be the correct way to describe it. He has something for himself, thats what. Ever since he stopped playing basketball and doing swim competitions once he graduated he's had way more free time, which at first he filled with shifts at Family Video, or bothering Robin.

Then, when she started school he started doing art more. Which, may come a surprise to many, as he never really talked about his interest in paintings and old art.

Greek sculptures that are able to show life in a still ethereal way, while still being able to twist it at their will. Renaissance oil paintings, capturing tragedy yet still being able to portray it as beautiful, in their own terrible twisted ways.

He likes sketching on paper, painting on canvas. His paintings aren't usually too different from the things he sees around him. Honestly thats the only things he paints, people, his friends, places he goes, things he sees that stick with him, dreams, moments that play on repeat in his head.

Around his Junior year, after the Demogorgon, Steve had turned the sad basement in his sad empty house, into his own space. A place where he can go and do his art, hang it, play music on his walkman, or using the record player he got from a pawn shop a few months prior. Somehow the basement is the only space that actually feels like his in his house, not even his bedroom.

Steve’s art was not very consistent to be honest, mostly the kids and Robin, landscapes that he liked, the Demogorgon/dogs, the Mindflayer (he needs some way of getting those out of his head, and somehow drawing them down feels freeing.) He does have a few paintings of Nancy from when they were together, she’s become less of a model for his work after everything though.

The last time he painted her in a painting alone, was one of that bathroom in a girl he barely knows’ house, a spilled drink on Nancy’s dress, and red solo cups littering the counter.

Steve’s art shifts though, after a moment that will never leave his mind. He knows who Eddie Munson is, obviously. How could he not? Honestly Steve isn't that surprised Henderson and the others befriended the guy, he does run a DnD club.

But then, Henderson needs a ride home after their club meetings because his mom is working late, and then Lucas and Mike’s parents are also asking Steve to pick them up too. Babysitting duty, as per usual.

Steve arrives a bit earlier than he planned. He didn't have any project to consume himself into, hitting an art block begrudgingly. But then, Steve sees Eddie Munson, sitting on a fake throne, watching the kids and other club members argue, he has his chin rested on his fist, and he's wearing a white tank top, showing off his shoulders, given the fact it’s still September.

The lighting of the small theater room captures Steve’s interest like a moth to the flame, and he is regretting having left his sketchbook at home, even though he never draws around the kids or anyone he knows.

Eddie Munson’s face and curly locks fill up the pages of Steve’s journal and some canvases for months after, and Steve rarely genuinely complains about coming to pick the kids up.

Afterwords, months later from that day. Chrissy Cunningham dies, and Eddie Munson almost goes with her. God, or whatever deity that was looking down upon him, was on Steve’s side in that moment, when he was able to revive Eddie and then drag him out of the Upside Down.

Steve gets closer with Eddie after that, they become actual friends. Steve was so used to witnessing his muse from afar, it was so…exciting, to see Eddie in all his glory, just a few feet away, and his smile being directed at him.

“Do you even have any hobbies, Harrington?” Steve blinks. Him, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and the party, are all hanging out by the pool. Steve is lounging on one of the chairs, sunglasses over his eyes as Eddie talks beside him.

“What?” Steve responds.

“I mean…I like barely ever see you do anything besides sort Movies at Family Video, or boss around the kids. Like, what do you do when we're not all together?” Eddie asks, moving his hand a little as he talks. Steve thinks for a moment.

“Funny,” Steve answers instead. Eddie scoffs.

“I'm being serious, man! What do you do?” Eddie laughs a little, most likely at the ridiculousness of it all. What would Steve know, Eddie is like a puzzle, and Steve has to take every minute slowly, deciphering everything he lays out for him, via tongue or action.

“I don't know, what do you do?” Steve says, almost carefully.

“Band stuff, DnD, Writing,” Eddie lists. “And I guess saving the world now, but thats a bit of a side hussle.” Steve scoffs.

“Whatever, man.” And thats that, they don't talk about it again. But it sticks with Steve, because his friends really do think he doesn't do anything with his life. It's not like he has college classes to study for, so what does he do?

Later, maybe two or three weeks after, Steve decides he wants to show Eddie his space. The two of them are alone, Robin is in Nevada, visiting her grandparents, so the trio’s usual movie night is cut down to a duo’s movie night.

Although Steve finds himself mostly focusing on Eddie and his beautiful hair sitting next to him, than watching ET. The little alien scares him a bit anyway. Eddie notices him staring though, his eyes flickering to meet Steves, then a smirk spreading across his lips.

“We are watching a movie, lover boy.” Eddie says. Steve goes red, his gaze shifting to his lap. Steve furrows his eyebrows then stands and shuts the TV off. “Woah! Hey!”

“I want to show you something.” Steve says, it's a bit quieter than he meant it to be, but his tone indicates something to Eddie, which has him staring at Steve, starstruck.

Steve walks out the room and hears Eddie follow him. He gets to the basement door and opens it, flicks on the stair light.

“Basement- woah- okay, guess I'm getting murdered. Thought I’d go out in a more metal way than this.” Eddie says as they walk down. Steve laughs a little and shakes his head.

“I just think you should see this.” Steve says. “Nothing life threatening, I promise.”

“Alright, I trust you, Stevie.”

“Good.”

Steve turns and flicks on the light as they step onto the concrete. The lights flicker on, revealing the paintings on the walls and art supplies on the tables and counters.

“Woah-” Eddie says. “Is this, all your stuff?” Steve sighs, he folds his arms and faces Eddie. He looks shellshocked.

“Yeah.” Steve says. “You said I don't have any hobbies, I do, actually.” Eddie looks around, walking slowly.

“Is that Henderson? Why is he wearing yellow gloves?” Eddie asks. Steve walks over to a painting of Dustin from Steve’s angle while they were walking on the train tracks, a bucket of raw meat is in one hand and he's wearing the headphones for his radio.

“D’Art,” Steve says. “That was when we were leading him away. I made that one after everything happened. I was trying not to think about the Demogorgon stuff and everything, so I just drew him. I have one of Max from that day I never finished painting in a stack I think too.” Eddie doesn't say anything for a minute after Steve is done explaining.

“You can paint.” Eddie says, though not like a question. “These are beautiful…” Eddie looks around and walks to another one he sees. It's one of the Byers and Hopper’s, all hugging while laughing. El looks the happiest. Steve had painted that after they had all gotten together after everything. “Why…didn't you tell anyone?”

“About what?” Steve asks, folding his arms as Eddie brings up a hand to touch the painting.

“This- Steve, you're amazing at this. These are…” Eddie trails off as something catches his eye, he slowly starts to walk towards a big painting propped up behind one of the tables laid out in the middle of the room. Steve walks to him to see which one he's looking at.

An angel, knelt over a puddle, crying as it stares at his reflection, which is blurred and dark. He stands in a forest, his wings are long and huge, sprawling out above him.

It’s one of Steve’s bigger ones, the inspiration came from a dream he had after they had read about Icarus in his english class back in Highschool.

“It’s… magnificent.” Eddie whispers. Steve smiles gently at Eddie’s reaction. Eddie backs up a bit and looks away from the painting. “Is that me?” Steve follows his eye, to the painting. Eddie walks towards it, Steve stays behind him. It’s the first one Steve ever made of Eddie, the one of him on the throne.

“Yeah, it is.” Steve says. “I made that the first night I came to pick up the kids.” He says. “The first time I met you, actually met you.” They share a look.

“You are incredible, Steve Harrington.”

#this was way longer than i meant it to be #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steddie ficlet #sock meister drabbles #hope yall liked this cuz it got kinda stuck in my head after i had a whole class on art and the renaissance so

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starkidmunson · 3 months

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glitter & crimson (it has a title y'all!)

Nervous excitement has Steve out of his bed 25 minutes before his alarm goes off to wake him. It’s not unusual on game days. He gathers ingredients in the kitchen until he hears Robin’s alarm, and then he starts making both their breakfast smoothies.

She fumbles down the hallway a few moments later with her eyes still closed, takes the cup from him, and sits in the middle of their living room floor.

“Pilates today? Or did you get a workout in at the show last night?” She asks after a few sips, and Steve joins her near their mats.

“It’s a tradition, can’t go changing shit now.” He teases, laughing as she throws her head back with a tired groan. Then she’s hauling herself to her bedroom to grab a hoodie.

They exercise on the balcony, like always, but keep it light. Steve tries to get plenty of stretching in on game days, making sure he’s loose and limber before he hits the ice. After about 30 minutes, Robin’s teeth are chattering in the cool morning air, so he calls it, and they head back inside. He gathers his gear while Robin showers, and then they make their way to United.

Steve heads to the locker room to gear up, manages to finish a whole bottle of water before he hits the rink. He takes a few slow laps around the rink as the rest of the team starts to roll in, runs through a few drills on his own before team practice starts.

They keep things minimal on game days; sprints and passes, shots on goal. Steve does a final lap backwards around the rink, before clearing off to the locker room to finish putting on his uniform while the other team takes the ice for their own practice.

As he refills his water bottle, he gets whacked in the shin with the body of a hockey stick. He watches it happen, feels an echo of the impact on his shin guard, before turning to raise an eyebrow at Max.

“Hello to you, too.” He says through a little smile. She rolls her eyes, but smiles back at him.

“They’re here.” She says, in an ominous tone, despite her smile. “You guys seemed to hit it off last night, I’m glad you didn’t scare him away with your weirdness.”

“I’m not weird, you guys are weird.” He mumbles back, kicking the stick from her hand but catching it before it hits the ground. “Last night was fun. I just hope he doesn’t hate the game as much as I think he’s going to.”

“Awfully concerned about him having a good time.” She leans in closer to him to tease, and while he feels his ears get hot, he shoves the hockey stick back into her arms and walks back toward his locker. “Dustin is working in the AV booth tonight, so be prepared for a lot of Eddie on the big screen.”

“You overestimate how much attention I pay to the overhead.” He replies, rolling his eyes and taking a big gulp of water.

He hadn’t exactly considered the consequences of Eddie actually coming to the game. He was bound to draw a lot of attention, but what would that turn into? Steve had, smartly, elected to stay off the internet after he’d gotten home last night, and he hadn’t bothered to check social media before coming in. He was sure there were pictures and videos of him at the show floating around, insinuating things beyond what they actually meant. He was just as sure that there was at least one person who had taken to their feeds to report that Eddie and Steve had hung out after the show; never mind the fact that everyone else was there. Never mind the fact that they weren’t alone.

Except they had spent most of the night alone. Other than a few interruptions, their time at Fatpour had mostly consisted of Eddie and Steve sitting at a high-top table close to the bar, munching on snacks and talking about everything and nothing and whatever crossed their minds. Eddie insisted he was going to make a playlist for Steve, and Steve offered to teach Eddie how to ice skate. And it felt… nice. It had been a while since Steve had that with anyone.

Max just moves on, reminding Steve of which stretches he needs to do now that he’s in his gear, and the coach and captain both give speeches in the locker room, before everyone moves out to the rink. They take the ice as the announcer reads off their name, and Steve taps his stick with the right wing who stakes up next to him.

He glances around, chewing on his mouth guard absently. A part of him knows that Robin and Eddie and whoever else from CC made the trip to the game are in one of the boxes around the upper level of the area, but he hadn’t asked which one when he had briefly texted with Eddie this morning, and now it was too late. But, he figures it’s probably for the best. Not knowing where to look keeps him from running the risk of sparking more speculation about nothing.

______

Even having heeded Steve’s warning to wear layers to the game, Eddie is freezing. He’s wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt under a hoodie under a leather jacket, but he’s still cold. And Robin is bouncing around the box suite in a t-shirt and ripped jeans, looking perfectly comfortable and Eddie doesn’t get it. He zips his leather jacket all the way up and sinks into his seat, bobbing his head along to the music echoing through the arena.

“You’re going to be cold when we’re leaving if you don’t take something off.” Robin chastises, and Eddie just rolls his eyes. Jeff, Freak and Lucas are chatting, sitting in the seats just outside of the box. Inside the box, Gareth looks just as cold as Eddie, chatting with Nancy and Will on a sofa.

Paige returns a few minutes later with a bag of merchandise, courtesy of a voucher from the team, and drops it on Gareth’s lap. “Hoodie for you,” She declares, pulling out a black hoodie with the Blackhawks logo and throwing it into Gareth’s face. “Hoodie for you,” She adds, tossing a red one in Eddie’s direction. She pulls two more thinner zip ups out of the bag and drops them on Jeff and Freak’s heads. When she comes back in, she locks eyes with Eddie, who pauses as he unzips his leather jacket.

“What?” He asks, cautiously, and she grins.

“Got something else for you,” She says, and he’s instantly concerned.

“You’re freaking me out.” Eddie points out as he slips the hoodie he’d worn over his head and replaces it with the fleece-lined red hoodie with “Blackhawks” written across the back shoulders. Robin claps and jumps up and down beside him, concerning him further.

“They put one aside!?” She asks, and Paige nods, before tossing the rest of the bag to Eddie.

When he pulls out the contents, he can’t help but let out a little laugh. “You guys asked them to give me a Harrington jersey?” He raises an eyebrow at Robin, before pulling it over his head. It fits a little loose over the hoodie, but looks similar to how he’d seen other people wear theirs.

“Steve doesn’t know, but I asked. Figured you might like it.” She says, grinning as he turns a light shade of pink he fully intends to blame on the cold.

When the team introductions start, Robin drags Eddie out into the seats just outside the box, so they have a better view. While it’s colder out there, Eddie’s warmer in the new tops, and finds he doesn’t mind it as much.

Robin and the members of the Party in the box break into cheers when Steve skates out onto the ice, and Eddie can’t help the little smile that crosses his face as he watches Steve interact with his team.

The puck drops and Steve manages to slip it away from the Kraken’s center, gliding down the ice effortlessly before passing it off. It’s a tiny thing, trying to pay attention to the puck, so Eddie finds himself just tracking Steve as he zips and twists around. After a few minutes, Steve skates back to the Blackhawks box and jumps in as another player hits the ice.

“What happened? Is he hurt?” Eddie’s confused as he looks at Robin, who gives him a soft smile.

“He’s fine. They only play for so long, before they switch out to keep them from getting tired.”

He tries to pay attention to what’s happening then, with Steve off the ice, but finds himself watching the other sit along the bench. He bangs his stick against the wall a few times, shouting things Eddie can’t hear. When he gets up to go back into the game, he pats the player he’s replacing on the back before hitting the ice.

The next chance he gets the puck, he takes a shot toward the goalie, who stops the puck between his legs. Steve keeps skating, zipping around and getting back into the action. He gets the puck back, but is quickly checked by two Krakens who send him into the boards hard. Eddie grimaces, and a penalty is called on both Krakens for charging.

Steve scores a goal in the second period, and Eddie joins the Party in cheering along. He spots himself on the big screen and grabs Robin, pulling her into frame as she jumps up and down.

The celebrations die down a little, and Robin scooches closer to him. “I can have them knock it off, if you don’t want to be up there. Dustin’s in the booth right now.” She offers, and he shrugs.

“I don’t mind. I kind of expected it, after the TikTok blew up.” He shrugs, tracking Steve back around the ice.

Blackhawks end up winning the game, 5-2, and while Steve doesn’t score again, he assists in each of the following goals. Each time, he has a different celebration with whoever he set up for the goal, and it’s sweet to watch Steve goof off, to hear his friends' excitement as he succeeds. Walking back out of the booth, Eddie feels like his voice is more raw from screaming at the hockey game than it was from last night’s concert.

_____________

“You shouldn’t skip the ice bath, Steve, you took a hard hit into that wall.” Max is lecturing as they move through the arena to where she says everyone is waiting.

“I’m fine, I’ve taken worse hits and I stretched plenty. My shoulder just dug into the pad wrong. I’ll have a bruise, but it’s fine.” He insists, holding the door open for her then following her into the box where chaos immediately erupts.

Mike and Lucas are bouncing around, gushing about how great he played. Steve laughs, squeezing Lucas’ shoulder and ruffling Mike’s hair, before his eyes land on the band. They’re all wearing fresh Blackhawks gear, and Steve can’t help but grin.

“Oh man, I’m so glad you guys were able to come! Did you have a good time?” He asks, moving closer to them.

“Dude, I fucking love hockey. I haven’t been to a game in forever, this was sick. And you were killing it out there. I think I like hockey even more knowing someone who is playing.” Freak says, and Gareth nods along.

“Hockey is the only sport I’d ever really been interested in, so this was fun! Great game.”

“I have never had an interest in hockey before, but it was still cool to learn about.” Jeff admits, and then Steve turns to Eddie. His hands are tucked up inside the sleeves of the jersey, nestled in the front pocket of the hoodie beneath, but he grins.

“I concede, it was a lot more fun than I anticipated. I think it helps that you were awesome out there.”

Steve turns a soft shade of pink, shaking his head before nodding back toward the door out of the box. “Want to grab dinner with us? I’m starving.”

______________

They’re in some bar Steve texted the directions to but Eddie can’t remember the name, when he catches Steve staring at him from his spot between Dustin and Lucas. Eddie raises an eyebrow and waves a little, which seems to snap Steve out of it. He blushes and waves back, before covering his face with his hands. Eddie snorts, before getting up and moving so he’s sitting across from Steve.

“You weren’t mad that I put you up on the big screen, right? I think the team actually put it up on socials at some point, so I hope you didn’t mind.” Dustin rambles at Eddie as soon as he sits, but he’s quick to ease the kid’s concerns.

“It was fun. Don’t worry about it, kid. Really.” He says, watches Dustin visibly relax, but then Robin carts him and Lucas away, giving Steve and Eddie space and tossing a wink in Eddie’s direction. Eddie finds himself growing to appreciate her more and more. “I really did have a good time tonight. Cross my heart.” Eddie says, before drawing an “x” over his heart with his fingers.

Steve laughs, and opens his mouth to say something before he seems to reconsider. He thinks for a moment, before leaning over the table. “Are you wearing my jersey?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, looks down and laughs. He’d forgotten he hadn’t taken it off, and Robin had said that Steve didn’t know about it. “I mean, it’s technically not yours. Just has your name and number on it.”

Steve squints his eyes before he leans back and takes a sip of his beer. Eddie seizes the opportunity to be chaotic, then, decides to take the leap. “I mean, I totally could be wearing your jersey, if you wanted me to. But you’re going to have to take me out of this one first.”

It’s worth it, if for no other reason than Steve starts choking on his drink, coughing loudly and drawing everyone’s attention. He composes himself quickly, but his face is still bright red, and Eddie grins.

“You’re a menace.” Steve accuses, voice hoarse and thick, and Eddie shrugs.

“What are you going to do about it?” He challenges.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I'm going to try reblogging with a tag list this week because it's LONG and I have no idea how else to try to make it work without hitting a character limit. Thank you to everyone who is still reading! I've got so many ideas for this bouncing around in my head, I can't wait to flesh them out and I hope you continue to enjoy!

#steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie au #steddie fic #steddie hockey au #hockey player!steve harrington #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #hockey player!steve #starkidmunson writes #glitter & crimson #stranger things fanfiction

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rogueddie · 7 months

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Nancys torn shirt was a poor excuse for a bandage and Steve should have changed it as soon as they got out of the Upside Down. He should have cleaned it, best he could, and rewrapped his sides in clean bandages.

But he didn't do that. He'd forgotten all about his injuries as soon as Nancys eyes rolled back in her head.

It didn't feel important after that. They had stopped hurting during the bike ride to Eddies. If the cloth tied around his waist wasn't covered in dry blood and rubbing uncomfortably against his skin anytime he moved, he would have forgotten all about the bites.

After losing Max... and Eddie... he couldn't bring himself to care. He was still on his feet. He still felt fine. He mostly felt guilty, still high on the adrenaline that always comes with a fight with the Upside Down.

It was Robin who told a nurse that Steve was also injured and needed seeing.

But the bites were... good. They were easy to clean and no where near as deep as Steve remembers them being.

"You're lucky here," the nurse told him. "You need to keep wounds clean, no matter how small. If these got infected, you could be in big trouble."

It was only a week later that he started to feel it. And he knew he should tell the others. Robin, Nancy, Will, anyone. He knows the signs. He knows what it could mean.

He feels cold.

There's a buzzing building in the back of his head.

The portals cutting through the town call to him.

He's hungry.

"I just don't feel well," he lies. "I'll sleep it off, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

He can hear Robin frowning through the phone. It almost makes him ache, knowing how much it must be upsetting her that he's drawing back.

"I'm sure," he says. "I'll call you, the second I feel better."

"Not good enough, Harrington. I want a call every single day, I don't care if you're too sick to talk. Breathe at me or something."

"I'll try." Another lie.

"I miss you, Stevie."

"Miss you too, Bobbie. So much."

He hangs up, and immediately wishes he hadn't.

There's a crack at the bottom of his pool. He can feel exactly where it leads and, without Robins voice in his ear tethering him, he can't think of a reason not to.

It's too tempting. Too easy.

Crawling into the Upside Down, all he feels is relief. It's like he can finally breathe again. The spores make his lungs finally feel clear.

"Wh- Steve?!" Someone yelps.

Sat at the edge of his pool, legs dangling off the edge and covered in blood-

"Eddie?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" He says, sliding down into the pool. The vines move to help him. "You gotta go back, man, you can't be here."

"You're alive?"

"Not really, but that's not important. Harrington, you have to leave. Whatever this hive shit wants you for, it's not good."

"Hive? What?"

"Yeah, the... Jesus, dude, what did you think was drawing you in here?"

"I don't know... I didn't really... I couldn't..."

"Hey, Steve, snap-"

Eddie steps forward, trying to scare Steve back by getting in his face, but he freezes mid sentence when they're barely a step apart.

Before Steve can ask, Eddie is pulling his head to the side by his hair, nose almost pressed to his neck. Sniffing him.

"What the hell?" Steve chokes out, once Eddie draws back.

He doesn't step back though, one hand still clutching his jacket and the other resting on the side of his neck. He looks scared.

"They weren't drawing you in. They were calling you home."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #unfinished

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libraryofgage · 9 months

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Addams Family Steddie AU Part 3

Part One | Part Two

To preface, a bitch is sick rn so if you see any typos, no you didn't lol

"Robin, this is serious."

Steve can perfectly see Robin rolling her eyes through the phone as she says, "Oh, right, I'm so sorry your fiance-to-be is the perfect boyfriend who takes you on wonderful dates and romances you every single second you're together."

"I'm starting to think you're jealous."

"I'd only be jealous if Eddie had tits."

"He'd probably get some if I asked."

In the silence that follows, Steve can imagine Robin's scrunched face: her crinkled nose and curled lips and generally disgusted eyebrow furrow. He counts down from six in his head and then mouths along as Robin says, "I'd hang up if I weren't so invested in your love life."

"For someone so invested, you're not helping."

He hears a put-upon sigh through the speaker and returns it with a sigh of his own. Steve gives up on sitting properly and collapses back onto his bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan Hulyet is currently hanging from to nap.

"Fine, fine, what's the actual problem again?" Robin asks, her question followed by the sound of her shutting a book (one of her science textbooks based on the sound it makes when closing) so she can give Steve her full attention.

"Eddie is always planning our dates, and they're always really good, right? So I want to plan a date in return, but I have no clue how to plan something we'll both equally enjoy. In fact, I have no clue how Eddie plans our dates in the first place."

"Just start with something he likes and try to find something you'll like in it."

"Okay, say it again, but pretend I'm five."

Robin sighs again, and Steve hears the creaking of her bed as she collapses onto it. "Okay, the last date he planned, it was a hockey game, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, you like sports. Hockey is an obvious jump from there, but was Eddie also having fun at the game?"

Steve hums, reviewing their date from the week before. He hadn't expected Eddie to pull out hockey tickets, but he'd looked forward to it nonetheless. The game itself was fun, and the rink was cold enough that Steve had been able to scoot closer to Eddie and complain about being chilly.

Of course, Eddie's immediate response was to pull out a lighter, open it, and flick a flame to life while asking, "How big of a fire do you want, Stevie?"

For a brief moment, Steve had considered the question. But then he'd realized a fire would disrupt the hockey game, so they probably shouldn't start one.

After grabbing the lighter and stuffing it into his own pocket, Steve leaned closer and whispered, "Wouldn't you rather put your arm around me?" Eddie had lit up, and his smile was wide enough to make Steve feel blinded as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.

It had been wonderful and romantic, right up until both of them got way too into the game and completely forgot about cuddling in favor of shouting at the players to hit harder and actually draw some blood to get the puck.

Steve smiles a little at the memory. "Yeah, he enjoyed the violence."

"Well, we all enjoy seeing buff people get a little bloody," Robin says, and Steve can see the way she's nodding like a wise man. "Anyway, he probably knew he'd enjoy the whole violence part of the sport. So, follow that formula."

"What formula are you seeing here?"

"Thing fiance-to-be likes plus a small part of it you could probably enjoy equals romance. If that's too hard, just get him a gift and plan the date around that."

Well, it sounds easy when she says it like that. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because I'm the genius here, obviously. Now go plan a date so you can tell me all about it later. And I expect details, Steven. Sordid details. If I'm not quivering in my bodice, what's the fucking point."

"You don't even have a bodice. And my name isn't Steven."

"I'll get one, and your name is whatever's comedically appropriate."

"I found a good website for bodices and corsets, actually. I can send it to you."

"What are you doing on that website, Steve?" Robin asks, her voice light and eager.

Steve smirks, pulling the phone away from his ear and saying, "Wouldn't you like to know," before quickly hanging up. The phone stays silent for three whole seconds before Robin immediately calls back, but Steve is too busy laughing to actually pick up.

Part of why the Munsons moved to Steve's neighborhood is the cemetery within walking distance. The cemetery is at the very back of the neighborhood, hidden from people who don't actually live there. The front of the cemetery is perfectly presentable. The gravestones are clean and new, and flowers decorate most graves while others hold pebbles and stones of various sizes and colors.

The back of the cemetery, however, is a Munson paradise. The grass gives way to brown, under-watered weeds and dirt, the faded gravestones are covered in moss and plants climbing them, and the trees are perpetually leafless and spindly to create the perfect horror movie atmosphere. It was like that even before the Munsons moved to the neighborhood, but Steve doesn't actually know why.

The back of the cemetery is where Steve leads Eddie, occasionally looking back to make sure the blindfold covering Eddie's eyes is still in place. "You know, I was expecting more than walking when you pulled out the blindfold," Eddie says, squeezing Steve's hand.

"We're almost there," Steve promises, looking around them until he spots the picnic blanket and pillows he'd laid down earlier in front of a blank gravestone. There's a small projector on the edge of the blanket, facing the wall of a mausoleum, with a DVD player connected to it.

Steve stops at the edge of the blanket, takes a deep breath, and moves to stand in front of Eddie. "Okay," he says, reaching up and carefully pulling off the blindfold.

When it comes off, Eddie looks straight at Steve, not sparing a glance at the set-up behind him. "Are you the surprise?" he asks, sliding his hands around Steve's hips and pulling him closer.

"I'm not much of a surprise," Steve points out.

"You're the best gift I could ask for," Eddie says, sealing the words with a kiss that would be too easy for Steve to get lost in.

And he almost does, but he pulls away before Eddie's tongue can get too far into his mouth. "No, wait, you haven't seen the actual surprise," he mumbles, putting a few inches between them and gesturing to the picnic blanket.

Eddie's eyes light up, and he pulls Steve to the blanket. He sits against the headstone and tugs Steve down next to him. "Movie date in a graveyard? Very romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning close and kissing Steve's jaw.

"Well, that's not the whole surprise," Steve replies, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hears a quiet hum from above him and adds, "This is our spot."

"What? Like a make-out spot? We gonna sneak out in the middle of the night to make out right here twice a week?"

"Only twice?" Steve asks, his voice teasing as he tilts his head back to see Eddie smile. He doesn't give Eddie the chance to answer, though. Instead, he takes Eddie's hand and plays with his engaged-to-be-engaged ring. "I mean, this is our spot. We're leaning on our gravestone."

A few seconds pass before Eddie seems to actually process the words. When he does, he straightens up, tugging Steve away from the gravestone with him so he can see it. "Is this...a couple's plot?" he asks, his eyes wide as he looks from the stone to Steve.

Steve flushes, heat rising in his cheeks as he looks away. He takes a deep breath, deciding to just verbalize his thought process when he'd bought the plot. "I figured, well, we wouldn't want to be apart even in death. So we'll be buried together, you know? Our corpses will be embracing as we rot for eternity, becoming skeletons and dust that will only know each other."

The words are followed by silence, making Steve wonder if he somehow fucked up with his gift. He braces himself and glances up at Eddie to ask if he doesn't like it only to be pushed back on the blanket. Steve blinks, his brain barely catching up as Eddie kisses him. This is, by far, the most desperate kiss Steve has ever received from Eddie. It's a kiss that's practically begging Steve to give Eddie permission to swallow him whole, tuck him securely into the marrow of his bones, and hold him there so they'll never be apart.

Steve is a little confused, but he's far more interested in kissing back, sliding his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugging playfully as he bites Eddie's tongue. A rough growl in response sends shivers down Steve's spine, goosebumps spreading across his arms as Eddie pushes his hands under Steve's shirt.

Surprisingly warm fingers trail across Steve's abdomen before Eddie's hands settle on his hips, his pinkies teasingly pushing past the waistband of his jeans. Steve sighs softly, relaxing at the familiar sensation as he hooks one of his legs over Eddie's waist, pulling him close until their hips and chests are flush against each other.

Eddie grins against Steve's lips, his left hand trailing down Steve's waist to rest on his thigh, holding it in place as he teasingly grinds their hips together. Steve jolts, a surprised, quiet moan escaping him as his hands start to tremble with adrenaline and...well, sheer horniness if he's being honest.

"Please tell me we can fuck on our future grave," Eddie says, his voice low and husky as he speaks against Steve's lips.

Steve groans, fully agreeable to the idea only to realize two very important things. One, he doesn't have any lube, and two, he was actually looking forward to watching movies with Eddie, which wouldn't really happen if they got too distracted. Plus, you know, the whole sex in public thing, but that's not as big of a deal. Who's going to be visiting the cemetery on a Wednesday?

But Steve doesn't want to completely dash Eddie's hopes and the sheer joy in his eyes at the idea, so he presses another kiss to his lips and promises, "Later, Eddie."

Despite his disappointed expression, Eddie doesn't argue. He just sits up, pulling Steve with him so he stays in his lap. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing down Steve's neck until he reaches the point where it meets his shoulder. He bites down there, causing Steve to inhale sharply as he licks and sucks a hickey onto his skin.

Steve shakily exhales, biting his bottom lip to keep himself grounded. When it feels like Eddie is about to start on another hickey, Steve uses his grip on his hair to pull him back. "Stevie," Eddie breathes, his eyes dark as he looks up at him, "you know what pulling does to me."

Steve snorts, kisses his cheek, and climbs off his lap. "Keep it in your pants for now, babe. I actually want to get to the other part of this date," he says, moving over to the projector.

"And what's that?" Eddie asks.

"Classic monster movies," Steve says, grinning at the excited gasp that comes from Eddie as he turns on the projector. Once it boots up, the mausoleum wall shows the opening menu for a Monster Movie Collection DVD. Steve puts on Frankenstein, making sure the movie actually starts and the opening credits begin rolling before climbing back into Eddie's lap.

"I love you so fucking much," Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and hugging him close as he rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.

Steve grins, leaning back against him and idly playing with one of the rings on Eddie's fingers. "I love you, too. Now shut up and watch the movie. No more making out until at least this one is over."

"Yes, sir."

Steve can't help a soft laugh. He takes Eddie's hand, raises it to his lips, and playfully bites his palm before lacing their fingers together and focusing on the movie.

Tag List: @estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, If anyone else wants to be tagged in potential future parts, just let me know!

#steddie #steddie fic #addams family steddie #addams! eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #there's a reference to Addams Family Values in here #whoever notices it please know I love you #also #for anyone who was curious about that lol #this au has consumed me body and soul

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inklessletter · 10 months

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Since I can't draw tonight, here's a steddie prompt for you:

Steve runs away from home once he becomes eighteen because his home environment is absolutely toxic. It's all yelling, and spitting insults, and constantly hearing that he is such a disappointment, so he decides to hit the road and go some city away from everyone he knows and just start over. His trauma response to loud, aggressive spaces leads him to accept a job managing a school library.

And he finds out it is his dream job.

He sees all these teens studying, sharing glances, romances beginning, stress increasing as midterms come closer, annoyed faces, giggling girls gossiping, kids vandalizing his tables... And he feels an observant. A watcher.

And he imagines. He imagines their lives, the tall jock with the widest smile going soft for the sarcastic redhead. The quiet thing blossoming between tose two boys who give longing glances when the other is not looking. The oddest friendship between the meanest eleven year old he's ever met and the most cynical kid to ever set foot in that school. He sees and he imagines, but he's silent.

Because silence is a precious shield that protects his imagination. Silence will never hurt him.

His first real friendship begins in silence. This girl, Robin, passes him a note with a poor drawing of him falling asleep on his desk. It made him laugh. She laughed too. That was enough.

They play this game together in which they both exchanged the craziest theories they could think of about other people's lives.

That one is a Russian spy.

That one runs a secret lab.

That one has mind powers (okay, that was maybe too crazy).

That one is an former cop.

"That one is a rockstar," Robin said pointing an absurdly good looking guy that was checking out a couple of books.

"He does looks like one, though..."

Robin was going to reply when she noticed Steve's rosy cheeks. She just smiled. She noticed the guy looking briefly at them, and then he grinned.

"Metal is more my scene, but close enough," he said.

Shit.

The guy approached them and Robin, the traitor, bolted away. The guy, all dimples and soft hair lent Steve two books and his library card (Munson, Eddie), that he registered and gave back to him.

Steve tried hard not to be an awkward mess, he barely managed to.

"I do actually play in a band, uh, on Tuesdays," Eddie said. Steve looked at him with a twist in his stomach. "And today is Tuesday. So if you want to come, I would gladly buy you a drink."

Steve felt a lump in his throat, and looked down.

"Uh, I—I don't—"

"Oh, sorry, I just—"

"I don't do well with loud noises," Steve said quickly. "I'm sorry."

Eddie nodded.

"Good luck tonight," Steve said, not wanting to leave the conversation in a rejection. He pointed the book. "This one is really good."

"Have you read The Lord of the Rings?"

"Yeah," Steve smiled. "I've got time and silence here."

Eddie looked at him with something hidden in his pupils meant to be discovered by Steve.

Eddie left the library.

There were a few days and a lot of conversations with Robin about that Eddie guy. Steve let himself imagine again, about him. About Eddie. He fantasized a lot, ignoring deliberately the sting in his guts knowing that he blew up his chance.

Two weeks passed and Eddie was there to return the books again, with a small guitar case hanging in his back, and Steve tried his best not to look like a kicked puppy.

"I can do soft noises," Eddie said, out of the blue. It earned him a look from both Robin and Steve. "When do you, uh, have a break?"

"Right now," Robin chimed in, quickly. "He's having a break right now."

A few minutes later they were in the rooftop. They found a comfortable spot with the best views and Eddie took out an old and battered ukulele. Then he looked at Steve.

"I am not a silent person. I exist in noise, and busy environments, and awful high pitched laughs," he said with a smile. "I can't change that, but I can change the noise."

Eddie caressed the tiny guitar strings, and the sound sent goosebumps through all Steve's skin.

"I can change the noise for you," Eddie said, low and soft, and he started playing a song. "If you let me."

His first real love began with music.

#steddie #fic #steddie fic #ficlet #prompt #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fanfic #fluff

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queenie-ofthe-void · 26 days

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Stuck

~1.5k words || rating: teen || cws: dissociation; unlabeled neurodivergencies and mental illnesses

He’s never quite sure how it happens, seeming to always sneak up on him. One minute he’s up and moving around, usually cleaning, organizing, or just meandering around the house. The next, he’s lying on the floor in the middle of the living room. He tries to move but can’t. Not because he’s physically restrained, like when the rope from the Russians cut into his wrists or how the vines constricted his neck.

No, Steve’s just lying here on the floor, trapped in his own mind. His eyes are raw, stinging with dryness. Painful tingles pop throughout his right arm from where his head rests heavy on his bicep. His hip and shoulder ache. He can’t move or talk or blink. Can barely think. He’s not in his body.

He’s lost. Stuck.

Getting stuck means losing time, chunks of days lost to a void. It means missing meals and unanswered phone calls. Growing up, it felt like an escape. A safe way to pass the time between eating and sleeping. He’d come back to himself, sometimes hours later, sore and hungry, mustering up energy he didn’t have. Once, his parents discovered him frozen on the ground. Mom’s yelling and Dad’s foot shoving his side brought him jolting back into his body. Like waking from a nightmare, rising from the dead chased by panic.

It happens less now, but still catches up to him when he’s exhausted. He thinks today it was the kids– they were particularly obnoxious. Yelling excitedly about Eddie’s new campaign ideas, trucking in snow from outside after building a demo-snowman. Cooking for them, cleaning after them, getting them home safe.

Yeah, he gets how he maybe overdid it a bit.

But with Eddie here, it’s easier. His sweetheart always knows how to help, usually checking up on him after stressful days. Hopefully he comes to check on him soon.

Because Steve can’t move. Or talk. Or even blink.

The sun is starting to set.

~~~

The Party were extra chaotic today, pushing him to the fringes of patience. He’s thrilled they’re excited about his newest campaign ideas, but god, did they have to be so unbearably loud about it? Dustin’s screeches are still rattling between his ears. Not to mention the soreness he feels from helping the kids build a snowman demo-thing and the ensuing snowball fight.

The idea of an occult campaign has been percolating in Eddie’s brain for weeks, and after the day he’s had, he’s lost to the research. Perched on a chair upstairs in their bedroom, books are scattered across the desk and onto their bed next to him. Typically, creative deep-dives restore his energy after a long day. But when he’s well and truly exhausted, he’ll lose hours at a time to the work. Getting stuck, according to Steve. And yeah, Eddie can see how that fits.

Growing up, Eddie would lose hours throwing himself into his latest and greatest project, whether it be drawing, playing guitar, writing campaigns, reading or even the time he tried juggling. Entranced by his newest obsession, his surroundings would fade into the background. He’d forget to do his homework, to eat or drink. Hell, sometimes he’d forget to pee. Wayne’d drop a gentle hand to his shoulder– pulling him back to reality– and he’d take off like a shot to the bathroom. Every sensation hitting all at once: bladder about to burst, stomach rumbling, dry mouth, headache, body stiff and achy.

As he gets older, it’s still a frequent occurrence. So Robin had given him the idea of setting alarms, saying it helps her remember to take breaks while studying. And he’s thankful, because it works like a charm when he actually remembers. But when he forgets, his Stevie takes care of him.

He’ll find Eddie crouched awkwardly by the desk, eyes manic, only seeing what’s in front of him. Eddie will eat or drink anything Steve gives him, barely tasting whatever it is, just as long as he can see it. And Steve lets him be for at least a few hours so he can burn energy into whatever project he's lost himself in. All Steve cares is that he’s fed and hydrated. Usually, Eddie comes to slowly, with Steve’s fingers gently carding through his hair, or soft strokes up and down his spine.

Now Eddie breaks his own musings, eyes strained, hungry, and needing to stretch. He can’t help but wonder why his sweetheart hasn’t checked on him.

Moonlight is shining through the window.

~~~

It’s eerily quiet as Eddie makes his way down the stairs. He half expects to find Steve stress-baking, but the kitchen is dark.

So he checks the garage– the car is still here. And the backyard– he never sits by the pool alone. Then the front porch– maybe he went out for a smoke.

Guilt eats at Eddie as he finds his beautiful boy on the living room floor, curled into himself.

Stuck.

He hates finding Steve like this– stuck and lost like Eddie’s engrossed fantasies. Yet so, so different.

The first time Eddie found him, unresponsive and immovable, he spiraled into a panic so strong Steve had broken free of his own melancholy, finding Eddie hyperventilating and sobbing in the midst of a flashback. Too much like Chrissy. Like Patrick and Nancy.

They'd talked about it. And Eddie had appreciated afterwards how Steve struggled to describe what being stuck feels like, why it happens, what to do about it. It'd helped.

So on grey days, long nights, the holidays, or when the kids are extra rowdy, Eddie looks for the signs. He's been good about getting Steve to slow down before it's too late.

But on rare occasions, there will be a day like today. When it’s too much for both of them.

Eddie doesn't know how long his baby’s been lying here. Doesn't know when he ate or drank or even blinked. Because he’d holed himself up, desperate for time alone to just think. To be with himself after spending all day surrounded by people. But he forgot to set an alarm, assuming Steve would be there.

He focuses on his sweetheart, slowly kneeling down next to him so as not to startle him. Remembers all of the tips and tricks Steve needs.

"Hey honey," Eddie whispers, close enough to be present but not overwhelming. "Don't worry baby we'll get you unstuck I promise. I'm going to reach out and grab your hand now ok?"

He continues to whisper gentle praises and reassurances as he holds Steve's hand. It's limp for a time, and Eddie is hungry, but he doesn't stop. Time is lost to them both again, until he feels a slight squeeze on his fingers. Steve finally blinks, slow and hard.

"Hey big boy, love to see those pretty, long eyelashes.” He smiles down at his baby, honeyed hazel eyes slowly refocusing. “Alright, once for no and two for yes: do you want me to help you onto the couch?"

A full minute passes before Eddie feels two gentle squeezes to his fingers.

"That's great sweetheart. I'm gonna tilt you to sit up and we'll get you settled. Then I'm going to ask if you want anything. Ready?" Two squeezes.

They finally get to the couch, and Eddie can already feel a strong sense of relief at just seeing his baby move off the floor. He hears Steve's back pop as they stand, decides he'll give him a massage later.

It goes on. And on and on. Eddie follows the process of squeezes until Steve is unstuck and back in his body.

"Water?" Two squeezes.

"Food?" One squeeze.

"Blanket?" Two squeezes.

Eddie's patience always pays off. He's got Steve set up on the couch, hydrated and relaxed, with his favorite movie playing softly. He’s managed to grab a bowl of cereal for himself. They're cuddled and warm with Steve’s head in his lap. Eddie glides his fingers up and down the sore side of Steve’s body, gently squeezing as he goes.

~~~

Steve comes back to himself surrounded by love.

His eyes sting and his mouth is dry. He doesn't know what time it is, but notices the sun has long set, moonlight shining through the curtains. The bones in his neck crack and his joints pop as he stretches.

But he's warm under the blankets, tucked into his boyfriend's chest as they watch the teddy bear Star Wars. Eddie's loosely twirling the hairs at the nape of his neck, lightly tugging and sending tingles down his spine. There's a glass of water and crackers on the table in front of him.

Getting stuck inside his head terrifies him, something he dreads as much as the night terrors.

But with Eddie, it's easier, happens less often. And when it does, he always wakes up to love.

This was a pure self-indulgence fic. An exact recreation of my relationship with my partner. It fits my headcanon for the boys perfectly (though I'm obviously biased haha)

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #hurt/comfort #steve harrington does not feel his feelings it's practically canon #steve harrington is my favorite self insert and i will continue to do so until i get so sick of writing myself i go back to canon #rinse and repeat #eddie munson #eddie munson is the personification of adhd #have you seen that man's bedroom? it's definitely canon #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlet #QueenieWritesStories

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louloulemons-posts · 11 months

Text

Missing You

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie misses his favourite girl.

Word count : 0.7k

Warnings : Toothrotting fluff, Eddie being clingy, pet names, minor mention of sex, minor angst if you squint, a kiss, reader calls Eddie Edward lmao, fluff fluff fluff.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“See you later Wayne,” Eddie shouted out to his uncle as he headed off to his night shift. He heard the older man speaking to his favourite girl as he went.

“Hey Wayne,” said her sweet voice.

“Hiya Sweetheart, you have a good night okay.”

“You too, don’t work too hard.” Wayne’s soft laugh echoed through lightly and he heard the front door shut again.

Sliding her shoes off and putting her bag down on the couch, she called out for her boy, “Eddie.”

“In here baby.” Soon enough his bedroom door was pushed open and there stood his love.

“Hey pretty girl,” he smiled softly, she was slightly disheveled, hairs sticking out wildly, but still so beautiful. “Whatcha working on?” she motioned to the guitar on his lap. “Just trying to figure out this piece, but it doesn’t matter, come to me.”

He placed the red guitar on the bed next to him, and held out his hands to her. Walking into his space he rested his head on her stomach, wrapping his arms around.

“How was work?” he mumbled.

“Same old, Saturday shift so busy,” she smiled, running her hands through his curls. “Missed you,” he spoke gently.

“You okay?”

“Can’t I miss you?”

“No you can, just wondering. Let me get changed and we can cuddle okay?”

He whined as she pulled herself from his hold. “The sooner I get changed the sooner you can have me back,” instantly he let her go, so fast that she stumbled slightly. “Jesus babe,” she laughed.

Taking her clothes out of her designated draw, Y/N spoke, “What do you want to do tonight? Steve and Robs are heading to the movies after work, we could join them?”

“I thought we could stay here, hang out.”

Popping her head through the shirt she cocked her brow, “Okay what’s up with you?”

“Nothing!”

“Edward,” she sighed, walking back over to him, now in sweats and an old tee, “baby what’s up?”

Taking his face in her hand she met his beautiful chocolate eyes, like a baby cow she’d tease. “I just miss you.”

“Eddie I’m right here. We see each other nearly every day. At school, we hang after school, I come here.”

“But it’s never just us anymore! It’s us and other people : Dustin, Gareth, Robin, Wayne, god damn babe, even Steve Harrington,” he exclaimed, flailing his hands dramatically.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re horny?” and asked, softly rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks, “Babe we can fix that.”

“No! It’s not that, I mean I love doing that, but I just want you .. just us, to spend time together. I miss you,” he closed his eyes, embarrassed by the outburst.

Gently she sat down on his lap, legs wrapping round his waist, pulling his head to rest in her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What? Eddie no! You have nothing to be sorry for. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than lay in bed and cuddle with you.”

“Really?” he asked, coming out of her neck to look at her face. Nodding, smiling slightly, “Really, I love spending time with you Eds, you’re my favourite person. Honestly I’ve been missing you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I feel like with work, and school and friends. We’ve been seeing each other but we’re not really SEEING each other, you know?” she explained.

“Exactly! I just miss us.”

“Hey, you listen to me Edward Munson, we are still us, we just need to be us in private rather than with other people. I have an idea,” she said, as he gently played with the hem of her shirt. “Hm?”

“I’m gonna go call Robs, get her to cover for me, then I’m gonna call my mom and tell her I’m with Robin.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked as she stood up from his lap. “Because we are having a sleepover, and tomorrow we’re gonna hang out all day, and you’ll be so sick of me!” she grinned, kissing his cheek.

Turning around to run to the phone, she was pulled back by Eddie who stood up. Taking her face in his hands he kissed her softly, “I love you so much my sweet girl.”

“I love you Eddie Munson. Now put your guitar away, I’m you to be ready for cuddles when I’m back.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave any requests 🤍

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lovebugism · 6 months

Note

for fictober, maybe making matching halloween costumes with steve and he says smth like "ur costume looks great" ?

ty for requesting!! — steve gets all "king steve"-y about halloween and you make him eat his words (established relationship, fluff, mentions of smut 18+, 1.3k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Lying over Steve’s bare body, you sprinkle kisses to the blossoming pink marks on his neck. He tastes clean and boyish — like the mint of his aftershave, the salt of his sweat, and the faintest hint of sex still lingering in the air.

His calloused palms smooth up and down your naked waist under the plaid comforter you lay beneath. He noses at your hair, a faint smile on his face. He never knew a person could be so content.

“Mm… Halloween’s coming up, you know?”

“Mhm?” you hum absentmindedly against his neck, continuing your gentle assault there. You don’t want him to think you’re not listening, but the taste of his skin on your tongue is much louder than the words spilling from his kissed mouth.

“We should probably come up with a costume, don’t ya think?”

Your lips smack audibly when you part from his neck. You blink at him with glassy eyes, mouth swollen and parted in bemusement. “Seriously, Steve?” you monotone. “You’re not even soft yet.”

“I know, but it’s stressing me out,” he whines, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back — looking not unlike he had just moments ago. “It’s been keeping me up a night, babe. Seriously.”

A crooked smile blossoms slowly on your lips. You shake your head with a shrug, entertaining him despite yourself. “Why don’t you and Robin dress up together?”

“Because she wanted to go as the twins from The Shining. Like a freak.”

“I personally would love to see you in a skimpy dress, all covered in blood,” you confess in a teasing inflection, though your mischievous grin is more sincere.

Steve’s features fall flat as he deadpans. “Of course you would. ‘Cause you’re also a freak.”

Your smile widens. You lean further in to kiss him with it — a firm and languid peck you try to deepen. He pulls away before you can, looking just as pained by it as you do. “Stop being hot, it’s distracting me.”

“Dress up however you want, Steve. I don’t care—”

“I care,” he insists, brows raised and eyes wild. “We have to dress up together—”

“Why?”

“‘Cause we’re a couple, and we love each other, and I…”

Your eyes narrow when he trails off. “And you what?”

He gets all awkward, flustered and shifting beneath you. One of his fidgeting hands leaves your side to swipe through his wild, sweat-damp hair. He stammers through the words, trying to figure out the best way to say them. “And I… have a reputation that… makes these things sorta important. That’s all.”

“Right,” you hum sarcastically, nodding slowly in return.

“It just takes genuine consideration, okay? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you lilt with your head tilted to your bare shoulder. Your fingers continue to draw absentminded patterns on his scruffy chest. ��I’m glad to know that my boyfriend — who graduated high school two years ago — still needs everyone’s applause to live.”

Steve meets your sweet smile with a squint. “You can’t be mean to me like that. You know it turns me on.”

Your grin grows into a more sincere expression. You peck his soft pout too quickly for him to kiss you back. You’re rolling off of him a second later. He whines at the loss of you, immediately cold without the warm weight of your naked body.

“What— where are you going?” Steve complains as you pad across the living room, still totally bare.

“Close your eyes,” you command without looking back at him.

“What?”

“Close your eyes!”

With your hand on the knob of the closet door, your glance over your shoulder to make sure he isn’t peeking. When you’re certain he’s obeyed you, you rifle through the hung clothes there. It smells like his cologne, your perfume, and an old house — domestic bliss.

You find your and his old Scoops Ahoy uniforms smashed together in the very back. The red, white, and blue sailor’s outfit sends a pang of warm nostalgia bursting in your stomach. The hanger thumps against the wall when you tug his off of it.

You look back again, finding Steve with his nose scrunched and one eye peeking open. It only confuses him more, finding you halfway hidden in your shared closet.

“Keep ‘em closed, Harrington!”

He abides, rather quickly after having been caught so suddenly. “Is this a surprise? ‘Cause I’m not mad about it, but… I’m still a little confused.”

“You’ll see…” you trail off with a mischievous inflection.

The heavy cotton of the uniform slides over you with ease, all but swallowing you whole. You roll the bright blue shorts at the hem so they aren’t as long on you, tucking the oversized top within itself just the same. The white hat sits lopsided on your head, just as wrinkled as the rest of it. Thesewn-in nametag sits just above your breast.

“Okay. Open your eyes,” you announce, finally.

Steve’s honey gaze flutters open. He’s confused at first, then shocked, then somewhat pleasantly surprised. He blinks at you for several long moments, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

You hold your arms out beside yourself, doing a little spin so he can get every angle of you. “Do you like?” you question with a knowing twinkle in your eye.

He nods until the words to answer you catch up to him. “Yeah. I like. I like very much, actually.”

It isn’t a whole lot unlike seeing you in his clothes, which has happened hundreds of times by now. His favorite sweater’s lying in a crumbled ball on the floor this very moment from where he’d pulled it off of you earlier.

But something about this drives him unusually wild.

It’s the nostalgia, perhaps. He fell in love with you at Scoops, and now you’re wearing his uniform, bare underneath it, just to appease him.

“So, there. We settled it,” you concede with a grin as you walk back to the bed again. “See how easy that was…” you trail off when you crawl back on the mattress, gravitating towards Steve like you were destined to do it.

His chin juts back when you try to kiss him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa— what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “It means I’ll go as you, and you’ll go as me.”

“But then why wouldn’t you just wear your uniform.”

“‘Cause then it wouldn’t be dressing up… I’d just be me from a year ago.”

Steve’s honey eyes remain in a puzzled squint. His chiseled features are twisted, still confused in his way. “But there’s no way I’m fitting in your uniform.”

“Yeah. It’ll be super tight, and the skirt will be super short,” you nod before a wide grin tugs slow at the corners of your kissed mouth. Your tongue peeks from behind your teeth, smile glittering with a girlish giddiness. “You’ll look like a total slut.”

Steve’s scrunched brows raise at the mischievous expression. “And I’m guessing that’s a good thing?”

You smile at your oblivious boy, cupping his face in your hands until his cheeks squish together. “Yes, Stevie. That’s a very, very good thing.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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afewproblems · 10 months

Text

For Dio @flowercrowngods this is late but hopefully a decent little birthday gift! An homage to your beautiful yearning hours.

Steve wakes slowly, registering the hand in his hair first before anything else.

The second is that he's warm, tucked securely into Eddie side. He's talking to Robin, who sits on the recliner across the coffee table, gesturing emphatically in soft tones as he speaks.

They're in Steve's living room still, though it looks like almost everyone else has gone to bed at this point, giving up on their movie night.

The lights are off, the room instead is illuminated by the flickering television in the corner. A movie is playing, but Eddie and Robin pay little attention to it.

Eddie's hand comes up again to card through Steve's hair, so gently that Steve nearly moans at the touch.

They aren't together, but as Steve sinks even further into Eddie's side, he can let himself pretend.

Just for a moment.

He opens his eyes again to find Robin looking at him, she raises a single eyebrow at him before turning her attention back to Eddie --Steve knows they'll be discussing this later, but for now he's grateful she's kept his secret this time.

Steve lets himself drift for a bit, content to breathe in Eddie, the hint of cigarettes and weed that clings to his hair, the old spice deodorant he borrowed from Wayne. They way his voice rumbles slightly as he tries to stay quiet for Steve's sake, it all blends together, warm, nice, loved, safe.

Even if some small part knows he'll wake up alone the next day, that it isn't real, Steve can't help but hold onto this moment with shaking hands.

"I know you’re awake," Eddie hums lowly, drawing Steve out of his thoughts with a start.

Robin's seat is empty now, and the television is off. The only light now sifts through a crack in the window curtains, cutting a silver stream through the room.

"Penny for your thoughts Stevie?" He whispers, his eyes dart between Steve's own.

If only you knew.

Steve clears his throat and begins to sit up, only for Eddie's arm to curl around his shoulders firmly, keeping him in place.

"I think there's a discount if the thought, the uh feeling is mutual, ya know," Eddie says slowly, "like a two for one special".

Eddie winces slightly, looking as though he wants to bolt for the door, but Steve can't help the smile that slowly spreads over his face --even as a baffled laugh threatens to overtake him.

His chest aches with how much he loves this ridiculous man.

"Just kiss already," Robin calls out from the kitchen, making them both freeze where they sit.

His heart hammering in his throat he looks between the kitchen doorway and Eddie, his big brown eyes wide with panic.

All at once, the decision solidifies for Steve.

He takes a deep breath through his nose and releases it slowly through his mouth.

"You heard the lady," Steve hears himself say, but the words sound so far away now as Eddie turns in to face Steve better, as he flushes with an exasperated grin.

Eddie slowly leans in, and Steve lets himself drift once more, basking in the feeling of soft lips against his own and gentle hands in his hair.

#nothing says happy birthday like fluff right?#steddie kisses #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #afewproblems writes #platonic stobin #happy birthday dio

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

Note

prompt word - bikini!

18+ (800 words); p in v smut ahead.

It’s a black number with neon green accents. Tantalizing lines that hit high on the curve of your hips, along the plushest part of you. The place Eddie’s fingers curl around when he beckons you forward for a kiss.

Now you’re only standing before him on Steve’s diving board, stretching your arms upward in the air, back arching, head thrown back as you soak up the sun.

Stretching.

You’re stretching and he’s hard as a fucking rock.

And you know it, too.

Have that wild glint in your eye when you lower your head and glance his way. The look that’s a mere dare, a curl of your fingers beckoning him forth, a ‘come hither.’

It’s how he ends up with you scrambling across his center console in the van. How his fingers hook your bikini bottom to the side and part your center with his fingers, rasping a moan that mingles with yours when he feels how deliciously wet you are—how you’ve likely been all day.

“I love this bikini. But I think it needs to come off,” he murmurs against hot flesh, fingers palming the dough of your ass as you rock against him. “Fuck, baby—”

“Want you, Eddie.”

It’s a whisper against his lips. Cut off with a low moan from the man as your fingers move to unbutton his jeans. His zipper follows suit, a quick glide of metal cutting the silence, hips moving upward just enough to allow him to push jeans and boxers down around his thighs, freeing himself.

You palm his cock once, twice, before pushing your bikini bottom to the side and aligning himself at your center.

“Slow down, baby—holyfuckinshit.”

A curse rounds his lips as you sink down inch by glorious inch, head lolling back and hitting the headrest of his seat when your hips rest flush against his.

He loves you in all phases.

Has for a while now.

Hair a mess, first thing in the morning when you wake. On the days where you don’t feel like yourself. The days you doll yourself up because you simply want to go all out. On the days where you wear his clothes, because you like the way they smell like him.

Like this, right now in this moment, with your bottom lip pinching between your teeth, hips rolling against his, thighs on either side of his waist, chasing your own pleasure. Mouth parted. Eyes blown out in lust.

It’s a frantic glide.

The sounds of your slick, your quiet moans mingling with his, and the breathy hitch in your throat fill the air.

Your fingers splay over his sternum, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, as you fuck yourself down on him, meeting him thrust for thrust, chasing your peaks, drawing yourselves closer and closer to completion.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you need. Just like that. Come on.”

His palm glides up along your shoulders. Curls around the back of your neck to ground you as your pace quickens, bouncing on his cock, breaking off into a high keen as you shatter around him.

His other arm curls around the back of your waist, hips jerking up from the bottom of you once, twice, three times as you clench down on him until he’s coming with a low groan, gasping into the hollow of your throat, whispering he loves you into sweat-slick skin.

Giggling, eyes still rounded in your lusty haze, you curl your fingers around his chin. Brush a soft kiss against his lips as your skin starts to cool once more. “Think the food is done yet?”

And it is.

There’s a whole table full of hotdogs and burgers, condiments strewn about, macaroni and potato salad galore, bowls full of chips, and more drink options than you can count on one hand.

Eddie grins to himself as he watches you chat with Robin across the table, knowing full well he’d slid your bathing suit bottom back into place after fucking you full so you could keep him inside, knowing your legs had trembled as you hopped out of his van, knowing he’d promised to bend you over the hood of it later and do it all over again when you simpered against his mouth that you needed him once more.

So maybe he asks, “Want another hotdog, baby?” when he knows you only had a burger.

Just to mess with you a little.

Rile you up.

And maybe you narrow your eyes at him when he laughs to himself.

Whisper for him to shut up.

But he makes it up to you later just like he told you he would.

Chest over the hood of his car, bikini bottom pushed to the side, fingers around your hips, stretching you open in the way you like until you cry out his name, love a mantra on your lips.

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x f!reader

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