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maysileeewrites · 2 years

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Favorite Nightmare Chapter 1 - Steve Harrington x fem!reader

series m.list || main masterlist

Summary: You’re forced to tutor Steve Harrington, the bane of your existence. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings/additional information: enemies to friends to lovers, lots of bantering, fluff and angst, eventual smut in later chapters, character study, Steve being a huge dork

This takes place right after the events of season 2, so Steve and Nancy have recently broken up, but before the Snow Ball. This is going to be a bit longer than my other works, we’re looking at 14 chapters and an epilogue.

I always try to make my writing as inclusive as possible, but for the premise of this story to work, the reader needs to be a science nerd. I hope that’s okay with you :)

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Ahoy and welcome to the enemies to friends to lovers AU in which the reader tutors Steve that no one asked for! <3 Get comfy and grab a blanket and put on some music and enjoy your very own enemies to friends to lovers story with the one and only Steve Harrington :)

Chapter 1

You’re so focused on listening to Mrs. Williams talk about probability calculation that at first, you don’t even notice the crumpled up piece of paper landing on your desk.

It’s only when suddenly someone pokes your back from behind that you lay down your pen and turn around to face a grinning Eddie Munson.

„I’m trying to take notes here, Munson“, you whisper, already turning around again, but then Eddie pokes you again. You sigh, rolling your eyes in annoyance.

„Oh come on, as if you don’t already know all of this because you already worked through all the chapters on probability calculation in our textbook“, Eddie says, flashing you another grin, totally unfazed by your sour expression.

„I just like to be prepared, know what we’re studying before class, but - „

„Mr. Munson, Miss Y/L/N, if you could kindly resume your conversation after class is over“, Mrs. Williams interrupts you in an irritated tone, pointedly looking at you and Eddie, causing you to flush a deep red.

„Y-yes, of course Mrs. Williams“, you stutter, feeling your palms start to sweat. You can hear people whispering to each other, you can feel their stares on you. If you’d dare to turn around, you’d be able to see Eddie still looking at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, not caring at all that Mrs. Williams just called him out in front of the whole class. Of course he doesn’t care. Eddie Munson doesn’t care what other people think of him, at least not when it comes to people who don’t know him personally.

It’s one of his qualities you’ve always admired. You wish that you could say the same thing about yourself, say that you don’t care what others think about you, but as it is, you can still feel people’s stares burn into your back. Your cheeks are growing hot and you’re sure that you look as red as a tomato right now.

It’s been a long time since you’ve been called out in class, you can’t even remember the last time it happened. It must have been in middle school, when you hadn’t cared as much about your grades as you do now.

„Hey“, Eddie whispers, poking you in the shoulder again. This time, you don’t turn around, keeping your gaze fixed on Mrs. Williams, who has turned around to write down equations on the blackboard.

You pick up your pen again, ready do write down the equations Mrs. Williams is currently explaining, but Eddie just pokes you again. Knowing that Eddie is not going to relent until he gets what he wants, you sigh frustratedly and reach for the crumpled up piece of paper, straightening it out until you can read the hastily scrawled down message Eddie has written.

Harrington looks a bit like a downer lately, doesn’t he?

You shake your head, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You can hear Eddie chuckle behind you and tighten your grip on your pen in response. Eddie knows that you don’t like Steve Harrington - hell, him and Robin have listened to all of your angry vents about the rude and unlikeable douchebag that is Steve Harrington, so you can’t really understand why he has to bother you with this now, in class, when you’d very much just like to listen to Mrs. Williams and not think about assholes like Harrington.

Still, you can’t help but chance a glance in Harrington’s direction. Just like Eddie, Harrington is not even pretending to pay attention to class, staring out the window, and distractedly running a hand through his stupid hair. Unlike Eddie, who’s not paying attention to class because he’s busy distracting you, Harrington has this blank expression on his face, biting his lip absent-mindedly. He blinks harshly, as if the sun outside is too bright for him and turns around again.

Before he can catch you staring at him, you hastily return your attention to your own desk.

Eddie pokes you again, as if to say: ‚So?‘, and you shrug, scribbling down Yeah, I guess so on the piece of paper, before positioning it so that Eddie can read it as well.

You’re more than ready to stop thinking about Steve Harrington - he’s already occupied your mind way too much back in middle school, with him constantly teasing you, calling you names like Einstein or Curie or just nerd, so there’s no need to spend any more unnecessary thoughts on him now -, but then another piece of paper lands on your table and you sigh in defeat, before picking it up.

I guess the break-up with Wheeler really did a number on him, huh?

You shrug, scribbling down an I guess, before pointedly slamming down your textbook on the piece of paper. You pick up your pen again and try to concentrate once more on the equations Mrs. Williams has written down on the blackboard.

As you try to write down all the equations in a hurry, because Mrs. Williams is already reaching for the sponge, you can’t help but think that Eddie is right. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve Harrington be so quiet and reversed and, well, sad, as he’s been these last few days.

The break-up with Nancy Wheeler really did do a number on him, Eddie is right about that. You’d never have thought that a guy like Steve Harrington - vain, popular jock with his group of idiot friends - would fall for someone like Nancy Wheeler, the brainy girl next door. Not that you particularly care about Steve Harrington’s love life. Seeing him and Wheeler together - seeing Harrington literally being over the moon for Wheeler, looking at her with so much admiration and love in his eyes - just really surprised you, that’s all.

You shake your head, biting down hard on your lip. You chance one last glance in Harrington’s direction - he’s still sitting here with his pen in his hand, not writing anything down, just staring straight ahead, still with that blank expression on his face - before you force your thoughts to return to the maths lesson.

The rest of the lesson passes by in a blur, thankfully with your thoughts wholly focused on the equations on the blackboard, and no more distracting notes from Eddie either.

„And read through chapters nine to twelve in your textbooks before our next lesson“, Mrs. Williams says after the bell has sounded, raising her voice to be heard over the immediate chatter that breaks out.

„You’ll want to be prepared for the next lesson“, Mrs. Williams adds, putting a special emphasis on prepared, but you’re not sure how many people besides yourself have heard her. Eddie certainly hasn’t, because he slides up next to you with a grin on his face.

„So“, he says, watching as you tack your notes into your folder, before stuffing your folder and your textbook into your backpack, „what do you think?“

„About having to study for a maths test on top of studying for that physics test on Friday and working on my history presentation which I have to do next Monday? Yeah, it’ll be fun“, you say, though you know that’s not what Eddie meant. You’re just not in a mood to talk about Harrington - or think about him yet again.

„Wait, what maths test?“, Eddie says ,frowning, as you slide your backpack over your shoulders.

„Oh Munson, you truly are a lost cause“, you tease.

„Hey!“, Eddie says, playfully jabbing your shoulder.

„We can study together again, if you’d like“, you offer and Eddie’s expression visibly softens.

„But only if you don’t try to confuse me even further with all your long-winded explanations again“, Eddie says, grinning.

„Long-winded? I’m just trying - „

„Miss. Y/L/N, if I could please have a word with you“, Mrs. Williams says, just as you and Eddie are passing her desk. You stop, shooting Eddie a panicked look, before turning around to face your teacher.

Is this about your conversation with Eddie in class? But why does she only want to talk to you, and not Eddie as well? Chancing a glance at Eddie, you can see him looking at you, shrugging, as if to say fuck if I know what she wants.

„And you too, Mr. Harrington please“, Mrs. Williams says, just as Steve Harrington is making his way to the door. He stops in his tracks and walks back to Mrs. William’s desk, the confused expression on his face mirroring your own bewilderment.

What could Mrs. Williams possibly want to say to you and Steve Harrington?

For a moment, your eyes meet Harrington’s brown ones. You notice how much warmer his eyes seem, now that the blankness is gone from his gaze. Briefly, you wonder if his eyes have always been that deep, soft chocolate brown, until you mentally shake your head at yourself. This is Steve Harrington - the guy who relentlessly made fun of you in middle school, not to mention the scrunchie incident or, worse yet, the food tray incident on your first day at Hawkins Middle School.

His eyes may be beautiful, but the rest of him, especially the inside, isn’t.

„Mr. Munson, I will see you again on Friday“, Mrs. Williams pointed voice startles you out of your thoughts and you blink, hastily redirecting your gaze to Eddie and Mrs. Williams.

„You’d do well to work through chapters nine to twelve of your textbook until then“, Mrs. Williams adds, raising her eyebrows at Eddie.

Eddie nods, ignoring the help me! you mouth at him. „Sure“, is all he says, grinning, before mouthing a see you later in your direction and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with Steve Harrington and Mrs. Williams.

„You’re probably wondering why I want to talk to you both“, Mrs. Williams says, once Chrissy Cunningham and Jason Carver have left the room as well.

You both nod.

„Well“, Mrs. Williams says, sighing, before looking at Harrington, „Mr. Harrington, I think we both know that you’ll have a tough time getting into college if your grades won’t pick up again.“

Harrington just nods, running a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more, but you can see the color flaring up his cheeks. And even though you’ve spent a decade cursing his existence, you can’t help but feel bad for him in this moment. If you were going through a tough phase, your grades as bad as Harrington’s apparently are, you wouldn’t want your teacher to discuss it with another student either.

„I’ve talked to your other teachers, and you’re close to failing physics and chemistry as well. If you want to get into college, you need to turn your grades around now, Mr. Harrington.“

„Yes, I - I’m aware, Mrs. Williams“, Harrington says in a small voice.

Your eyes flit back and forth between Harrington and Mrs. Williams, wondering what all of that has to do with you.

As if she’s read your thoughts, Mrs. Williams turns around to face you, leveling her piercing stare at you. „As it just so happens, these are exactly the subjects Y/N excels at“, Mrs. Williams says and your eyes widen in shock.

Surely she can’t mean -

„I think you’d both benefit greatly from you tutoring Steve, Y/N“, Mrs. Williams says and it takes a moment for the words to truly sink in. When they do, you bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from saying - no, shouting - no! immediately.

„But - but why?“, you say instead, ignoring Harrington’s burning gaze.

„The freshmen you’ve tutored so far have all benefited greatly from it“, Mrs. Williams says, completely unfazed by the matching shocking expressions on your and Harrington’s faces. „You’d also earn a lot of extra credit from it. And, if Mr. Harrington’s grades really were to improve, it would guarantee you a place in Bloomington’s Students Research team next spring. I’ve already spoken to Dr. Greene, the research coordinator, and she’s agreed to give you a spot on next spring’s team if Mr. Harrington’s grades improve.“

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, trying very hard not to look at Harrington. You don’t know what to say to Mrs. Williams. You were more than ready to say no to her suggestion, even to turn down her offer of extra credit, but now that she’s dangling a guaranteed spot on Bloomington’s Students Research team in front of you, you don’t know what to do.

You’ve been dreaming of a spot on one of Bloomington’s Students Research team ever since you were a little kid. You’ve always loved science and the idea behind the research teams - twenty high school juniors and seniors from all over Indiana coming together at Bloomington’s for two weeks, researching and experimenting with renowned scientists. Anyone who’s ever been on one of these teams is basically guaranteed a spot at a renowned university later on.

You’d give anything for a spot on one of these annual research teams - or so you’ve always said. Eddie and Robin always tease you in a friendly way for your ambition and Robin’s jokingly told you once or twice to be careful what you wish for.

And now, here you are: the one thing you’ve always wished for being offered to you on a silver platter - but with Steve Harrington, the bane of your existence, attached to it.

At least one thing is for certain, you think as you nervously play with the hem of your shirt: Eddie and Robin are going to have a fucking blast when you tell them about this conversation later. You can just imagine their reactions, Robin will probably try to be serious, but dissolve into laughter the moment she sees your done in expression and Eddie -

„So, what do you say?“, Mrs. Williams says, startling you out of your thoughts.

„Sure“, Harrington says, shrugging, „if Y/N’s in, I’m in as well.“ Your eyes widen in shock and you can’t help but glance at Harrington, who’s looking at you with an expression in his chocolate brown eyes that you can’t quite decipher.

You hastily glance away again, clearing your throat, trying to pretend as if it hasn’t affected you at all that this is probably the first time in years that Steve Harrington has called you by your real name. You’re not sure if he’s ever actually called you by your first name, in middle school he only ever called you names like Einstein, Curie or nerd and when he thankfully stopped relentlessly teasing you and bothering you with his presence in high school, he only ever called you by your last name - not that you two ever had much to say to each other.

„I - „ you say, the word heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat, glancing at Mrs. Williams and then at Harrington. Mrs. Williams is looking at you expectantly, but you still can’t quite decipher the look in Harrington’s eyes. If you didn’t know better - if this wasn’t Steve Harrington, the boy relentlessly making fun of you in middle school, you’re talking about - you’d almost say that he looks vulnerable, afraid even. But of what? Of you rejecting Mrs. Williams’ offer?

„I - uh … „, you say again, and now you’re aware that you’re stalling, but you can’t help it. You really don’t know what to do - you want to be on the research team more than anything, but are you really willing to go through the nightmare that tutoring Harrington is for sure going to be for that?

Looking at Harrington again - who is running a hand through his stupid hair yet again - you decide to fuck it. You’re not going to pass up on this amazing opportunity just because of Harrington.

Trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach - what if he immediately becomes the mean boy from middle school, once you two are out of your teachers’ eyes, again? What if there is a repeat of the scrunchie incident? What if he immediately starts pointing out all your fears and insecurities again? - you turn to look at Mrs. Williams.

Doing your best to ignore Harrington’s burning gaze, you say: „Sure, I’m in.“

Mrs. Williams smiles. „Wonderful!“

You force yourself to smile back at her, although you can’t help but feel as if you’ve just made a deal with the devil.

„Uh, why do you look as if you’re ready to kill someone?“, Robin asks you cautiously, raising her eyebrows at you.

„Wait, who’s getting killed?“, Eddie asks, not bothering to look up from his notebook in which he scribbles down anything D&D related. You’ve often thought that if he even cared half as much about schoolwork as he does about anything D&D related, he’d have no trouble at all getting good grades.

„Let me guess - Harrington?“, Robin says and you can’t help but scowl as you sit down next to her and Eddie at the library table. You three always meet up on Tuesday afternoons to study together, though more often than not you just end up chatting about whatever’s on your mind, not getting all that much actual studying done.

„Harrington?“, Eddie says, closing his notebook, his interest immediately piqued. „Wait, you still haven’t told me what Mrs. Williams wanted to talk to you and Harrington about!“, he adds accusatory, leaning forward to look at you.

You frown.

It’s not your fault that after your conversation with Mrs. Williams, Harrington held you up until break was over, making you late for your last class of the day. You two walked out of Mrs. Williams’ classroom together, a heavy, uncomfortable silence between you. The moment the door to Mrs. Williams’ classroom had fallen shut behind you, you’d turned to go, not wanting to spend another moment longer in Harrington’s presence. You were already regretting agreeing to Mrs. Williams’ offer.

„Y/N, wait, please“, Harrington had said in a small voice and you’d turned around to see him looking at you with a vulnerable expression in his brown eyes.

„What?“, you’d said in the most unpleasant voice you could muster, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Though it has been years since Harrington last teased you and called you names in middle school, you immediately felt like that helpless, vulnerable little kid again. You even took a step back, unconsciously touching your hair, as if you were just waiting for a repeat of the scrunchie incident.

„I just - look, I know that you don’t like me“, Harrington had said and you couldn’t help but snort at his words. I know you don’t likeme was one way to describe the years of bottled-up resentment and anger you felt towards Harrington for all these moments in which he made you feel small and stupid.

„I just - I … „, Harrington paused, seemingly put off by your reaction. You only raised your eyebrows at him and he gulped. „I - I know that there are probably a thousand other things you’d rather be doing, and I totally get that, but - I mean, I know how much the Bloomington research teams mean to you and I … „, he paused again, running a hand through his hair again, mussing it up even more.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the action - Harrington and his stupid hair -, though you had to wonder how Harrington knew about Bloomington. You sure as hell had never mentioned it to him. Maybe he’d just overheard you and Eddie and Robin talking about it.

„And I’d totally understand if you don’t want to do this after all“, Harrington said, awkwardly gesturing between you and him. „But, uh - I guess I just wanted to say that I’d totally get it if you don’t want to do this, but that I’d also be incredibly grateful if you do decide to, uh, help me out. And I - I’m not going to stand in the way of you and Bloomington.“

„Um, okay?“, was all you could think of saying. You’d never seen Steve Harrington act so insecure - rambling, nervously glancing at you, running his hands through his hair.

„I just - I wanted you to know that I’m not the same kid I was in middle school“, Harrington said, looking at you with an intensity in his brown eyes that almost made you shiver.

„Uh, hello, earth to Y/N, you still with us?“, Robin’s voice, and her waving her hand in front of your face, brings you back to the present.

„What - oh, yeah“, you say, trying to push the memory of your conversation with Steve away. After his awkward declaration of not being the same mean bully he’d been in middle school anymore, there’d been another moment of awkward silence between you two, until Harrington had cleared his throat and asked you when you’d have time for tutoring sessions. Just when the bell had started to ring, you’d finally agreed on Thursday and Friday afternoons, and late Monday mornings every other week.

„So?“, Eddie asks you pointedly, „what did Mrs. Williams want?“

„Please don’t remind me“, you say, burying your head in your hands, but when Robin pats you on the shoulder, it all comes rushing out of you in seconds.

„And now I’m stuck with having to tutor Harrington for who knows how long!“, you finish, sighing frustratedly. Robin and Eddie both look at you with sympathetic expressions on their faces, but you can see the smile tugging at the corners of Eddie’s lips. This isn’t the first time you’ve vented about Steve Harrington to them and with the prospect of you having to tutor him at least twice a week, it sure as hell won’t be the last.

„How on earth did I deserve this?“, you whine, wanting to revel in your self-pity for a moment longer, but then Eddie starts laughing.

You glower at him and Eddie tries his best to contain his laughter, pressing his knuckles to his mouth. „I’m sorry, it’s just - you? Tutoring Harrington?“, Eddie says, with a shit-eating grin on his face.

„It’s not like it was my idea, Munson“, you say, scowling, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Eddie laughs. „I know. I’m just wondering how long it’ll take until you’ll try to strangle him.“

The Bloomington’s Students Research team is something I made up, as I needed a reason for the reader to agree to tutor Steve, even though she immensely dislikes him in the beginning of the story. (I am going to explore the history between Steve and the reader in more detail. Just not immediately.) Also, the American High School system is kinda (a lot, tbh) confusing to me, so please feel free to tell me / correct me if I messed anything up here!

divider credit: @delishlydelightfuldividers

taglist: @ahqkas @justpeachy46 @reedusteinrambles @manuosorioh @liberhoe @sunflowerharrington

Likes are appreciated, but feedback and reblogs make me really happy! <3

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rose-n-gunses · 1 year

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eddie calling chrissy pet names>>>

#sweetheart honey baby #pretty girl #DARLIN'#anyways i love them #hellcheer #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #stranger things #just r's thoughts

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discoscoob · 2 years

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The official ST account is ratioing Chrissy antis now, we love to see it.

#chrissy cunningham #there’s literally no valid reason to hate her character #she’s such a sweetheart #and never did anything wrong #‘she had 5 minutes screentime get over her’#the internet literally thirsts over a scarred animated fish #that was a random point but you get my point #let people enjoy things #we love chrissy #we love grace #grace van dien #y’all just ugly and jealous

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263adder · 2 years

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#justiceforchrissy

#chrissy cunningham #stranger things season 4 #st4 vol1 #justice for barb #she should’ve lived 😭#justice for chrissy #look at this sweetheart

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strawbearri-frog · 2 years

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Literal girlfriendism <3

#chrissy cunningham #chrissy stranger things #chrissy <3 #st #stranger things #stranger things fanart #strangerthings #chrissy cunningham fanart #i love her so much #she is my baby girl. my sweetheart. my bestie #Kye arts #🍓

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girlsofhawkins · 2 years

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Into the night || closed

@musesoftheupsidedown

Chrissy was out at a party. She had gotten used them around town and had to continue keeping up appearances. She had her hair down and wearing a nice dress when she was talking with her manager. And that was when she felt a pair of eyes on her. She knew that it was going to be elite people form around the music scene as well. That is why the face and bright smile broke from her lips. Not even excusing herself she walked right over to Eddie. She leaned over to kiss at his cheek. “You really did it rock star. I thought that I heard Corroded Coffin was going to be here. . . I hoped to see you again. Not sure if you really remember me at all.” She felt again like she was a teenager seeing his face. Those eyes and the smile just made her weak in the knees all over again. She bit at her lip as she looked down and back up. “I am sure you have all the ladies wanting to talk to you.” She spoke sheepishly. Normally she was more bubbly and out going. But seeing this guy that she did like back in high school. “Now he the star and the one that all the girls seemed to fawn over. And she was the old high school crush that seemed like she was out of his league.

#musesoftheupsidedown #c; chrissy cunningham #v; rockstar and his highschool sweetheart

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originalstar1 · 1 year

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Oh yess I met Daddy Hopper yesterday ! And had a autograph with Chrissy!

She called me a Elf Princess and a cool dork xxx she's super sweet !!!

Got pics with sweetheart ❤��

And Jamie was handing out sweets!!!!! (He sold out but at least I was by him)

Comiccon !

#stranger things #chrissy cunningham #jim hopper #comiccon #jamie cambell bower #sweetheart

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msgexymunson · 2 months

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Highest Bidder

Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him?

Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl)

A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day.

Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know.

7k words

Masterlist

“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview.

The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same.

The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.

Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.

It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you.

So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing.

You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie.

Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked.

What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities.

“Hey sweetheart, am I late?”

When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.

“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.”

He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face.

“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.”

Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged.

‘It's nothing, just a dress.”

“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”

His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back.

“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?”

After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!”

The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.

“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”

After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience.

“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!”

As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.

No. Your friend. Just a friend.

“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?”

“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him.

“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?”

“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh.

“Fifty dollars!”

The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air.

“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?”

Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward.

“One hundred dollars!”

Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham.

She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten.

But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels.

You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face.

“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?”

The man at the back called out, “right here!”

Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid.

“One thirty!”

It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.

“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy.

The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him.

He's yours.

Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here.

It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer.

At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand.

“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!”

Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering.

“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”

He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you.

“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin.

“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes.

“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?”

He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie.

“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.”

Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him.

“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?”

“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?”

Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down.

“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?”

Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”

He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual.

You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her.

“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.”

She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.”

Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone.

“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.”

He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.

“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-”

You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared.

“-nevermind. Thank you.”

As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves.

“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?”

As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind.

“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back.

“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.”

You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg.

“Woof! Woo-”

“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you.

As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table.

“What are you doing?”

Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie.

“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?”

As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.

“This isn't a date, Eds.”

Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks.

“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest.

As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes.

“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?”

A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise.

“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation.

“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.”

“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck.

“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.”

As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Let's get out of here.”

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences.

Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye.

“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.”

Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours.

“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?”

His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings.

“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”

Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee.

“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again.

“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?”

Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.

“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.”

He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine.

“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.”

You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety.

“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.”

“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession.

“Absolutely not.”

“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”

“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?”

You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain.

“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”

“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.”

“What else would I do?”

He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-”

“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.”

“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.”

Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts.

“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?”

“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.”

Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee.

“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind.

“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.”

“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.”

“I dated Wendy to get over you!”

Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means.

“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip.

“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?”

It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut.

It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side.

Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back.

So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips.

“I'm in love with you.”

It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly.

“Huh?”

“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”

You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.

“Eddie, you lied.”

“What? I'm telling the truth I-”

“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.”

Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge.

The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth.

“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.”

There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss.

Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for-

“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.”

You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life.

The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin.

“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.”

A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor.

“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms.

A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face.

“You are so beautiful.”

Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away.

“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned.

“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.”

Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second.

“Can we go to my bedroom?”

Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart.

“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties.

“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back.

The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso.

Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are.

“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?”

He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.”

The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least.

“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.”

“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.”

You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away.

“Do I need to put a towel down?”

“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.”

He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face.

“You want me to stay?”

“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.”

The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything.

“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form.

“Hmm?”

“Get the towel.”

Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns.

“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.

“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact.

“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck.

“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot.

Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple.

“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.”

You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there.

As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten.

“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment.

“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?”

“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy.

“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.”

“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh.

“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?”

Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard.

“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch.

He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring.

Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling.

“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”

Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot.

“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!”

He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to? You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if-

“Hey, sweetheart, you here?”

He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question.

“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-”

“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”

“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-”

“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.”

His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you.

“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”

“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.”

Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips.

“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.”

Sweet. You sound sweet.

In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment.

There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion.

“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!”

He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.

It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair.

He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed.

The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down.

“Now are you glad I said about the towel?”

Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you.

Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.

“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.”

Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear.

“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused.

“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.”

“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.”

The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him.

It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again.

“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.”

He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk.

“Now that's not fair sweetheart.”

You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince.

“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut.

“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.”

“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-”

He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes.

Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction.

“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?”

Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire.

“I-I'll try.”

“That's it, atta girl, little more.”

Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in.

“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!”

“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”

A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks.

“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.”

Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.

“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.”

Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving.

“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head.

“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?”

Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again.

“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.”

Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet.

“Eddie, I lo-”

“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?”

You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him.

“Oh my God, baby, oh God!”

You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem.

“Right there princess?”

Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan.

“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.”

Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back.

“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily.

“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts.

It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire.

“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.”

Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse.

Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness.

“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.”

He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye.

“Eddie, that was perfect.”

He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time.

“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”

Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling.

“OK, now I'm really gonna go.”

You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind.

“Right, now, just hang on.”

With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat.

“I can change the sheets if you want-”

“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.”

Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief.

“Eddie? Can I say it now?”

You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening.

“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.”

“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.”

The smile in his voice makes you smile too.

“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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eddiernunson · 22 days

Text

I Can Do it With a Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW

NOW POSTED

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Excerpt here:

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be this gorgeous, it’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”

He dusts the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to class its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tilted floors and fall into the depths of hell.

“She asked you out?”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per say. But a sweet girl like Chrissy, one that bore pretty blonde curls, a sweet smile and a sweet disposition, this is like your worst nightmare come true.

Thanks to the notion of living in a small town, you could recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, watching in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?”

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this isn’t a new habit of his.

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you tried to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what is probably another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.

You smoked more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.

Final word count is about 24k so I think I'll post on the 15 to give my editor a fighting chance. If you want to be tagged let me know <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut

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steviesbicrisis · 8 months

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Steve’s best relationship wasn’t even a relationship. He could barely call it a fling, a flirt. They never even went on a date. They never kissed.

Steve still thinks of it as the best whatever-it-is he has ever had with someone.

At the beginning it was mostly infuriating, how quickly Eddie managed to win the kids over, compared to Steve’s months of work as babysitter/nailbat swinger/monster fighter. Steve had to literally bleed multiple times to get an ounce of respect, Eddie only had to run a nerdy club about fictional bleeding and monster-fighting.

Then somehow, and Steve still has trouble pinpointing when and how it happened, everything changed.

Taking the kids back home from hellfire became something he impatiently waited for.

He and Eddie would barely talk for a few minutes and he would find himself replaying the conversation in his head for days. Anything he could say to get a reaction out of Eddie became fundamental, and if he started by picking subjects to piss him off, he ended learning about Eddie’s favorites, because few minutes after hellfire were never enough and Steve needed Eddie to talk as much as possible, until the kids were begging to drop it and go home.

Steve never questioned the change, most likely out of fear. He doesn’t think he ever was clueless, just really scared about what would potentially mean to be staring at another dude’s eyelashes as he goes on a rant about why Ozzy Osbourne is the best artist of his generation. Or blush whenever said dude would call him “baby”, or “sweetheart”.

Steve convinced himself that the thing he and Eddie were having was as good as it was going to get, nothing more.

Then Chrissy Cunningham died, Eddie ran, and Steve realized that the thing will never be enough for him.

He couldn’t not have Eddie. Not watch him as he entertains a bunch of freshmen, as he stomps with his worn out sneakers on top of forniture, as he puts his terrible music on to push away anyone who doesn’t care enough about him to stay.

Steve needed to see Eddie being alive, doing what his heart desires, and he needed to be next to him when he does.

Obviously, this realization came at the worst possible time.

Steve tried to tell him so many times: when they found him at the boathouse, when he was hiding at refer Rick’s house, when they were taking a stroll in the upside down, and even when they were driving a stolen trailer to a gunshop.

But, it seemed, Eddie had come to a realization just as important and he tried his best to avoid Steve at every given chance.

Steve tried to initiate the conversation as Eddie did his best to run away from it. And he ran until Steve had no chances left to tell him how he actually felt.

———

Steve doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say he lost something he never had. To mourn a relationship he never began. A partner that, technically, never became a partner.

After Eddie dies, Steve has no one to be next to but he can’t say he ever did.

Steve just exists waiting. He can’t tell if he’s waiting for the pain to go away or for Eddie to jump out of a bush and yell “ah! I got you sucker!! By the way, I’m in love with you too.”

For obvious reasons, that never happens.

What does happen, is a call.

It’s a normal Tuesday, as normal as you could define it after Hawkins almost collapsed into the upside down. Steve got into a routine, between checking on the ones at the hospital, helping out at the shelter, allowing Robin to check on him to see if he’s still alive.

The call happens while Robin is doing her kitchen check up - aka making sure he has food and that he’s eating it-, so she picks the phone like she did a million times before.

“Harrington residence, this is Robin” she says, cheerfully.

Steve doesn’t pay much attention to it as he’s folding his dad’s old clothes that intends to donate to the shelter, until he hears Robin’s loud gasp.

“What is it? Is it the hospital? Is it Max?” He rushes to the other room where Robin is.

She doesn’t answer but she gives him a look as she passes him the receiver.

Steve goes quiet, a million thoughts going through his head as he takes the phone from Robin.

He’s still unprepared when he hears that unmistakable voice “Baby”.

Steve gasps for breath “Eddie?”

Is that really you? What happened? Are you hurt? Isn’t this impossible? Is what goes on in Steve’s head, but he ends up just asking “are you okay?”

He can hear a chuckle, Eddie’s wicked chuckle, a further confirmation that it is him, “I’m- hanging in there… are you okay?”

Steve finds the question absurd. He isn’t the one who got left in the upside down, the one that got eaten by demonic bats, the one who died before Steve had the chance to tell him how he felt.

He answers truthfully nonetheless, “I’m… I’m not okay.”

“I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Please Eddie, come quick.”

“I’ll break the sound barrier for you.”

#if you can’t tell #im in my RWRB era #if you watched the movie then you might like this?#just felt inspired honestly #that ‘baby’ lives inside my head rent free #also Kas Eddie we always love to see him #basically Eddie and Steve got close during the school year but Steve realized his feelings only during the events of season 4 #Eddie dies but comes back #because this is the only way I can cope with it #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #platonic stobin #robin buckley

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asbealthgn · 1 year

Text

(based on this post. it ended up longer + less lighthearted than i anticipated)

The ding as the microwave timer finishes lines up perfectly with a frantic pounding on the front door, and it makes Steve jump.

He just got home from the championship game twenty minutes ago. Now he’s heating up a TV dinner because he forgot to eat beforehand. He spends about one and a half seconds dithering over whether he should get the tray out of the microwave before or after answering the door, but the pounding has only gotten louder. So he leaves it where it is.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he mutters as he heads for the front door. “Goddamn.”

When he opens the door he barely even has time to process that it’s Eddie before the other man is tumbling inside, jetting out of sight back towards the kitchen.

“Eds?” Steve calls after him, shutting the door and locking it. “What’s wrong?”

There’s no answer. Back in the kitchen, Steve can’t see Eddie at first. Then he hears the shallow breathing coming from under the table. Steve leans over and sees Eddie curled up there, arms wrapped tight around his knees, eyes wild.

“Baby, what happened?” Steve asks. He gets on the floor and crawls under the table, pushing a chair out of the way so he can sit next to Eddie. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him in. Eddie’s shaking like crazy and as he leans into Steve, his shallow breaths turn into sobs.

At a loss for what else he can do, Steve strokes Eddie’s hair, murmuring soothing things in his ear. He doesn’t know what caused this, but he’ll do everything he can to make it better. Eventually, Eddie’s sobbing subsides and his breathing evens out. He’s still shaking, but this is progress.

He lifts his head and looks at Steve. His eyes are puffy and red, cheeks streaked with tears. Steve brushes them away, tucking a lock of Eddie’s hair behind his ears. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?” he asks softly, “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I—” Eddie says, eyes welling up again. “I don’t—” He shakes his head sharply.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Steve says, “You don’t have to.”

Eddie shakes his head again and takes a shuddery breath. “I don’t understand what happened,” he says, voice strained. “It was like—shit from a movie. It shouldn’t be possible.”

Something about that is a cold drop of fear in Steve’s belly. Impossible things that happen in Hawkins are never short of catastrophic.

“What was it?” he asks.

“She—she started lifting and—and breaking—”

“Who?”

“Chrissy,” Eddie whispers, voice tiny and fragile.

Steve rubs a hand up and down his arm, trying to transfer comfort through his fingertips. “Cunningham?”

Eddie nods. Steve sort of knew Chrissy when he was still in school, only because she was on the cheer squad so they ran in similar circles. He thought she was sweet, but didn’t really know her that well other than that. He definitely didn’t know that she and Eddie knew each other.

“So—” Steve shifts. “When you say breaking—”

Eddie lets out a distressed sound, somewhere between a whimper and a sob. “I don’t know how else to explain it,” he croaks, shaking his head. “It was like someone was pulling on her, lifting her up, and—I don’t know how, Steve, because there was nothing touching her but she just lifted off the ground and then—all her bones—”

He cuts off as the tears take over again. Steve holds him tight as he cries, his own dread pooling in his stomach. This definitely sounds like some Upside Down shit. He needs Dustin, or Robin. Someone who can investigate this and figure out what’s happening. But for now, Steve can hold his boyfriend, do what he can to help.

When Eddie’s breathing starts evening out, he lifts his head off Steve’s shoulder. “The cops—they’re gonna think I did it,” he whispers, “I—I don’t know what to do, I don’t—”

“Eds, breathe,” Steve says, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re safe here. No one knows we’re together, so they won’t come looking for you here. You can hide out here until we can clear your name.”

“But—how is that even possible?” Eddie asks, eyes wide. “What happened—no one will believe me. I don’t know why the fuck you even believe me.”

Steve nods. “I can’t really explain it, like, literally, I don’t know how to, but this kind of thing has sort of happened before,” he says. He takes Eddie’s hand and squeezes it. “There are people who are smarter than me who can help. I promise.”

Eddie keeps watching him with those big eyes.

“Do you trust me, Eds?” Steve asks softly. After a moment, Eddie nods. Steve smiles. “Good,” he says. He kisses Eddie’s forehead. “We’ll figure it out.”

After a while, he coaxes Eddie out from under the table and sends him upstairs to change into pajamas. Steve takes Eddie’s keys and goes outside to pull his van into the garage. Dad’s car is currently at the airport, so there’s an empty space. If this is still going on when his parents get home in three weeks then he’ll just have to figure something else out.

Back inside, he spares another second and a half’s thought to the TV dinner still languishing in the microwave. It’ll have to wait. His boy is more important.

He takes the stairs two at a time, only slowing when he hits his room so he can ease the door open. Eddie is in bed, curled up under the covers, staring blankly at the wall. Steve changes quickly into pajamas and then gets in bed next to Eddie, pulling him into his arms.

“You’re safe, Eds,” he murmurs against Eddie’s hair. “I promise.”

The problem is, he can’t really promise anything. If the Upside Down is open again, Steve can’t guarantee anyone’s safety. He thought it was over, that the gate was closed for good when Joyce blew up the Russian machine. He thought he could keep Eddie away from this dark and twisted world. But if Eddie has to be dragged into it, then Steve will do everything he can to make Eddie feel safe.

They fall asleep clinging tight to each other, like maybe it’ll stave off the shadows.

“Hey!”

Steve looks away from the TV at Family Video to see Dustin and Max barging through the door. “Steve,” Dustin says as they approach the counter.

“Did you guys see this?” Steve asks, gesturing to the TV. He’s not sure he can reveal how much he actually knows without revealing how he knows it, but it’s definitely important to get the kids aware that the Upside Down could be involved.

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin asks, completely ignoring the news broadcast.

“Someone was murdered,” Steve says.

Dustin gives him an exasperated look. “How many phones do you have?” he repeats.

The hell is this about? “Uh, two,” Steve says, glancing at Robin. She looks just as lost as he feels. “Why?”

“Technically three if you count Keith’s in the back,” she adds.

Max and Dustin share a significant look. “Yeah, three works,” Max says.

Nodding, Dustin slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it on the counter. Steve frowns. “What are you doing?” he asks just as Dustin shoves the backpack hard, sending it tumbling to the floor inside the counter along with several tapes. “Whoa, what are you—”

“My pile!” Robin shouts as they back away and Dustin launches himself over the counter.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Steve says, throwing his hands up as Dustin’s feet knock over another stack of tapes. “Not my tapes!” Dustin completely ignores him, heading straight for the computer. “Dude! What are you doing, man?”

“Setting up base of operations,” Dustin says matter-of-factly, typing away on the keyboard.

“Base of operations?” Robin asks as Max joins them behind the counter, having gone the long way around.

“Stop,” Steve tells Dustin, “Get off of that.”

Dustin doesn’t budge. “No,” he says, “I need it.”

“Need it for what?”

“Looking up Eddie’s friends' phone numbers.”

Steve’s stomach drops. What the hell does he know about Eddie? Why does he need to get in touch with his friends? Shit, Max lives across from Eddie at the trailer park. Maybe she saw something. Maybe they think Eddie’s guilty.

“Seriously, guys,” Robin says, collecting tapes and rearranging them on the counter. “Maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day.”

“Alright, look, Robin,” Dustin says, putting up a finger in her direction but not turning around. “I totally empathize but this cannot wait until Monday.”

“What, ‘cause calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?” Robin asks.

“Correct!” Dustin says.

Shit shit shit. What do they know? Steve needs to get them the hell out of here before they decide to go calling the cops on Eddie.

“Do you want me to strangle them or do you want to do that?” Steve asks Robin, trying to distract himself from his panic.

She grins at him. “We could take turns.”

Dustin turns to Max. “Can you just fill them in while I do this?”

“Fill us in on what?” Robin asks. She and Steve both turn to look at Max, who sighs.

“We think there might be something going on with the Upside Down,” she says.

Steve feels Robin’s hand shoot out and lock around his wrist. He glances at her and sees the panic on her face. Weirdly, all he feels is relief. So Max and Dustin’s investigation is about the Upside Down, not about accusing Eddie. That’s definitely positive, all things considered.

Max glances at Dustin and then back at Steve and Robin. “The murder happened right across the street from me,” she says, “The girl that got murdered was Chrissy Cunningham, and I saw her going in with Eddie. Honestly, he might be guilty, but the lights were flickering around when it would have happened. And when he left, he looked terrified.”

Yeah, Steve can vouch for that. Who wouldn’t be?

“So, we’re trying to track down Eddie to find out what really happened,” Max says, gesturing to Dustin. “We need to use your system and your phones to call around and see if anyone’s heard from him.”

Steve swallows. “Uh, that might not be necessary,” he says.

“I know you have a weird vendetta against him,” Dustin says, not looking away from the computer as he keeps typing, “But it is imperative that we find Eddie immediately.”

“No, I get that,” Steve says, sighing. “I’m saying I know where he is.”

Dustin stops typing and turns around. “What?” he asks, looking dumbfounded. “How?”

Steve scratches the back of his neck. No taking it back now, he guesses. “He, uh, came to my house last night,” he says, “That’s where he went after Max saw him leave.”

“Did he tell you what happened?” Max asks.

“Sort of,” Steve says, “He was really upset, obviously, so he couldn’t really—”

Dustin waves his hands frantically. “Hold on, wait,” he says, shaking his head. “I thought you and Eddie didn’t even know each other. Now suddenly you’re close enough that he went to your house?”

“Long story?” Steve offers weakly.

Robin nudges him with her elbow and gives him a significant look. “One that I would really like to hear,” she hisses. Okay, so she’s on to him. Maybe that’s not so surprising; they basically share a brain. And he came out to her a few months ago, so the pieces are all there.

At the very least, the kids accept that Steve and Eddie know each other and abandon their ridiculous scheme to call all of Eddie’s friends. They want to go to Steve’s house right away to talk to Eddie, but Steve refuses to drive them until his and Robin’s shift is over. They threaten to bike there, but Steve eventually manages to convince them that there’s no way in hell Eddie is opening the door for anyone.

So once their shift wraps up, Steve, Robin, and the kids bundle into the Beemer so he can take them back to his house. He’s apprehensive about this, not sure exactly how Eddie will react. But he knows Dustin well and will probably recognize Robin and Max by sight, so surely he’ll know Steve didn’t bring strangers around. Right?

He parks in the driveway on the off chance that someone drives by at the exact wrong moment and sees Eddie’s car in the garage. Urging the others to be gentle, Steve unlocks the front door.

“Eddie!” he calls, not wanting to worry him with the sound of the door. “It’s me!”

“Hi!” Eddie’s voice calls from the kitchen, sounding significantly less distressed than he did this morning. “Baby, did you know you left a TV dinner in the microwave?”

He appears in the entryway looking soft and a little rumpled in a pair of Steve’s sweatpants and a green crewneck. His eyes widen in surprise and horror as he sees the others, but their heads have all snapped to look at Steve. Dustin’s eyes in particular are bugging out of his skull.

“Did he just call you baby?”

#everyone take bets on whether they try to play it off or own up to it #never used a TV dinner as a motif before that's a first for me #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet

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