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sp0o0kylights · 4 months

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Part One

Hellfire did in fact, have cookies to sell.

More than cookies, which Dustin practically preened over when Eddie dragged himself back to their table.

The ornaments they had made were still there, but now the centerpiece was an array of baked goods. Spread out in a spiral, it started from the large cake in the center and spun out into miniature cookies held in tiny decorated bags, all while Harrington stood over them like a proud parent.

It smelled mockingly delicious.

Eddie glared at the display, resisting the urge to upend the whole thing onto the floor.

Cookies and cakes and (--was that frickin bread pudding?) whatever other treats Harrington had shown up with might look good, but Eddie didn’t trust it.

Didn’t trust Harrington, even if the bastard had never really done anything himself--but then, he never had to, had he?

That was the point of all that money, after all. So he could pay other people to do his dirty work while he kept his hands squeaky clean.

“Inch a bit to the left--there, stop!” Harrington was saying, like the bossy asshole he was.

Like he thought he could just come in and expect everyone to follow his lead.

“Perfect! Now don’t touch it.”

God, Eddie had to nip this in the butt, now. Before King Horrorton harassed his sheep all day, and cemented the club's undeserved bad name in the minds of Hawkins.

“Dustin what did I just say--”

Eddie stepped up to the front of their table, preparing himself for war. Looked over to his friends knowing they'd likely need a nod of reassurance. A show from him that said he had this handled.

There was no cowering.

No pleading, helpless, 'What do we do Eddie!?' gazes aimed his direction.

Hellfire wasn’t even looking at him, and not because they were all avoiding Harrington's line of sight.

No, the fucking traiters were flanking the King. Like they were buddies with the bastard instead of mortal enemies.

“Hey, Ed’s, Harrington brought pies. Cakes too!” Gareth said around a mouthful of said cookie when he noticed Eddie standing before him.

It came out a garbled mess, but years of experience had Eddie understanding him anyway.

Jeff was busy playing what sounded like twenty fucking questions regarding the setup, and even Grant appeared comfortable, happily letting Harrington order him around as they finished setting up.

Like this was some kind of cutesy Disney movie where they all held hands and sang songs instead of a hostile takeover situation.

Eddie’s eye twitched.

Sensing a disturbance in the force, Jeff looked up and immediately interrupted himself to point to a series of red and green cookies placed dead center, delighted.

“Check it out man, Steve made some shaped like dice!”

(And he did say ‘Steve.’

Not Harrington, or This Asshole, or The Invading Evil Forces of Darkness.

Just Steve, like Steve was someone Jeff hung out with everyday.

Jeff’s cleric was a dead elf walking.)

Eddie took note of what was in fact, dice cookies.

He hated how good they looked.

“There’s four flavors.” Steve told him, cocky little grin on his face as he observed his work. “Chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and the dice ones are sugar cookies.”

He licked his lips before finally turning to look at Eddie, hair curling over his face and making him wave a hand to brush them out of his eyes.

Eddie hated how good he looked too.

‘Hate, hate, hate, absolutely loathe-’

“Great, sure, wonderful.” Eddie managed, though given the look Grant and Jeff both shot him it might have come out as more of a growl.

Dustin rolled his eyes, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice that Hellfire’s other two youngest hadn’t dared to show their faces yet.

Likely they knew Eddie was having an absolute meltdown over Steve’s presence and were waiting for his reaction to blow over.

(Their characters were dead too.)

“I have two full cakes--one chocolate, on vanilla--and a few individual slices we can sell.” Steve was continuing, as if Eddie wasn’t glaring a hole in his forehead. “Those did really well last year when I made them for the basketball team.”

Insults fought for space on Eddie’s tongue, but he managed to roll a 20 to pick the best one, opening his mouth to let it fly.

"Harr-" is as far as he got before he was rudely interrupted.

“Steve? Is that you?” A woman Eddie didn’t recognize but was clearly someone's mom came up cautiously to the table, side eyeing the Hellfire banner like a nervous horse. “That can’t be your famous tiramisu, is it?”

Steve beamed at her. “Well hi Miss Carpenter. It is!”

Eddie was bumped aside by a massive purse, the woman not even glancing in his direction as she stepped up to the table.

With a sneer, he finally slumped to the back of their little spot as Miss Carpenter looked over all Steve’s (not Hellfire’s and absolutely not Eddie’s) offerings.

Didn’t care to wipe it off right then, even if he knew he needed to if he wanted to make sales.

Jeff sent him a look.

The same one he usually aimed Eddie’s way when he thought Eddie’s antics were going to cause problems.

He ignored it, on grounds that traitors don’t get to be judgy.

“Oh,” Miss Caprtender tittered, the draw of Harrington’s baked goods clearly overcoming whatever fear she had about Hellfire. “Well I just can’t pass that up. The swim team meets aren’t the same without you!”

Eddie pretended to gag.

Waited for her to comment on Hellfire--their clothes, their music, hell even the length of Eddie’s hair--and found he was almost disappointed when there wasn't even a single question about Hawkins precious golden child was slumming it with the weirdos.

Instead, Miss Carpenter's hand went fishing in her purse for her wallet as she loudly called out over her shoulder, to presumably another annoying woman;

“Terry, Steve’s here! He’s been baking!”

For two terrifying seconds, there was a notable dip in the conversations around them.

Grant’s eyes went wide as several women responded to the announcement like dogs hearing food hit the floor, and within seconds their table was absolutely swarmed by the mothers of Hawkins.

Even Eddie’s eyes went wide at the sheer number of them.

“Hold, men, hold.” Dustin cautioned as Jeff and Grant both took a step back. “Come on, we need to get our gold!”

“They’re scary though.” Gareth whispered in horror as four women tried to talk at once, jostling each other so hard they shook the table menacingly.

“Ladies, ladies there’s enough here for everyone!” Steve laughed, showing off his disgustingly cute dimples as he did, getting several of the mom’s to blush at their own behavior in the process.

The sheer amount of attention of course, drew in even more people, and Dustin quickly took up directing, planting Jeff and Grant at either end of their table while he and Steve fended off the hoard from the front.

(Given the way he and Steve were equally ordering Hellfire around, Eddie finally knew where the little shit had picked that attitude up from. He was going to have to cure Dustin of it, ASAP. )

“Here you go Miss Harper.” Steve said sweetly, handing over yet another stack of baked goods.

Without turning his head, and in the tone of voice one used to warn a misbehaving dog, he added; “Gareth don’t think I can’t fucking see you, get back up here.”

Caught trying to sink under the table with another cookie in his mouth, Gareth found himself hauled back to his feet by his collar, putting a snarl on Eddie’s face immediately.

“Hey--” He started, defensive and more than ready to intercede, except Gareth wasn’t flinching or cursing or doing that thing he did with his mouth when he was desperately trying to hold in his temper.

Instead he was giving a sheepish grin and a half-assed apology while he hung in Harrington’s grasp, before doing what the guy told him to do.

(It did not help that Steve patted him on the shoulder when he released him, before handing Gareth a third fucking cookie.)

Eddie’s eye twitched a second time.

(He told it to knock it off.

It didn’t listen.)

No one acknowledged Eddie or his outburst, which meant he was just skulking behind the boys while they all worked.

Arms crossed, rings tapping a rhythm on his forearm, far too keyed up to do anything other than glare at the back of Harrington's skull.

The King seemed perfectly happy to ignore him.

Likewise, Gareth and Grant knew better than to bother him when he was in a snit.

Henderson made the occasional snappy little comment, but the brat had mostly left him alone now that they were well into the swing of selling, chortling over the increasing stack of cash Steve kept trying to get him to put into a “safe place.”

Eddie was seconds away from walking up and snatching the cash himself when Jeff decided it was on him to attempt the impossible.

Get him to help Harrington.

“More hands would be nice, Eddie!” Jeff called, looking more than a little harassed as the mom he was helping changed her order a second time, snaking out the last single slice of chocolate cake from another mom who was eyeing it. “Steve and I could really use your assistance over here!”

Eddie’s glare, which had been doing its level best to try and vaporize the King’s brain, switched targets instantly.

“I’m supervising.”

Jeff made a face like he was about to argue, but the King beat him to it.

“It must be tough,” Harrington said, tilting his head to look back towards Eddie, “to supervise people who are working so much harder than you.”

Which promptly set the mood for the next full hour.

xXx

Harrington was matching him tit for tat.

Every shitty, sneered word out of Eddie’s mouth was met with an equally mean toned barb, though given the repeated looks everyone kept shooting him, Eddie was very much considered the aggressor here.

A fact he cannot believe is coming from his own friends.

What happened to comradery? To Eddie stepping in and protecting them, from the likes of people just like Harrington?

But no, Eddie makes one fucking comment about how the cookies are probably half hair-spray and suddenly he’s the bad guy.

(Nevermind that Steve had fired right back, telling Eddie that any hair-spray taste was probably from all the drugs he did.)

Was somewhat, halfway--okay maybe amazing, Eddie might have snuck a cookie himself--food really all it took to get them all to turn on him like this?

Erase the years of Eddie being their shield in high school?

Act like Harrington wasn’t just as bitchy and awful as he had been in high school (even if he was, admittedly, being nicer about it all right now? Almost--aloof, like he couldn’t figure out why Eddie hated him so much, but likewise wasn’t going to take even one eye roll sitting down--and no, no, Eddie wasn't derailing this by thinking about his stupid eyes, he wasn't!)

Frankly he would have flipped them all the bird and stormed off, if it weren’t for the increasingly weird little comments people were making.

‘Oh Steve, it's a shock to see you here.’

‘Are you doing someone a favor?’

‘You know Pastor Jim said something about this game…’

The last one had put Eddie’s teeth on edge, even if Dustin had brushed it off. It hadn’t been aimed at Steve directly but the women saying it had absolutely been looking at the King, as if waiting for his reaction.

Not that Harrington would take the bait this soon, though.

There were too many people buying fricken…cupcakes and shit, while the King enjoyed the attention of the masses.

Eventually this tiny crowd would die down though, and that’s when Harrington would change his tune. Start answering some of the questions he seemed to be dodging as more and more people got braver about coming up to the table.

This whole thing was a ticking time bomb, and Eddie would be ready when it inevitably blew.

To defend his table, his club, his friends.

Even Henderson, who absolutely didn’t deserve it just then.

“Dude perk up would you? You look like you’re going to stab somebody.” Jeff hissed at him ten minutes later, when there was finally a break in the flood.

Eddie ignored him in place of taking stock of the table. (And maybe, sneaking another cookie.)

“Hope you brought more than this, Harrington.” He said, knowing he sounded like a stuck up ass and not feeling an iota of guilt about it. “Unless you plan to run home and bake more like a good little housewife.”

“Dude.” Grant said, casting him a look like King Dick might leave and take the cookies with him.

“Oh I brought more.” Harrington dismissed, with a small flick of his fingers. “And I’ll have you know you’d never find a housewife more perfect than I am, Munson.”

Then he turned to nail Eddie with the most shit eating grin he’d ever seen the King wear.

Facing flaming a brilliant red, Eddie sputtered for a second before finally getting ahold of himself and spitting;

“How delightful. I--”

“Okay.” Jeff cut in, forever the mediator. “Gary, Dustin can you help Steve pull the extra stuff out from under the tables? While I go talk to Eddie?”

“Can I try the tiramisu?” Gareth asked, inching hopefully towards the treat while keeping an eye on Harrington’s hands, lest he get smacked again.

“Only if you’re a good boy.” Harrington told him sarcastically and goddammit why did that make Eddie blush harder!?

Jeff sighed, before grabbing his arm and hauling Eddie back, away from the table, right as a younger man in some stupid sport’s jacket asked questions about one of the dice cookies.

“Look I get it man, I do,” Jeff started, voice talking on the sort of wheelding, pleading tone it did when he really wanted something and knew Eddie was opposed. “but Steve’s actually been super cool. We might actually make money off this, and he’s giving us all of it. Can you just… not antagonize him for five minutes?”

Eddie stared at his best friend in abject horror.

“You couldn’t have talked to him for more than twenty minutes total. Half of which he spent bitching that you were bagging a cake wrong! At what point was Harrington "being cool!?"

The asterisks were made by his fingers, which Eddie mockingly framed his face with.

He got a flat, unimpressed stare in return.

“It was a very informative twenty minutes and he was right about the cake. Now are you going to help or are you going to glower in the corner?”

Eddie gaped.

“I cannot believe you right now--”

Jeff didn’t even wait to hear him out.

“You’ve chosen to glower. I can’t help you man, but we’d all have a much better day if you weren’t at Harrington’s throat every five seconds.” Jeff turned smoothly on his heel.

Over his shoulder he added; “Seriously, don’t come back until you’ve worked your way out of your snit.”

Shocked, Eddie watched Jeff float back to the front, inserting himself easily between Grant and Steve and immediately striking up a conversation.

With the enemy.

“I didn’t know you baked.” Jeff told Steve loudly (and very obviously, for Eddie to see.)

Steve gave a bashful little smile, then shrugged. “It’s a hobby. Got into it back when the basketball team needed to fundraise a few years ago and Tommy’s mom got it in her head we should sell home baked goods. Turns out its kinda fun.”

“Please never get out of it.” Gareth insisted, a piece of God knows what crammed in his mouth.

“Dude, how many of those have you gotten into!? Stop eating the merchandise!” Dustin commanded, smacking at Gareth’s shoulder.

“I physically cannot stop man.” Gareth dodged, reaching out for another cookie. “I’m not sorry.”

Steve just laughed. All charming and buddy-buddy, like it was natural for him to be here.

Wearing a Hellfire shirt. Making jokes and teasing the guys.

In Eddie’s fucking place.

He seethed, fingers twitching, and envisioned the very unsexy murder of one Steve Harrington.

Cartoon X’s for eyes and all.

xXx

Trouble didn't hit the table.

It in fact, seemed to stay away as if on purpose, to shove in Eddie's face that he was the one in the wrong here.

Even the questions toned done, as the second wave of moms showed up, this round prompted by some former teammate of Steve’s Eddie didn’t recognize yelling about his apple pie.

Instead, Eddie’s wayward sheep finally made their appearance Mike and Lucas trying to sneak in as if Eddie wouldn’t notice during the new rush.

(Eddie himself almost caused trouble when he realized Lucas was wearing a Not-A-Hellfire shirt, which solved the mystery of where Harrington had gotten his.

He was inching his way towards them, a snarky word on his tongue when he saw Sinclair said something about how he was “already on Eddie’s shitlist for joining the basketball team,” in relation to what must have been a question about his Hellfire shirt, that caused Eddie to freeze.

With the air of a sad, wet kitten, Lucas followed it with; “I’m sure it won’t be long before he kicks me out of Hellfire anyway.”

Like he'd been punched in the gut, all the air left Eddie’s lungs.

Because before Lucas had said that, Eddie had been thinking it.

Not really--he’d never kick anyone out of Hellfire.

It was more that he'd thought about it in the way one does when you know you're right, and are having to resort to underhanded tactics to force the other party to come to their senses.

Like a sort of shitty, angry “I should kick you out, let you see what happens when you don’t have us!” kind of innervation.

The same kind he had heard the jocks sling before, when they were mad at each other and--God he wasn’t--he couldn’t be, like them...could he?

Like fucking Harrington, who oh fuck, was patting Lucas sympathetically on the shoulder and giving him some kind of whispered advice.

Sonovabitch.

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie bit out, vision tunneling.

He knew he needed to go sit down somewhere, before he fucking lost it in front of Hawkin, Harrington and everyone.

And wouldn’t that just be a treat for King Steve?

To watch Eddie realize he had turned into the very thing he hated, preached against, even?

That Steve was, maybe, possibly, doing a better job of following Eddie’s own Munson Doctrine than he was?

Eddie barely saw the room anymore--waived off whatever Grant was trying to say to him as flew past, shaking hands fishing for a desperately needed cigarette.

Maybe a hope and a prayer too, because apparently he needed it.

How long had he been like this?

Been a douchebag asshole?

Was it the whole year? More than? Or was it just now, with stupid Steve involved? Could he trace this back to that stupidly cute--no, no, annoying, asshole?

Was this some fucked up way of coping with his growing crush!?

Lost in thought and growing self hatred he nearly careened right into Robin Buckley.

Her slightly bent paper reindeer ears marking her as a member of the band kids who had been absolutely butchering ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ a few minutes earlier.

Vaguely heard her yell Steve’s name as he ran off (because that’s what he was doing. What he always did.

Run--from himself and his own fucking feelings, like a total cliche.)

--but didn’t take in that she was doing more than saying hi to, oh fuck him sideways--her friend.

Because she and Steve were friends.

Good ones, if the freshmen were to be believed.

Rather than go outside and catastrophize in the cold, Eddie threw himself threw the doors at the end of the hall, then up the stairwell, to the second floor.

Tucked himself right into a corner, right there by the stairs.

Sank down into a crouch, hands scrubbing up his face before tangling in his hair, head dropping between his knees, cigarette shoved into his mouth.

Somehow, Eddie decided, this was Steve’s fault.

He'd have come up with a reason for that, he was sure. A good one even, except he forgot one of the key features of his life.

He was a Munson, and as a general rule of life, nice neat things did not happen to Munson's--but they did get kicked while they were down.

“Okay, what happened?” Steve fucking Harrington asked, voice loudly echoing up the stairwell from down below, and Eddie threw his head back, nearly slamming it against the wall.

(Maybe he’d pissed off a witch. His life would make a lot more sense if someone had cursed it.)

“She gave me her number!”

That was Buckley, the shrill timber identifiable even as she whispered the words.

Eddie can’t really see them without giving himself away--could probably make his escape if he got down and army-crawled past the railing he’s huddled by, but figured this is their fault anyway.

Not his problem if he overhears a private conversation if they’re both too stupid to check to see if someone was seated literally right up above them.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?" Steve was saying. "That’s what we wanted!”

“Is it!? What if she’s just, you know, giving it to me?”

“...I’m not following.”

“Like in a friend way. Not a--”

“Romantic way?”

Harrington has the smarts to say the words quietly. So quietly in fact, that had Eddie not been in the exact right position he wouldn’t have heard--but he almost swallowed his unlit (he should have lit it, maybe they'd have smelled the smoke and fucked off) cigarette anyway.

“Sssshh!” Robin hissed, and Eddie can’t see either of them but he imagined her jamming her hand over Harrington’s big fat mouth.

“Not so loud, Steve!”

“Sorry, God.” Sure enough, Harrington’s voice is muffled. “How did she give it to you? Did she say anything?”

“She asked if I want to hang out after band, but because I have that stupid family thing, I told her I couldn’t today, but I can literally any other day, and she said she’d call me, and I said--”

“Robs, breathe.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Dingus!” Robin said, voice shrill again, before she clearly listened to Harrington and took a breath.

It was big, and deep, and she blasted it back out loud enough for the fucking birds on the roof to hear.

In a calmer voice, Robin continued; “I said we never traded phone numbers so I didn’t have hers. She grabbed my arm and wrote her number on it. Look, she added a heart!”

“Okay, here you go! A hearts a good sign!"

And Harrington sounded--sounds happy for her, practically ecstatic, which doesn’t make much sense given Robin is talking about a ‘her’ and-

And-and-and--

Eddie’s always been quick to connect the dots.

It’s something he inherited from his old man. A Munson trait he’s tried to make his own through being an excellent DM (and not by robbing people blind or boosting cars.)

Here, the dots clearly screamed that Robin Buckley was trying to ask a woman out.

You know, in a gay way.

Which Harrington not only knew, but was supportive of.

Steve Harrington, who famously called Jonathan Byers' a queer before smashing the guy's beloved camera into the ground.

Eddie’s head exploded.

Or was in the process of exploding--he’s not entirely sure given the tunnel vision was back and his soul felt like it had exited his body entirely.

Just knew that his world was being remade for a second time in five minutes, and that he was dealing with it pretty damn poorly.

(Maybe God would be nice for once, and just give him the aneurism he clearly deserved.)

Which was of course, when trouble finally did decide to show face, in the form of Dustin Henderson barging through the doors and into Steve and Robin's little meeting.

Eddie knew, because Eddie could hear him.

“Steve! Steve we have a problem!”

“I’m busy Dustin--”

“Be busy later, we have an emergency on our hands!”

“And what, pray tell, do you think is an emergency?”

Eddie, who had instantly latched onto the conversation by the sheer need to have something distract him from his own thoughts, wondered the very same.

“Jason Carver showed up at the table, with a priest. They’re trying to do some whole kind of crazy sermon--is that a good enough emergency for you!?”

“Oh shit. ” Steve spat, at the same time Eddie yelled it from up high.

He sprang up, all thoughts of Robin and Steve knowing he’d eavesdropped vanishing entirely from his head as he lunged for the stairs.

Flew down them, because the thing he'd been waiting all fucking day for had finally happened.

He nearly crashed into Robin once again as he blew through the barely closed doors, Steve and Dustin already far ahead of him.

“Eddie?” Robin asked, voice noticeably nervous. "Were you--"

"Not now Starbuck, but we can talk later." Eddie told her, flying right past.

After he saved Hellfire.

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xgumiho · 1 month

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pov: you find your old magazine collection under your bed

©xgumiho | do not repost/steal/edit/crop/sell

#everyone's favourite 90s troublemaker rockstar eddie munson #famous eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #corroded coffin #hellfire #hellfire club #fanart #stranger things #stranger things fanart #steddie #stranger things art #steddie fanart #eddie munson fanart #eddie fanart #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things au #stranger things 4 #stranger things headcanons

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characcoon · 9 months

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BUUUURN, BABYYY!

#jack o' lantern looking mf #rottmnt #rottmnt au #Hellfire #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #tmnt au #rottmnt Flare #char draws

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madelynraemunson · 6 months

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CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ minors if u see this NO YOU DO NOT

Chapter 008: Good Girl, Good Fucking Girl

A flustered Eddie orders you to the backseat of his van after weeks of constant teasing.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020* (all coming soon)

NSFW — dirty-talk, choking, oral (m receiving), face fucking, fingering, deep throating, ball play, slapping, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, aggressive!eddie, daddy kink, dominant!eddie, submissive!shy girl, finger sucking, praising kink, titty fucking, swallowing, basically anything that doesn’t involve a condom bc these bitches aren’t prepared

word count: 3k words

“I feel you too, Feel those things you do, In your eyes I see a fire that burns.”

♡

“Back of the van. Now.”

Along with making your pussy swell, Eddie’s ferocity catches you by surprise. He’s never been that rough with you before, even with weeks of his passive aggressive behavior. Eddie’s hand stays glued to your neck while he undresses you with his contentious eyes. He means business.

You rush to the backseat when he releases you, your eagerness to be fucked all the way out making you indifferent to any scratches or scrapes you may acquire along the way.

It makes you look pathetic, you know, but his thirst to have you, even in a well-lit parking lot at borderline dawn would do just about anybody in.

Eddie uses the opportunity of you on all fours to issue a rough smack across your asscheeks. You whimper softly in response.

"Sorry," he coos as he rubs the impact site. "I just couldn’t help myself.”

“That’ll definitely leave a mark,” you comment.

“As intended.”

You lay yourself down on the relatively spacious backseat, propping yourself upwards with your elbows. Eddie follows suit, stumbling on nothing along the way and landing just inches away from your face.

Your hands go up to support him. "Oh my god," you chuckle. You graze up the arms of his leather jacket. "You alright?"

"Better than alright," he replies, undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans. His eyes are fixed on you the whole time. “C’mere.”

Eddie pulls you into another tender kiss, shielding the back of your head with his palm as he lays you all the way down. You instinctively cradle your legs around him, your antsy fingers getting tangled in his thick brown hair, your lips suctioning themselves to his hot, unmarked neck.

Eddie buries his face in your chest, caressing your tits with his tongue and his hands. You palm his erection through his boxers before exploring the small of his back with both your hands. Moaning softly, Eddie grinds himself onto you, getting himself off to the friction of your heat that's barricaded by two stubborn articles of rigid, blue denim.

“‘Tits are fucking perfect,” he says between kisses. “They just sit so pretty.”

It all feels so right. Eddie grabs you by the hips and attempts to thrust further, maximizing your dry touch until you give him the green light to proceed.

“God, I need you now.”

You cup the large and firm protrudence in your hand once again and give his balls a timid squeeze as Eddie groans into your ear.

“You have no idea how long l've been waiting for this,” Eddie continues.

"You and me both," you heave. "Need you so fucking bad, Eddie."

Both of your moans fill the van as your lips crash into each other again, tongues sparring for control. Eddie grabs a hold of your right breast, massaging it gently before playing with your nipples, pinching, rubbing, and flicking to the tempo of his kisses.

"I can't do this," Eddie debates aloud, shaking his head as he plants messy, wet kisses all over your face. “Fuck. I’m screwed.”

You beam up at him, resting your hands on top of his chest. "Don't run from it, Eddie. Just embrace it."

“Kinda too late to retreat, I’m afraid,” he laughs. “I meant I don’t have a condom.”

“We can do other things,” you suggest. “I’m a sucker for foreplay.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie insists.

“I kinda had to. More than twice actually.”

His hand flies to your neck again. You squeal, again.

“Don’t get smart with me now.”

You use this opportunity to get Eddie real fired up. Pouting up at him with your plump lips, you bat your wispy lashes that accessorized your glimmering ‘fuck-me-senseless’ eyes.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Jesus Christ.”

The game of cat and mouse is coming to an end.

Eddie roughly undoes the buttons of your shorts and wrangles them off of you before discarding them off to the side. All in one quick sweep.

His hand lands on your mound and he pauses to admire you before his fingers drive themselves inward. You feel your nipples harden as Eddie continues to venture.

"Fuck, Eddie..." you breathe.

You squirm impatiently as Eddie takes his time pulling down your bright red g-string that unintentionally matched the set he just spoiled you with. He seems to be struggling. To help him out, you reach over to pull your g-string down, but he grabs your wrist and chucks it away. Your heart soars.

“No no, leave ‘em halfway on,” he commands. “It’s hotter that way. Eagerness factor and all.”

You know exactly what Eddie means by that. There’s something so sexy about needing someone so bad that you’re hardly undressed.

Eddie continues to set up access. Meanwhile, you play with his fingers, stripping him of his rings as a hint to how you want him.

Thumb ring, off.

Index finger ring, off.

Middle finger ring, off.

Pinky ring, off.

Eddie doesn’t wear anything on either ring finger. But judging by how this night is headed, you are determined to make that change.

You gasp quietly as Eddie etches gentle circles against your clit, three of his large fingers teasing your already slippery entrance. You breathe out in euphoria when he slides his index finger in.

Testing the waters. Eddie pumps into you in a rotating motion, studying your reaction as you quickly accommodate him.

“Shit,” you moan, tossing your head back in pleasure.

Eddie maintains his steady pace.

“Tell me how you like it,” he encourages you.

“Just like that,” your response is almost inaudible. “I like it like that, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” he whispers. “Good.”

The rhythm continues.

“More,” you instruct him before kissing his chin. His emerging 5 o’clock shadow is tickling you, but you don’t care. “Please, Eddie.”

“What does more mean, babygirl?” Eddie questions. “Hm? What can I do for you?”

“F-faster,” you plead. “And one more finger, please.”

Without hesitation, his middle finger swoops in. He begins to pick up speed.

“Fuck!” you cry out.

You grab onto his hair and pull him closer to you. All the while, Eddie is pistoning in and out of you, at a speed and depth so aching, your eyes begin to well with tears.

Eddie smirks. “What are you crying for, honey? It’s what you wanted.”

“I know, I know,” you mewl. “It just feels too good.”

You bridge your pelvis upward to maximize the sensation. The sounds of your arousal slosh around in the backseat, absolute music to Eddie’s ears. He continues to repeatedly taunt that sweet spot of yours.

“Look at you,” he says. “So wet for me, you hear that sweetheart?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod.

The pet name sends shivers down Eddie’s spine. His eyes are fixated on you now, watching you shake beneath him. You’re mouthing for more because your voice is nearly gone. Eddie uses his pinky and his thumb to keep you propped upward.

He curves his fingers.

The pressure sensation to shoots up to your navel. You abruptly dig your nails into Eddie’s thigh in response to your detonating senses.

“MMM!” you yelp.

Eddie dares to mock you. “Mm?”

“Feel s-so good,” you stammer. “S-so fucking good. More, please, Eddie. I want more.”

He pumps his fingers into you harder, picking up speed with every thrust. And just when you think you’ve adjusted to him, his ring finger slides in.

You squeal in delight as pressure builds and Eddie advances further. He’s so measured, so rhythmic. Those are guitarist fingers if you ever did experience them.

“You still with me, angel?”

You realize you haven’t spoke or looked at him in a while. A kiss lands on the top of your head as you come back to earth. He needs to feel good now.

“Need your cock, Eddie,” you whimper. “Need to spoil you too.”

He chuckles, ruffling your hair with his other hand. “Aw, shucks. That’s thoughtful of you, dear.”

He kisses your forehead. “Alright.”

You both shift around to new positions and comfort levels. This time you’re on your stomach with your back arched, legs slightly parted so Eddie can keep abusing your cunt with those long, thick fingers of his. Eddie lines his groin up with your mouth, teasing you with how slow he’s pulling down the only thing keeping you from devouring him.

"You're only fucking Steve, right?"

You nod. "And…you're not sleeping with anyone?"

"Currently not." Eddie confirms. "And I'm tested, are you tested?"

You nod eagerly. "Cleared."

And the boxers come down.

He’s huge. Your eyes widen as his dagger springs out, his length just as excruciating as Steve’s, but his girth an entirely different ballpark. You rest a clammy set of fingers atop of it and hold in your breath, realizing your dainty little hand can barely envelope his entire circumference.

A thin strand of his pre-cum leaks from his rosy red tip. All for you.

Amused at your reaction, Eddie gives off a single-syllable chuckle. "What?"

"I think you know what.”

He looks at you slyly. "Do I?"

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Eddie shrugs. “Perhaps.” He inches closer to you. “But you’re just as sneaky.”

He gently taps your lips with the tip of his cock, requesting entrance into your mouth. You open up wide, taking him in sliver by sliver, dancing your tongue around his head before moving down his shaft.

“Shit,” he mutters.

You feel him hardening in your mouth. It leaves you stunned. He wasn’t completely hard yet?

You bob your head up and down as you take him, doing swirls around his tip with your tongue and mimicking the motion with your hands as you stroke him. And you don’t want to leave the boys out so after a while, you stroke him with both hands, gliding your thumb along the tip of his head while you tongue his balls. Eddie acquires a huge cluster of your hair and proceeds to lightly guide you.

“My fucking god,” he sputters. “Mmm just like that baby, FUCK.”

Soon he's got your hands behind your back and thrusting into your mouth, the foreshadow of his release running down your chin. You arch your back further to display your pleasure, and to allow easier access for Eddie’s fingers as you throat his long, wide cock to tears.

Meanwhile, his three fingers are a machine, propelling themselves in and out of you, the rattling of your drenched pussy ricocheting off the walls of Eddie's van. Pressure continues to build at your core.

“Fuuuck,” Eddie moans. He pulls his fingers out to spank you. “Wish you can see how pretty you look right now. Give that mouth a nice lil stretch…”

His cock rams the back of your throat repeatedly. Your resistance in the form of a subtle gag makes it known.

"Keep that mouth open, baby," Eddie instructs. "Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

You gag and you gasp as Eddie fucks your throat, jamming into you so hard you’re sure it’s going to bruise tomorrow. A couple more thrusts, and you tap, digging your sharp nails into his thighs and spitting him out to lubricate his dick.

“Yeah ha!” Eddie chuckles euphorically as you go back to swallowing him down. He pulls you in with your hair. “That’s the stuff, baby. Want you to take me until that pretty jaw locks. Want you to still feel me today, tomorrow, and the day after. Do you understand me?"

You nod your head, yes, rapidly. You pause to take in some air, jacking him off with your hand in the meantime, reveling in the dreamy state in his eyes.

The intense fingering continues, this time, he keeps his fingers curved.

“Oh my GOD!” you scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you continue to jerk Eddie off.

Eddie issues you a mild slap across the face causing you to moan in pleasure. He cups your face with a single hand, encouraging you to look at him and to not break eye contact. He wants to watch you fall apart.

He yanks his three fingers out of you and shoves them into your mouth. You suck on them instantly.

"Mhm," Eddie pants. "You like how you taste huh?"

You’re all tuckered out. Mouth sore, legs like jello, makeup probably non-existent. But you’re in another world. Too far away from Earth to care. And you don’t plan on coming back down any time soon.

“Let’s give that pretty little mouth a break,” Eddie barters. “Lemme fuck your tits.”

Again, with a singular motion, Eddie unclasps your bra and glides it down and away from your arms. You allow him to flip you back over onto your back and watch in absolute bliss as hovers over you.

Pushing your tits together, you watch as Eddie lines himself up, sliding in between and thrusting himself onto you. You poke your tongue out to graze his dick when you can.

“Fuuuck,” Eddie moans. “This is so hot.”

“You’re so hot,” you insist.

He blushes. “No you’re so hot. And sweaty.”

Eddie’s secretions mixed with your saliva spill onto your chest as he continues to pleasure himself. The fingers that were once inside of you are now in your mouth. You suck on them hard.

“Havin’ the time of your life aren’t you, my little fuck doll?” Eddie asks.

“Mhm,” you nod. “Love letting you use me, Eds.”

Eddie’s face scrunches as he continues to fuck your breasts, beads of sweat raining down on you as he reaches his peak.

“So fucking dangerous,” Eddie tosses his head back. “This is so dangerous. Holy shit. Wanna cum all over you.”

The phone rings. You two flinch at the noise as it yanks you both out of your lust-filled trance.

"Son of a BITCH!” Eddie growls. He debates letting it go to voicemail, but when he sees who's calling he answers the phone.

"What, Henderson?"

"Oh good, you're still awake!" you hear Dustin pant from the other end of the line. "Can you pick us up please? Skull Rock?"

"W-" Eddie's puzzled. "Us? Who's us? Why are you shitheads up so late?"

"We've been drinking and we don't wanna walk home," Dustin explains. "Especially cuz Lucas keeps walking into oncoming traffic."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie rages. "You guys work in the afternoon, why would you-"

Eddie slams his palm onto his face as he listens half-assed to Dustin's explanation. They argue back and forth for a little while longer before he caves. Eddie would rather have the boys plastered in his van than in the Uber of a family friend who would snitch to Ms. Claudia Henderson about their shenanigans. Eddie the Hero, per usual.

"I…” Eddie rolls his eyes. "Gotta pick up the boys. If they get caught, a lot of us are in trouble."

“Aw,” you shrug. “Okay.”

“Let’s finish up,” Eddie suggests. “Real quick. Please.”

The easiest ‘yes’ ever. You and Eddie agree to one last face fuck. He thrusts into you messily, eyes closed and concentrated on chasing his release. With his outlet being your pretty, puffy, pink lips it comes quicker than you think.

The thick threads of Eddie’s hot cum shoot to the back of your throat. You swallow instantly, and make sure he’s watching.

Eddie’s mouth flies open as he bears witness to the whole thing. You wipe the remnants of him off with the side of your thumb.

“No need for clean up,” you smile innocently.

For a second it looks like Eddie’s knees almost buckle.

“My god,” he strains. “You need to marry me asap.”

You know it’s a joke, but your heart flutters at the compliment.

“Yeah, right.”

You’re a little bummed the nights been cut short again but you're at ease knowing there's plenty more where that came from.

“I’m so sorry that the night ended this way,” Eddie mutters. “I just didn’t expect literally any of this to happen.”

"It's okay," you giggle. "I remember those days. Dad's controlling ass raised some sneaky kids.”

"Oh yeah?"

"Hell yeah," you nod. "You wouldn't believe the adventures I went on. Billy would tag along too."

Eddie smiles. “Since we’re talking adventures, this one of ours has to be my favorite.”

You two proceed to drive along to Skull Rock, the skull shaped boulder made infamous by Eddie and Steve. Eddie won't go into full detail about how they made it so well known. Just that it was them that did it.

Eddie slithers his hand over to you, resting it atop your thigh.

"Well this changes some things, huh?" he laughs.

"Kinda," you mumble shyly, not even fighting back your ear-to-ear grin anymore.

“In one mile, turn right on Curly Street,” the GPS orders.

A slightly heavy rectangular device lands onto your lap. It’s Eddie’s phone.

"Can you text Dustin for me?" Eddie requests. "Let him know our ETA and all that?"

“Sure!” you oblige.

Eddie gives you his passcode, 0-0-2-0 and you navigate to his text messages to text your rambunctious curly-haired friend.

The concept of it all makes you blush. Eddie trusts you with his phone and letting him text your mutual friends for him. Butterflies form in your stomach.

According to Eds and Siri, you’re five minutes away so that's what you text. Dustin shoots you a thumbs up a few seconds later.

You go to close to the Messenger app. But with an accidental swipe to the left, the conversation below Dustin's happens to catch your eye.

NINA loved "See you soon! 😁”

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tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @holabeans00, @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse

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author’s note: me after posting the raunchiest chapter(s) of this fic so far and turning off my phone

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things 5 #hellfire #hellfire club #Spotify

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stevesbipanic · 1 year

Text

Inspired by this post by @liightsnow

Steve had always been quick to open his home to his friends.

It began of course with allowing Tommy to throw big parties at his house since Steve’s parents were away, later he would open his home to the kids to have a safe place to just be kids. Steve enjoyed having his friends around and it helped fill the silence of his usually empty house. So it was no surprise that when Eddie needed a new location for Hellfire, Steve was the first to volunteer.

He and Eddie had gotten close as Eddie recovered in hospital, he was fun to be around, loud and bright in a way that pushed away the thoughts as to how Eddie ended up in the bed in the first place. Wayne was appreciative of Steve keeping his nephew company while he was at work and Steve always reassured him that it was no trouble, most of the time Steve stayed even when Wayne was there.

There was one issue with hosting Hellfire however, the Hellfire boys. Jeff, Gareth and Grant had visited Eddie a few times after school, all their parents keeping them at home when they could after the “earthquake”, Steve always excused himself allowing Eddie to have time with his friends. Steve couldn’t blame the wary looks that they’d send him, he knew who he was in high school, even Eddie had assumed the same.

This lead Steve to now as he opened the door to the three boys, who were last to arrive. They all nodded politely at Steve before heading straight to where Eddie was calling them in the dining room. At first Steve tried to make himself seem friendly and approachable to them, demonstrating that he had changed since his years of being King of Hawkins High. He set out snacks and got people drinks, even remembering which drinks Eddie had told them were their favourites, but all he got were polite smiles and glances towards Eddie. After receiving similar treatment when he brought them lunch, Steve gave up his attempts and retreated to his bedroom to wait out the rest of the game.

Steve curled into a ball on his bed, knees tucked tightly under his chin as he wrapped his arms around is legs. He got an eerie sense of déjà vu to when he was a child and his mother would send him up to his room once he’d been “showed off” to the guests. His purpose complete and he was no longer needed, Hellfire had what they needed to finish their game without them.

Steve heard joyous cries downstairs and wished for a moment he would’ve been able to stay and watch. Everyone always sounded so happy when the game concluded, and he knew Eddie told the best stories. He knew he couldn’t though, he didn’t want to ruin it for anyone, especially Eddie’s friends.

He was getting ready to go downstairs and clean up, another thing similar to his mother’s parties, when there was a knock at his door.

“Stevie? You ok in there?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, Eds, I’m fine, game finished then?” Steve replied as Eddie entered the room.

“Yeah, it was great, you should’ve stayed to watch Gareth made the best final attack, you have a headache or something, why are you hiding up here?”

“Oh, um,” Steve looked down at his hands, “Thought I’d just be in the way down there, didn’t want to spoil the fun.”

Eddie made a face at this, “Spoil the fun? Sweetheart, everyone would’ve loved you to stay and watch, might get Dustin off your back about playing.”

Steve shook his head, “Your friends don’t really like me much, which I get, it’s fine, glad you guys had a place to play though.”

“Steve why did you offer up your place if you didn’t want to watch? And the guys think you’re fine what’re you talking about, did one of them say something?”

“You guys needed a place to play and I have an empty house, need to be useful someway now that there’s no monsters to fight and my parents cut me off, and no, no one said anything but they always act weird around me.”

“Fuck Stevie, you’re more than just someone useful you know that right? I’d want you around just because I like you around, sweetheart, you don’t have to earn that by offering your house.”

“You sure?”

“Very sure, wasn’t getting better in Casa Harrington, was I? Got better cause I had my favourite jock beside me.” Steve blushed at that. “And as for my friends, I think I know the reason they’re acting weird around you,” Eddie said guiltily.

“Why?”

“Might’ve told them not to embarrass me in front of you,” Eddie said sheepishly.

“Why wouldn’t you want them to- oh,” Steve smiled softly, “Eddie Munson did you want to look cool in front of me because you like me?”

“Would it be bad to say yes?”

Steve lent over and kissed Eddie’s cheek softly, “Not at all.”

When the boys returned downstairs holding hands to find the others cleaning up, Jeff let out a sigh of relief, “Thank fuck you got your shit together Eddie, Harrington can you make those sandwiches again next time, I don’t know what you put in them but Gare ate like 5.”

“Hey, you would’ve eaten just as many if there were any left!”

Steve laughed, “Sure, will make them a Hellfire staple every week.”

The following week Steve was met by wide grins when he opened the door, and celebrated with the party when they defeated Eddie’s villain. Sitting on Eddie’s lap to watch the campaign was a good new perk too.

#steve harrington #light angst ending with fluff #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #ficlet #hellfire #hellfire boys

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