#i will continue the hunt for Eddie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘭 | steve harrington & eddie munson x reader

summary | steve and eddie are hunting through the forest at night looking for you... but don't worry, they promise they're not gonna hurt you. (based on an anonymous request I got for predator/prey and size kink with dark!steddie that was supposed to just be a drabble... oops.)

word count | 3.7k

warnings | dark (cnc aka noncon!!), smut (oral m and f receiving, creampie, pearl necklace, rough sex, outdoor sex, threesome, spitroast), hunting and predator/prey kink, size kink (meaning the reader is implied to be petite once or twice), degradation, humiliation, forced orgasms, aftercare, roleplay

18+ only, dark themes, read the warnings!

"Come out, bunny," Steve cooed as he shined his flashlight through the trees. "What are you hiding for?"

"She's just a little scared," Eddie explained, calling out into the woods as he continued, "aren't you, babydoll? It's okay, we don't bite."

"Speak for yourself," Steve laughed, and Eddie shoved him on the shoulder.

You shifted against the ground you were sitting on, trying to keep your leg from falling asleep, but froze when you heard a twig snap under you. "Ohh, d'you hear that?" Eddie purred.

"Yeah," Steve breathed, "is that you, bunny? We just wanna talk, okay?"

You covered your mouth when you felt the tree behind you shake. "This isn't gonna take too long, is it?" Eddie groaned to Steve. He was casually leaning on the tree you were hiding behind; of course he was. You shut your eyes and tried not to breathe.

"Just keep looking, okay?" Steve replied. "It's gonna be worth it."

"Well, I knew that," Eddie purred, "been waiting too long to get a taste of that little pussy... what are you gonna do to her, when we find her?"

"I want her mouth first," Steve answered confidently, "you know the ones that act like they don't want it get so wet when they get a taste of some cock."

Eddie chuckled in agreement.

"How about you?"

"Oh god, I dunno— where to start, right?" Eddie laughed. "All I know is where to finish: those tits."

"Now, don't get me wrong," Steve countered, "I like the way you think but... man, I've been waiting to come inside her for weeks. She's gonna try to get me to pull out, though, so you've gotta help me keep her still."

"Didn't think you needed help holding down a little girl, Harrington," Eddie mocked.

"Trust me," Steve warned him, "she's tiny, but she's tough. Not that she'll give us much trouble— just as long as we work together."

"Right," Eddie decided. "Oh, by the way, I almost forgot..."

There was a moment of silence, and you wrinkled your eyebrows together as you hoped to listen in closer. Why would they have just stopped talking so suddenly?

You leaned a little closer to the other side of the tree— maybe they were whispering or something— but all you heard was the slightest rustling of leaves. You dared a glance over your shoulder: your heart stopped when you saw Eddie's face right there, smiling wide at you as he crouched on the ground.

"Boo."

You jumped up as fast as you could, breaking into a sprint; they didn't start after you right away, they were letting you get ahead on purpose, you knew that-- because if he wanted to, Eddie could've just grabbed your ankle right as you got up and you would've been done for.

That was the worst part of it: they were so sure they would get you in the end that they were letting you tire yourself out just for fun. You should just be thankful for the sliver of a chance... but instead, you were terrified of how much worse they were going to make it for you, as punishment for not just surrendering in the beginning.

You ran like you’d never run before, the adrenaline coursing through you keeping the soreness in your legs from bothering you too much; you dodged trees and branches, hoping to be light enough on your feet to dodge the twisted roots coming out from the dirt. Your sneakers were struggling to keep traction on the damp ground— it had just rained this afternoon, even now it was still a little foggy from the moisture in the air— but you managed to stay upright even when you almost slipped a few times.

You knew they were gaining on you because you could hear them laughing. One more reminder that this was just a game for them— but it was all but life or death for you.

Steve caught up with you first, but he didn’t grab you; instead, he shoved you down, knocking you into the dirt, where you crawled pathetically until he grabbed you by the ankles.

“No!” you yelped.

“Shh, not gonna be so bad,” Steve promised as he turned you over— Eddie was standing just over his shoulder, and he bent over to rest his hands on his knees as he panted from the run. “We just wanna talk, right?”

“Right,” Eddie agreed.

“Get up,” Steve snarled at you as he grabbed your hand and yanked you onto your feet; you yelped, struggling to find your balance, and he held your arms behind your back as Eddie stalked around you in a half-circle, like he wanted to see you from every angle.

"Oh no, little babydoll got dirty, huh?" Eddie laughed, noticing how the dirt and mud clung to your dress. “Let's get you out of these filthy clothes, sweetheart…”

Steve kept you from struggling too much as Eddie roughly tore your clothes off, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he forced the fabric to rip. You mumbled, “No, please… don’t…” as he ripped your bra away, but he ignored you— and he snapped through your panties in a second.

“There we go,” he purred as you hung your head low, his eyes and hands exploring your naked body hungrily. “So sick of you hiding from us, babydoll— hiding in this dark forest, hiding those cute tits— and your pussy, it’s wet, isn’t it?”

Steve kicked your legs apart, and Eddie reached between them. You tried to wiggle away, but Eddie smacked you across the face.

“Stop moving,” he warned harshly, ringed fingers groping around your pussy until he felt your soaked folds. He looked at Steve, who looked back at him, and smiled. “Oh, Harrington, she’s soaked…”

“Knew it,” Steve laughed.

“You caught her— you go first,” Eddie offered.

“Aww, thanks man!” Steve declared, before turning you around and shoving you down onto your knees. “You know how to do this, don’t you?” he asked gruffly as he started to unbuckle his belt right in front of your face. “I feel any teeth, I’ll fuckin’ knock them out, okay? So be good.”

You winced as Steve pulled his erection out of his boxers, trying to turn away— but a hand on your head stopped you. You only knew it was Eddie’s because you could feel his rings against your scalp.

“Open your mouth,” Steve ordered. You did nothing; Eddie put his other hand on your chin, pulling your mouth open as you groaned in pain. Steve slipped his cock inside, running it over your tongue with a groan before he plunged a little deeper. “Fuck, c’mon, suck on it,” Steve encouraged.

Reluctant, but low on options, you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks.

“Hah, figured you knew how to do this,” Steve breathed, tilting his head back. “You act so innocent, but you love this, don’t you? Slut.”

Steve’s hand smacked your cheek, and you whined around him. “Think she can take it a little deeper?” Eddie asked him from behind you, and you saw him nod. Eddie bent down slightly to speak closer to your ear. “What do you say, babydoll, wanna choke on Stevie’s dick?”

You shook your head, but as soon as you did, Eddie pushed your head down to force Steve’s cock right into your throat. You struggled and fought for air, pushing on Steve’s thighs desperately, but it was no use.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, “fuck, don’t let her up yet.”

“Not yet,” Eddie agreed, “just a few more seconds…”

It felt like ages, but he did let you go; you pulled back with a gasp and a sputter, coughing vigorously as Steve and Eddie laughed at you. You yelped as Eddie pulled you up onto your feet suddenly, his hand on the back of your head again to force you to bend at the hips.

“You can keep going,” he told you, like it was an offer and not an order. “I’m just gonna fuck you while you suck on Stevie’s cock, babydoll.”

You opened your mouth to try to convince him not to, but Steve filled it again before anything could come out; you mumbled uselessly around him, his hands gripping either side of your head to hold you steady as he groaned. “Such a sweet little mouth,” Steve sighed, “just like I imagined it. How’s her pussy feel, Munson?”

“About to find out,” Eddie replied, rubbing his fat head between your other lips. “Wanna bet she’s tight?”

“Oh, I know she is,” Steve insisted; and with a rough push, Eddie filled your hole. It made you moan around Steve’s cock, which made him moan, too.

“Fuck, we were right,” Eddie breathed, “so fuckin’ tight. Nice and warm, too— just been waitin’ for this dick, haven’t you, babydoll?”

You couldn’t say much, feeling horribly full and a little dizzy and totally used up. They both fucked you relentlessly, neither offering much patience or mercy, or even sympathy for the fact that you were already being fucked so hard by someone else.

“Oh my god, she keeps getting more wet,” Eddie laughed, reaching around your hips to slide his fingers over the drips of arousal running down your thighs. Steve pulled your head off of his cock, and you panted with an open mouth as he pushed you down lower.

“Lick my balls,” he demanded, and you grimaced a little but stuck your tongue out further. He moved your head how he wanted it, rocking his hips against your face a bit; his cock, slick from your spit, rubbed against your face and got you all slimy. “Fuck, that’s good…”

“Dirty bitch,” Eddie laughed, smacking you on the ass— a whine jumped out of your wide-open mouth.

“What?” Steve wondered.

“She clenched on me,” Eddie noticed. “You like licking Harrington’s balls, babydoll?”

“Fuck, that is nasty,” Steve chuckled, looking down at you. “You’re really a filthy fucking slut, huh? Why don’t you just admit it?”

He tugged on your hair, keeping your face still so he could give it a few more smacks. “Just say it, baby,” Eddie encouraged as well.

“I-I’m a…” you swallowed thickly, shutting your eyes so you could force the words out, “I’m a f-filthy fucking slut.”

Steve held his cock, smacking you lightly on the face with it— when he pressed his balls up to your chin, the tip reached your forehead. “Look how big it is compared to her,” Steve told Eddie with a wide grin.

“Fuck, she’s so little,” Eddie cooed.

“Or I’m so big!” Steve defended.

“I mean, both,” Eddie offered.

“Thanks,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Tell him his cock is big, sweetheart,” Eddie instructed you— and his hand slid up your thigh to pinch your clit. You whined loudly, trying to press your thighs together, and he laughed. “Tell him, baby, and look at him while you say it.”

You looked up at Steve, who had his eyebrows raised expectantly when he met your gaze. “You, um… you have a big cock, Steve.”

“See? Told you,” Eddie sing-songed.

“And how does Eddie’s cock feel, huh, bunny?” Steve asked you in return.

“I-it hurts,” you whined.

“Y’know, I was trying to get her to say it felt good,” Steve told Eddie, “but that might be more of a compliment.”

“Yeah, she can bitch about it all she wants,” Eddie chuckled, “I know she likes getting this pussy stretched out. Don’t ya, little girl?”

Another hard pinch on your clit made you gasp: “F-fuck, fuck yes,” you sighed, “I like it…”

Eddie moaned lowly as he fucked you faster. “You like it enough to come?”

You whined, but he started to rub your clit hard and fast; it made your legs shake, and you heard Steve laugh a bit. “Is she close?” he asked Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie panted, “wanna cream for me, babydoll? Go ahead and do it.”

“Think she’ll come faster if she’s sucking me again?” Steve wondered.

Eddie laughed; “Definitely.”

Steve pushed his cock back into your mouth, making you choke and gag again as the pressure on your clit nearly became too much to bear. You hated that that actually worked, but it did— maybe the benefit was your orgasmic moans weren’t quite as embarrassingly loud, but Steve got a nice view of your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Fuck,” Eddie groaned, “good job, babydoll— coming nice and hard on my cock, feels so good…”

You were drooling all over both of them, in two different ways, and your hearing was a little fuzzy but you caught them both mocking you a bit for it.

“Gonna pull out and coat those tits soon,” he warned, “just like I said I would. Did you get wet when you heard me say that, baby?”

You did, but obviously you didn’t say anything; you were too weak to hide your own moans now, and the hands in your hair and on your hips were the only thing holding you up now.

“Fuck, fuck, turn her around, Steve,” Eddie ordered; they both pulled out quickly and Steve grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to kneel and look up at Eddie. He stepped up to you, one hand a silvery blur over his cock as he stroked himself, the other pushing your hair back and holding your head. “Good girl, want this come all over your tits?”

Again, you didn’t need to answer, it was irrelevant anyways; a second later, he was groaning loudly as come shot out and landed in haphazard stripes across your chest. Your nipples were getting harder, for no good reason, and Steve watched it all with a proud look on his face. Eddie’s lip curled as he looked down at you, jerking his cock until every drop was on your tits; he sighed, and smiled.

Just as you were appreciating the brief moment of peace, Steve roughly yanked you up onto your feet and pressed himself up behind you. “My turn,” he grunted as he suddenly and roughly filled you with his cock.

You whined and dropped your head limply, feeling Eddie’s spend starting to cool on your chest. He had already put his cock back in his jeans, and was watching the scene before him with a grin. “Be good for Stevie,” he cooed at you, holding your jaw in his hand and forcing you to look up at him. “He wants to come inside you, nice and deep… last I heard.”

“Yep, still do,” Steve interjected, “wanna— ah, fuck— wanna fill this cunt.”

“No, please, please,” you whimpered.

“Take it all, sweetheart,” Eddie ordered you with a grin, “take all that fuckin’ come— and be grateful that Steve wants to give it all to you. You should be fucking grateful.”

You whined through your teeth.

“You should thank me for coming on your tits,” he snarled. “Say it, bitch.”

He smacked you across the face, and the words spit out of your mouth. “Thank you!”

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, “such a good girl… obedient little slut.”

“I’m close,” Steve blurted out suddenly.

“She’s tight, right?” Eddie grinned up at him. “Makes it hard to last.”

“F-fuck, yeah, it does,” Steve agreed breathlessly.

“You don’t need to,” Eddie explained, “she’s just a fuckin’ toy. Don’t need to make her come.”

“But I— I sorta wanted to feel it,” Steve admitted.

“Oh, yeah, it feels so good havin’ that pussy squeeze you,” Eddie agreed, “even better knowing she can’t help it. Can you, little babydoll?” he giggled at you as he pinched one of your cheeks. “Here… I’ll help you get her there, Harrington.”

Eddie reached between you legs again, pinching your sore bud just below where Steve was ruthlessly fucking into you. You sobbed and shuddered, fighting the overwhelming sensation.

“She’s already so close,” Eddie noticed with a purr, “damn Harrington, you’re good at this.”

“Th-thanks,” Steve grunted, “god, I can’t hold on much longer…”

“Come on Stevie’s cock,” Eddie ordered you, “mhm, just like that— give him a nice big squeeze, you dumb fucking whore.”

You came with a choked sob, insides tightening on Steve— who followed suit a split second later, groaning loudly and digging his fingers into the sensitive skin of your hips as he came. “Fuck, fuck!” Steve moaned.

And that was when he dropped you, right into the dirt again, laying limp and helpless at Eddie’s feet. They both stepped closer to you, crouching down beside where you were blinking up blankly at the starry night sky. Eddie sat on the ground, lifting you up to rest your head on his lap; Steve pet your hair as you fluttered your eyes shut.

“Gimme a nod if you’re okay, princess, please?” Steve asked right away. Your head was heavy from exhaustion, but you managed to nod, and he smiled down at you. “Had me worried for a second there…”

“She’s tough, Harrington, give her some credit,” Eddie chuckled. “You know she can handle a lot. And it was all her idea in the first place.”

“Yeah, true,” Steve nodded, brushing his hand over your face lightly. “You did so good, babe, we’re both so proud of you!”

You smiled dreamily, squeezing Eddie’s hand.

“Wanna go home now, sweetheart?” Eddie asked quietly, and you nodded again. “Okay, let’s get you all cleaned up…”

They cleaned you up alright… your back on Eddie’s chest in the bath, Steve in front of you, both of them helping wash you off— inside and out.

You whined a little as Eddie’s fingers slid over your sore cunt. “Shh, just getting all’a Stevie’s come out,” he explained, “don’t get fussy.”

It hurt a little, but you could take it— and they had to get you clean. You were a bit out of it still, but mostly coming back to reality, which is why you noticed Steve’s focused efforts lathering soap on your skin. “S’it just me, or are my tits gonna be super clean after this?” you smirked.

“She’s onto you, Harrington,” Eddie laughed.

It was working, though— your nipples were hard and sensitive from the attention, and Eddie must have noticed how much you liked it since he could feel your hole clenching while he was trying to clean it up.

“You know I can hold my breath for three minutes, right?” Steve reminded you, and you laughed as you nodded. “How long do you need?”

“Depends how good you are,” you challenged.

“Oh, don’t taunt his ego, princess,” Eddie cooed, “now he has to do it.”

“Yup,” Steve agreed, taking a big breath before dropping down under the water’s surface.

Eddie pulled his hands out of the water, resting them on the sides of the porcelain tub; you felt Steve’s mouth latch onto you a second later, and you gripped Eddie’s wrists tightly. “Feels good?” Eddie assumed.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed. Steve’s tongue danced up and down across your folds, and the texture felt different with the water than it normally did; not better, not worse, but definitely very different.

“Mm,” Eddie hummed as he moved his hands away from the edge of the tub, rubbing your shoulders gently instead. “You like how Stevie eats your pussy, princess?”

“Fuck, fuck yeah,” you groaned, “he’s— fuck, he’s got his tongue inside me now.”

“Keep telling me about it,” Eddie requested, kissing down your neck. Your back arched, and you felt Eddie’s cock rub up against your lower back.

“He’s… god, Eddie, he’s licking my clit,” you whimpered, “feels so good…”

“Yeah? I know how sensitive your little bud is,” he cooed. “You can tug his hair if you want him to go harder.”

“Shit, dunno if I can take it,” you admitted.

“Then I’ll do it,” Eddie grinned, reaching underwater and grabbing a tight hold of Steve’s floating locks. It worked; you yelped as Steve wrapped his lips around your clit and suckled hard, your hips starting to shake.

“Oh, fuck!” you shouted, shutting your eyes tight.

“Not too much for you, is it?” Eddie grunted. “You can take it, princess, I know how strong you are— I know you can let Stevie eat that needy little pussy as long as he wants…”

You tried to arch your back deeper, but Eddie used his other hand to hold your hips and keep them pressed forward by Steve’s face. Another jerk on Steve’s hair made him put his tongue inside you again, deeper this time, licking over your g-spot as you whined. “Steve!” you shouted out.

“Do you think he can hear you under there?” Eddie wondered. “Let’s get you a little louder, just to make sure.”

Eddie sucked on your neck, the hand on your hips moving and groping your tits instead before pinching and toying with your nipples; you jerked wildly, Steve only managing to stay latched onto you when Eddie let go of his hair. Steve’s hands held your thighs tight, not enough to keep you still but at least keep you mostly in one place. “Steve!” you sobbed. “St-stevie, fuck, m’gonna come!”

Eddie’s moan was muffled on your skin.

You came with a cry— you were burning up, you didn’t even notice that the water was getting cold. You whined and sobbed and blabbered about how hard you were coming, about how good it felt, until the waves subsided and all your energy was gone.

You went limp against Eddie, and Steve reappeared with a grin as he pushed his wet hair back. “Well, I think we finally wore her out,” Eddie noticed as he looked at you— half unconscious with your head draped on his shoulder.

“Wanna take her to bed?” Steve suggested.

“Always,” Eddie grinned.

“I mean to sleep,” Steve chuckled.

“Oh— yeah, I think it’s babydoll’s bedtime, hm?” Eddie teased lightly, holding your sides.

After they helped you dry off and get in your jammies, they pulled you into the covers, and even though you were almost completely out of your mind, you instinctively latched onto Steve and cuddled up close to him; he smiled and pet your head, just as Eddie slipped in behind you and wrapped you both up tight in his arms.

“Good job today, princess,” Eddie whispered as he kissed the top of your head. “So good for us.”

“Sleep tight, okay?” Steve requested. “‘Cause we’ve got so much more to do tomorrow.”

#steddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader x eddie munson #steve x reader x eddie #eddie x steve x reader #steddie x reader smut

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 7 months

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 1

Eddie doesn’t even know why he’s at this stupid party. It’s full of jocks showboating for their girlfriends, their girlfriends clustering together and giggling like watching Tommy Hagan do a keg stand is somehow dreamy. He’d had an entire beer spilled on his shoes, been heckled out of the kitchen and into the backyard, and left to brood out by Harrington’s ostentatious, heated in-ground pool. And it’s barely been an hour.

Within that hour, he’s made enough money to buy two month’s worth of cigarettes. That’s the rub of it all, isn’t it? Counting his time with packs of cigarettes, and bald tires that need replacing. And stupid things like food for their barren fridge and heat in the trailer once fall fully bleeds into winter. Wayne can only do so much, with rolling blackouts hitting the plant, and rent increasing a little more every year.

So Eddie goes to parties full of people he hates, lunch box secured to his person with the chain at his hip, switchblade stuffed in his back pocket. Just in case.

This party is only ramping up, people trickling out from the overstuffed house to loiter on the back porch, occasionally stopping by to procure his services. As the first hour dwindles into the second, Eddie’s supply is getting dangerously low.

He’s just considering leaving when he notices the King himself trailing after two girls he vaguely recognizes as the two that have been haunting the edges of the jock table the past few weeks.

The brunette is scowling, hand wrapped tightly enough around her redheaded friend’s wrist to make the skin turn unnaturally white as she yanks her along none too gently, her short legs making ferocious strides that have both her captive friend and Harrington stumbling to keep up.

Harrington’s got his hands up like he’s placating a spooked horse, talking too quietly for Eddie to hear over the pounding beat of the music. The girl isn’t spooked though. Despite being the shortest of the group, she looks like a predator on the hunt, just waiting for a slip up to make her kill.

Whatever Harrington is saying must not go well. The brunette shoves her friend behind her, stabbing her finger into his chest, voice rising in rage. “–know he meant it, Steve!” she yells, flatting her palm to push him back harshly. She spins on her heel, continuing her trek past Eddie’s spot by the pool and out toward the open gate to the driveway. “As long as he’s here, we’re not going to be!”

“Don’t be like that Nance,” Harrington placates, following in her wake. “Tommy’s just drunk.”

“I don’t care about Tommy!” Nancy snaps. “I care that you’re friends with such a despicable person.”

“Nance–”

“I thought you were better than this, Steve Harrington,” she says.

Then they’re both through the gate and gone. Harrington doesn’t follow. He stands there, staring where the girls had been, back to Eddie. He’s still as a statue for a long, endless minute before growling, low and angry, pulling his fist back and punching the side of his house.

The hit makes a meaty squelching sound of breakable skin striking an immovable object and parting under its pressure. It almost echoes through the yard in the silence between songs, the whispering from all the onlookers starting up just before the next top forty song begins blaring.

Harrington spins, glaring out at the clustered people on the porch, hands on his hips, blood dripping down onto the green of his sweater, the light blue of his jeans. It’s a little thrilling to see the King bloody, even at his own hands. Like a true royal, he snaps, “go inside,” voice demanding obedience. And they do obey, scuttling back into the house in small clusters, shutting the sliding glass door behind the last of them.

Harrington sighs, shoulders drooping as he lifts his injured hand up to look down at it. He still hasn’t noticed Eddie in his spot by the pool.

“Trouble in the kingdom, your majesty?” he asks, jumping up from his cross-legged position on the pavement to saunter up to the other boy. He leans into his space, smiling coyly as Harrington leans back like he carries an airborne disease. “Anything this lowly court jester can do to help?”

He looks shocked at Eddie’s presence, like he never even considered that his decree wouldn’t be obediently followed by everyone in his backyard.

Eddie smirks, fishing in the pocket of his jean vest for his cigarettes. He taps one out, and holds it out–ever the consummate servant–to Harrington, who curls his lips up in disgust and takes a step back away from him. Eddie shrugs, stuffs the pack back into his pocket and fishes his lighter out of his jeans.

“Munson?” Harrington asks, squinting like he’s never seen Eddie before, despite living in the same janky town, and going to the same schools for the past five years. “Who invited you?”

Eddie takes his time lighting his cigarette and taking a drag, marveling as the little divot between Harrington’s eyebrows grows deeper with every passing second. He holds the smoke in, feeling it settle his nerves as he stares daringly into Harrington’s eyes. He doesn’t look away as he exhales, smoke blowing into Harringotn’s face. He doesn’t cough, just gestures his hand in front of his face impatiently to clear the smoke, looking one more insolent move away from smacking Eddie in the face.

“Someone has to sell party favors to Hawkins’ elite,” Eddie replies, shaking the lunchbox where it’s resting just below his hip.

Steve scoffs. “Well, the party’s just about over so why don’t you fuck off, man.”

He gestures behind him to the open gate. Eddie takes another drag, ashing his cigarette on the pristine concrete below him. Harrington balls up his fists before immediately releasing the tension with a wince, shaking out his injured hand.

“Looks like it’s in full swing to me.” Eddie gestures to the sliding glass door back into the dining room. The curtains are closed now, but Eddie can see the darkened silhouettes moving to the beat still pumping through the house.

“I’m kicking them out.”

Harrington crosses his arms, seemingly once again forgetting about the bloody state of his hand. He’s almost pouting now. Eddie has the insane urge to boop him on the nose. He takes another drag.

“Upset your little girlfriend wouldn’t put out?” he asks, jutting his bottom lip out, trailing a fake tear down his own cheek with his free hand. “Poor little rich boy.”

“What the fuck is your problem, man?”

“Me?” Eddie asks, dropping the burning filter of his cigarette to the ground and using the heel of his boot to smear it into the pavement. “I’m dandy. Who wouldn’t want the undivided attention of the King?”

He smiles then, condescending and bright, planting his feet as Harrington’s gaze darkens further.

“I always knew you were a freak,” Harrington snarls, drawing out the F sound like he’d rather use a different word that begins with the letter F.

“And a startling comeback from the King!” Eddie calls, showboating like he’s DMing for Hellfire in the dingy drama room. “How many F words did your Daddy teach you?”

Eddie didn’t realize that Harrington wasn’t angry before until all the light leaves his eyes. They go blank, soulless, like there’s no real person behind them. He uncrosses his arms, fists once again clenched, not even seeming to realize that it further splits his knuckles as he takes a threatening step forward. It’s a little scary, the way one question seems to have flipped him into an entirely different person.

Note to self, do not mention the absentee Father. Eddie takes a step back on reflex as Harrington uses his bloody finger to jab into his chest, hard enough to sting. Eddie looks down as blood smears, idly grateful that he’s wearing black.

“You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” Harrington spits.

Eddie, having never learned to bite his tongue, opens his mouth to crow about this new F word in Harrington’s repertoire, when he hears a sound behind him.

It sounds almost like the foxes that sometimes chitter in the woods surrounding the trailer park. But there’s something wrong with it. It’s high pitched and cutting in and out, like a record skipping again and again. It’s staticy, reverberating behind him like the static of the television between channels but worse. A recording of television static sped up too fast and fed through three long distance phone calls.

Eddie’s hands tremble, something animalistic coursing through him at the sound–fight or flight kicking in with only one option left. In front of him, Harrington’s gone quiet, eyes wide and unblinking as he looks fixedly past Eddie’s left shoulder.

Then, abruptly, the sound cuts out, replaced with a guttural growling so deep he can feel it pulsing through his muscles, urging him to run. It unsticks his feet, but before he can dart through the open gate, or maybe to the shut sliding glass door to hunker down with the other party-goers, Harrington shoves him backward. Hard.

He loses his feet, loses his breath, until he’s choking on chlorinated water. He comes out of the water spluttering, coughing up water until it burns, his layers of clothing doing their best to drag him down into the bottom of the pool to drown.

His eyes are closed against their stinging, ears clogged with water where he’s struggling to tread in the deep end of Harrington’s stupid heated pool that the King himself just shoved him in.

It’s a low enough moment that Eddie can feel his mind covering up the impossibilities of the night, paving over the impossibilities to rewrite the story to make sense: King Steve saw him, set up some speakers to spook him, and then shoved him in the pool. Nothing unexpected there.

But then Eddie opens his eyes.

Harrington’s on the ground. Harrington’s on the ground fighting against the grip around his wrist, pulling him toward the water Eddie’s struggling to stay afloat in.

It’s not a person dragging him, not a practical joker wearing a suit. It can’t be. The thing is standing upright, sure, but it’s too tall, too thin, too featureless. Its forearms are uncannily long, fingers twisting and look as if they have too many joints facing the wrong directions where they curl around Harrington’s wrist, claws sharp enough to make him bleed. Its ribs are showing. And there’s no face at all, just creased flesh puckered together where a mouth ought to be.

At least, that’s what Eddie thinks until Harrington struggles harder, fingers of his free hand digging into the crack in the pavement, momentarily stalling their forward momentum. Then, the seams where its head connects open, like a flower toward the sun, if each petal was fleshy and covered in dozens of sharp looking teeth. And it screeches, ear-splitting and horrible, as if reprimanding Harrington for not laying imobile like a good little live meal.

It tosses Harington into the pool. He hits with a splash, immediately flailing out, smacking Eddie on the side of his face. Eddie reaches out on instinct to pull the guy toward him, trying to keep the both of them above the water line while Harrington reorients himself.

It shouldn’t have taken long. Harrington is the captain of the swim team. He should have been able to kick his feet under him and been off to the other end of the pool within seconds.

It wasn’t fast enough.

Eddie doesn’t even see it move, it’s so fast. He’s holding onto Harrington, arm slung around the other guy’s waist, clutching tightly at the front of his sweater. Then, Harrington’s being pulled forcefully to the bottom of the pool, Eddie along with him.

All of his orifices are burning from the chlorine–throat, nose, eyes, ears. He feels blind, deaf, lost, anchorless, except for the feel of Harrington’s skin beneath his hand, so he clutches, hooks his hand through the guy’s belt to keep his hold.

There’s a sensation, like meat parting around him. Then he’s breathing, sucking in oxygen, eyes still closed, head spinning. Harrington’s ribs are rising and falling rapidly. It lasts only a moment, the pair of them breathing and touching and panicking in tandem.

Until there’s that sound. Foxes chittering strangely, but it’s echoing now, weirdly like they’re in a cave forty feet underground.

Eddie opens his eyes. The sky looks wrong–darker than it should be, and it almost looks like it’s snowing. One of the flakes hits Eddie in the cheek and he rubs at the spot, feeling it flake apart and smear across his face. Not snow. Dust? Ash?

They’re in some sort of pit made of concrete, cracked under the force of the sickly vines crawling across its surface. It’s deep enough that Eddie’s not sure how they’re going to get out.

It’s not until he sees the ladder at the edge of the hole that he realizes where they are: impossibly, in the bottom of Harrington’s pool, somehow drained of water and decayed and made wrong, in a matter of seconds.

The chittering turns to a growl. Harrington jumps up. Eddie’s hand, where it’s still tucked into his belt, jerks violently up with him, pinky getting stuck between belt and pants as he hastily tries to extract it. Harrington darts away, and Eddie’s pinky pops. It’s barely audible beyond the growling, but he feels it as a release of pressure and then sharp pain.

Eddie looks down at his now free hand. There’s chaffing on his palms, and his pinky sits at an awkward angle, already swelling around the knuckle where it connects to his hand.

Nausea rolls through him–shock, maybe–at the sight. More than the pain, it looks like another wrong thing in a long line of wrongness that makes up his night, this time, attached to his own body. He heaves, water spilling out of his mouth, burning with chlorine as Eddie forces his eyes away from his hand.

Harrington’s across the pool, holding some sort of pole with a torn net at one end, thrusting it into the creature’s mouth, farther and farther. But the metal’s warping, almost decaying under the saliva in the thing's face, pole becoming shorter and shorter until It’s almost upon Harrington.

Without thought, Eddie jumps to his feet, stumbling behind the thing and bashing his lunchbox into its head.

It’s probably the surprise of the hit that makes the thing stumble. Harrington wastes no time, jabbing the rest of his pole, fast and deep into its maw. It wails, the strike fast enough to get through whatever was melting the metal, piercing something deep inside the thing.

Eddie’s not stupid enough to think it’ll stay down. He skirts around the thing, latching onto Harrington’s wrist and pulling him along in his wake. He doesn’t hear the pole clatter to the cement of the bottom of the pool, hoping that means they have a little more time, doesn’t dare turn around to look as Eddie drops Harrington’s wrist to climb, hand over aching hand, up the ladder and out of the pool.

Nothing looks better once he’s topside. The sky is still wrong, filled with ash and discolored light. There’s vines up here, too. And it’s quiet, so quiet he can hear every sound Harrington makes as he scrambles up the ladder behind him.

Eddie doesn’t wait for him. He runs, fast as he can to the sliding door to the house, wrenching it open and falling past the curtain into the house. He hopes, hysterically, that no one sees him making such a fool of himself, hopes somewhere deeper that someone does and will put themselves between his fleshy body and whatever comes through the door behind him.

But no one’s there. Harrington’s kitchen is dark, the living room past it dark as well, a disturbing red glowing faintly through closed curtains like he’s landing himself in a scene straight from Evil Dead. There’s no shadows of partygoers moving, no top forty, no drunk teenagers to spill beer on his shoes.

He stands, frozen, something horrific building in his throat, like a scream or a sob as he stares, unmoving, curtains moving against the small of his back until something slams through them, pushing him to the cold linoleum.

He pictures teeth, swears he hears a growl, but when he twists wildly from his prone position to scoot backwards on his ass, arms preemptively raised, he sees Harrington sliding the door closed and clicking the shitty plastic lock into place.

It's hilarious, like the thing they’d both seen back there would be stopped by a little piece of plastic, or doors, or the safety of his house. Eddie bites back a laugh that’s fighting its way up his throat like chlorine, burning and not where it’s supposed to be.

Harrington’s back is shaking with the force of his pants as he yanks the curtains closed. He pivots, face devoid of anything as he bends down and yanks Eddie up by his wrist hard enough to sting.

“Harrington, the people–” he starts, but his wrist is yanked harder as he’s led up carpeted stairs and into a bedroom.

Eddie gets only a sense of plaid and emptiness before he’s being shoved into a closet, Harrington stumbling in behind him and closing the doors quietly and squatting down next to where Eddie had fallen. The outside of their thighs are pressed together. Something hysterical bubbles up his throat again at the irony of the moment. He bites his lip against it.

Harrington’s feet are beneath him, ready to jump and fight anything that might follow them up here. Eddie can’t seem to get his ass on the floor, the lethargy of shock making him complacent, the knowledge that he’d never stand a chance if that thing makes it into the house making the effort of vigilance not seem worth it.

Harrington looks fierce, like he really is in a scary movie, an action hero, the final girl, the one who’ll get to the end of the movie by any means necessary. But Eddie can feel his body shaking where their legs are pressed together. Eddie gets the insane urge to hold his hand.

It feels like hours pass like this, Harrington at the ready, Eddie succumbing to his sleepy shock, before Harrington slowly lowers himself to sit on the ground beside Eddie, knee overlapping his as he sits crisscross, still looking at the door.

“Harrington, what–”

“I don’t know, Munson.” His voice is a sharp whisper, biting in its carelessness. He doesn’t even look away from the closet door.

“Your house is just empty, man.”

That gets him a scoff and a loosening roll of his shoulders as Harrington finally turns his head to the side and meets his eyes. Eddie tries not to notice the way it slides his thigh more firmly atop his own.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Harrington demands, and for a moment, Eddie’s afraid he somehow heard his thoughts, another in a long line of indignities in this new world they’ve found themselves in, but he continues, “–the people? Not the flower monster that tried to eat us, or the red sky, or the shitty vines all over my house?”

“People means help! Who’s going to help us now?” Eddie demands, voice rising higher than it should. He swings his hand wildly, less of a gesture and more of a limb seizing with panic until it hits the closet’s wall with a hollow thwack, sending a bolt of pain from his pinkie finger down his wrist.

Harrington turns violently, almost climbing in Eddie’s lap in his bid to both cover his mouth and wrench his hand away from the wall and clutch it tightly in the space between their chests. Eddie bites his own lip at the pain of the squeeze. It’s dark, but he can see the way Harrington’s eyes are widened with fear, the whites too visible.

“Shut up,” he hisses, hand squeezing a little tighter around his cheeks.

They sit in the silence of the moment, staring at each other, ears straining for the sound of anything coming for them.

All is silent. Harrington’s hands ease away and he slowly shuffles out of Eddie’s space.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, almost reflexive.

Steve doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t turn away either. They’re still both staring at each other. Eddie’s too tense to feel awkward about it.

He sits in the silence. He’s never been good at it—the quiet. It eats at him, picks away at his skin until he’s back in a run-down apartment with a Father in jail and Mom gone from the room even as she rots away on the couch. The silence eats and eats and eats, until he can almost smell the mildew of the always-closed windows, can feel the springs of his old mattress digging uncomfortably into his back.

The springs prod him, and he blinks into the closet, Harrington’s finger jabbing into his side.

“Don’t crack on me now, Munson.” He’s not smiling.

“Aww,” he replies, trying to make his tone its usual cloying flirtation, “didn’t think you cared, your highness.”

He twists his mouth up at the side. It doesn’t quite land on a smirk—he can feel the way it wobbles. If Harrington notices, he doesn’t call him on it.

With a roll of his eyes, Harrington responds, “like you said, no people means no help, means you’re all I’ve got.”

“Don’t sound too happy about it,” Eddie mutters, but the house is too quiet and they’re sitting too close together.

Harrington scoffs, but he leans back further, settling fully on his ass for the first time since he’d dragged Eddie into the closet with him, like all he needs to feel at ease is Eddie being a dick to him. He’s not sure whether or not that’s infuriating or charming, but the knot in his throat that feels suspiciously like tears breaks loose when Harrington leans back on the heels of his hands.

There’s something to the ease of Harrington in this moment that makes Eddie wonder if he’s ever actually seen him at ease before. When Eddie had watched him across the lunch room, eyes unwillingly drawn to the jocks table, his shoulders were always relaxed, mouth always turn up at the corners, but there was still something so stiff about him. Eddie’s not sure he’s ever seen him lean back like this.

It's almost like, without eyes on him—or with only Eddie’s—his body has gone ragamuffin. A marionette with all it’s strings cut. It’s like. Like—

It’s like hiding from a horrific Lovecraftian monster in the alternative dimension version of his own closet with Eddie Fucking Munson is the first time Steve Harrington has felt comfortable in his own skin. Either that, or Eddie’s spiraling.

“Stop staring at me, man,” Harrington says, draping a hand over his eyes to block out the nonexistent light.

It’s only then that Eddie realizes he has been staring. He snaps his gaze to the floor, running his fingers through the soft shag of Harrington’s fancy carpet. It’s things like this that got him marked as queer within weeks of moving here.

“What’re we gonna do, man?” Eddie asks, like a broken record.

Harrington sighs, drooping further into the carpet. “I vote we go to sleep and hope this was all a bad dream.”

And as if his word had been decreed, Harrington stretches out as much as he can in the confined space, using a pile of dirty clothes as a pillow, and closes his eyes. The side of his leg ended up pressed across the entire side of Eddie’s thigh.

Eddie stares, struck dumb by the audacity of Harrington checking out in a moment like this. When his silence gets no reaction, he slumps down, dragging his cheek into the soft carpet as Harrington slumbers beside him. It feels like hours until he falls asleep.

Part 2

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #st fic #steddie upsidedown au #my fic

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carolmunson · 7 months

Text

spin doctor | e.m. x reader

mini ficlet, eddie munson works at a record store. he’s a little snobby. sort of shy!reader if you squint? it’s the very late 90s.

tw: 18+ references to smut/virginity, all around meet-cute-ish.

The rain slaps off the top of your coffee cup and into your eyes while you take a sip, woefully regretting not bringing an umbrella because the weather man said it was only misting. This isn't mist, this is just under a downpour, the hood of your dad's old canvas jacket doing little to protect you from the rain while it darkens with each drop the green fabric absorbs. You stop at the corner, protecting yourself from the weather under the awning of a laundromat. Squinting up towards the overcast gray sky, you double check the cross streets, two more blocks and you'll make it there. There being the record store that you found in the yellow pages after you inherited your parent's record player in their latest attic clean out. Your dad was smart though, sold all of the records that were in mint condition to collecters -- which left you recordless and sort of at a loss of where to start now that they were only sold at specialty stores.

You hurry your way down the next two blocks, finally seeing the sign for VI Chord Records lit up across the street in buzzing red neon. You wait to cross, seeing the reflection of the light in the wet asphalt while the sky starts to darken. Winter easing in slow these days while the nights start to come quicker than expected.

The door jingles when you open it, two guys at the check out counter looking up breifly and then back to their conversation; the other patrons don't even look. You take a breath, happy that at least no one is paying attention. You've never been to a record store before -- bought music, sure; CDs and cassettes but never vinyl -- that was like an old people thing. But your dad couldn't stop going on and on about how music just sounds better when you listen to it like that; and to be fair a lot of your favorites from the 60s and 70s sounded flat on your Walkman. You were on the hunt for the authentic experience now, the real deal.

You start at the 'New Arrivals' bin, pulling down your hood and taking off your headphones to put in your nylon back pack while you search. You sip your coffee while your fingers flick, flick, flick through the sleeves, crunching on and over the plastic protective covering of each record. You don’t know who most of the artists are, names hidden in intricate artwork or vulgar close ups of tits and crotch. You laugh at a few under your breath.

You continue your search, going over to the K section to see if you can find Carole King’s Tapestry, only to be inundated with Kiss record after Kiss record. Kix, Krokus, Kick Axe — King nowhere in the bunch. You let out a soft sigh, eyes scanning the back wall over the guys heads at the check out counter. Guitars hang on the velvet wall paper, gleaming with a fresh sign with scribbles of signatures on them. You land over by the S section, fingers flick flick flicking again to run into Slayer, T’s taken over by Twisted Sister. You don’t even realize how much time has gone by until you take a sip of coffee and nothing is left.

“Can I help you find something?”

You jump, not expecting to head a disembodied voice by the back of your neck, “Huh?”

“You just seem like you’re not finding what you’re looking for, can I help?”

You turn while he asks, one of the guys from the counter who looks like he’s stuck somewhere in the 80s and his grunge phase. His hair is to his shoulders, wavy and cut into a shag that put your moms 70s hair do to shame. The slight stubble on his chin and cheeks stretches with his smile — customer service perfection, but only for pretty things like you.

His crosses his arms over his army green tee, matching your coat that’s nearly dry now. His tattooed arms bulge slightly in the stance, straining against the small sleeves. Your eyes focus on the guitar pick dangling in the center of his chest; suddenly embarrassed by the attention.

“Um,” you start, eyes flicking up to meet his brown ones — soft and eager, like he’s excited to talk to you. Your eyes scan down to the black and gray flannel tied around his narrow waist, falling limply over his dark wash worn jeans into combat boots.

“Uh,” you stutter for a second, trying to not to get caught up in this handsome stranger, “I’m sorta new to records. My dad just gave me his but he sold all his good stuff so um — starting from zero I guess.”

“Ooh, nice,” he grins, “So a virgin, huh?”

You sputter, “Well um — no but —”

“Vinyl virgin, sweetheart,” he winks, “Don’t worry. I don’t need to know the horny details.”

“So what were you trying to find today?” he asks, leaning against the stacked milk crates full to the brim at the center of the room, “We actually just got some solid rares in if you’re trying to start a good collection.”

“I just wanna listen to oldies,” you laugh.

He laughs too, it’s smoky and cool, “Nah, nah, I hear you. What kinda oldies like — early Black Sabbath or…?”

You bite your lower lip, “I was more thinking like um, Motown? The Temptations? Maybe some James Taylor. I was mostly trying to find The Flamingos single for —”

He laughs while you continue on but then realizes you aren’t joking, head coming back to center, “Oh you’re, you’re serious?”

You feel heat lick at your cheeks and chest, sweat slickly creeping on the top of your back, “Yeah I thought…it’s a record store so—”

“Not that kind, princess,” he shrugs, hands dropping to lean against the crates behind him, “We only sell hard rock and metal here for the most part. You could check the dollar bins for drop offs, we don’t really sort those.”

“Oh,” you nod, averting his gaze while you see the big bin in the corner labeled ‘Dollar Donations’.

“Yeah maybe you’ll find your doo-wop stuff in there or something,” his voice has a hint of teasing to it that makes your teeth grit.

“Are you like, shitting on me?” you ask shakily, kind of surprised this is actually happening to you. That this guys is legitimately being a jerk over wanting music that maybe he’s not into.

“No, no, no,” he urges, “No. I’m sorry, seriously. It’s just that we don’t really get people who come in here not looking for what we sell. We’re kinda well known for being a vintage metal store.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t know that so,” you shrug, defeated weighing down your shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he assures, sweet smile tugging his lips up to reveal deep dimples, “You’re a vinyl virgin, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” you roll your eyes, making your way to the bin while he follows behind you.

“Maybe if you tell me what kind of music you like now I can find a good one for you,” he offers, hand resting on his chest that’s covered in silver rings and chipped nail polish, “I’ve been told I make great recommendations.”

“I’ve been liking Blink-182 lately. Backstreet Boys on the other side of the coin,” you shrug, “And um, one of my friends has been trying to get me into Nine In Nails.”

“Now we’re talking,” he smiles, “There we go. Anything else? What’s the other older stuff you like?”

“Uh, um,” you shrug again, “Elton John? Eric Clapton?”

He nods again, “Okay, some of this stuff I can work with. What about uh, hmm, Fleetwood Mac? Sort of your vibe?”

You smile at him without meaning to, making him nearly stutter at the site, “Yeah, that’s sort of my vibe.”

“Alright,” he nods while he racks his brain for the perfect album to pick for you, “I think I got an idea of what to pull for you.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms with a smirk, “Fine. I hope it’s impressive.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he grins cockily, “Never had anyone complain about me popping their cherry.”

“At least take a girl for a drink first,” you joke back, “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Eddie,” his hand extends out and you take it, his skin warm and slightly clammy at his never ending bumbling when talking to girls like you, “Happy to be taking your vinyl virginity today.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand slightly when you introduce yourself before letting go, “Be gentle, please. I’m new to this.”

“C’mon,” he cocks his head to the opposite wall by the ‘F’ section, “I got a lot to show you. We’ll go slow.”

He winks again; making you swallow hard. It might not have been where you meant go today, but it might have been exactly where you were meant to be.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie stranger things #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au

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littlexdeaths · 1 month

Text

sympathy for the devil - e.m.

demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)

i found god, i found him in a lover.

when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…

i found the devil, i found him in a lover.

and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas

word count: 3k

a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕

You knew he was here.

From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.

But maybe he wanted you to find him.

This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”

You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”

He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.

He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.

Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.

He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.

But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.

The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.

This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.

Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.

Lips that had been on you too many times to count.

“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.

After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.

“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.

Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.

And now you’d never get him back.

“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.

His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.

From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.

His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.

The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.

“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.

“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.

A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.

His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”

Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.

Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!

Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.

“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.

I’m warning you, dickhead.

His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”

“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.

“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.

Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.

Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.

His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.

The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.

The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.

The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.

“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.

While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.

The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.

You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.

“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.

Mine, not yours…

Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.

“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.

Fuck, that’s my girl…

You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.

It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.

The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.

She really is an angel…

The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.

The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.

“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”

You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.

Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.

“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.

Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.

You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.

“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”

Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.

Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.

“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.

His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.

“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.

“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.

In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.

You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.

In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.

Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”

Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #kas eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #kas!eddie munson x reader #supernatural x stranger things au

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Do You Know What Shovels Dig? Graves Part 1

Just dipping my toe into the shovel talks trend.

“Hey, Steve?”

Steve turned around and Jonathan frowned. Steve’s eyes were puffy and his nose was red. “Oh, hey, man. What’s up?”

Jonathan could tell he was trying not to wipe the obvious tears from his face. As if that wouldn’t draw attention to them.

“I wanted to talk to you about you and Eddie’s relationship--”

Steve crumpled. That was the only way to describe it. The man was barely holding it together as it was, but it seemed that that was straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Look, I get it,” Steve snapped. “Don’t break Eddie’s heart. It sooo soft and I’m suuuuch a bitch. I don’t need the shovel talk from you.” The last word was said with such venom, Jonathan was forced to take a step back.

“Who’s been giving you shovel talks?” he asked.

Steve threw his arms in the air. “It would be easier to list off who hasn’t. The Byers family and El, only I can’t say that because you’re here. So just Will, your mom, and El.”

Jonathan frowned. “Even Robin?” Because that didn’t sound right. He had seen the two of them together and they were like freakishly close.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve snarled bitterly. “That’s the latest one. The one that makes me just want to throw myself into the god damn pool.”

Well, shit.

“Apparently this is Eddie first real relationship and since being gay is so hard right now, breaking his heart would be a disservice to humankind,” Steve mocked. “I asked her about my heart and my first relationship with a guy. But apparently that is as important as Eddie’s experience.”

Now that? Jonathan didn’t believe. But Steve was clearly hurt and was being dramatic about it. Which he was going to allow because holy shit.

But apparently Steve was just getting started. “At least Eddie’s friends all showed up together to give one shovel talk so that was nice. Hop and Wayne each did it while cleaning their hunting rifles, like they weren’t terrifying enough. I mean Mike’s an ass, so his I could brush off, but Dustin and Erica? Why does Eddie get more loyalty from them when I literally saved their lives? But Lucas and Max also double teamed me, so that was all sorts of fun. Nancy casually brought up that she has three guns now. So yeah, just get it over with so I can go back to being the worst boyfriend in Hawkins!”

Jonathan forced him to sit down. “That was a lot to unpack, I’m not going to lie. But take a deep breath for me, can you do that?”

Steve nodded and took a deep breath.

“Now let it out slow,“ Jonathan continued. Steve followed his instruction. “Great now keep doing that until your heart no longer feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.”

Steve started breathing more normally and Jonathan sat next to him. “I’m not actually here for a shovel talk. I was wondering if you or Eddie would be willing to talk to Will about liking boys.”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “What?”

“Yeah, he’s going through a really hard time with it right now,” Jonathan explained. “And I’m not really getting through to him because I’m straight and it’s pretty much meaningless coming from me.”

“Oh.”

“But no, I get your reaction, dude,” he said. “I really do. Has anyone given Eddie the shovel talk?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like I can ask, is it? ‘Oh hey, Eddie, anyone threaten your life over our relationship lately. No, no, not homophobes, I mean our friends? No? Well that’s just peachy!’“

Jonathan barked out a laugh. “Yeah, no matter how you phrase that it’s going to come off as bitchy. Especially if no one has.”

Steve nodded.

“Look, if you talk to Will for me,” Jonathan said, “I’ll talk to Eddie. Deal?”

Steve looked at the hand for a moment before he shook it. “Deal.”

Jonathan knocked on the Munson’s door. Eddie opened it with a look of surprise.

“Look, man,” Eddie said with a sigh. “I don’t sell anymore. And besides your friend from Cali has better stuff.”

Jonathan held up his prized. “Oh, I’m aware, I’m offering to share.”

Eddie looked at him for a moment and then closed the door behind him. “Yeah, okay.”

Jonathan lit two blunts and passed one to Eddie.

Eddie took a drag and sighed. “Shit this stuff is good.”

Jonathan just smiled.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the share, man,” Eddie said after a few minutes, “but why are you here?”

“I went over to Steve’s to ask him if he would be willing to talk to Will for me,” he said after taking a drag.

“Because your brother is gayer then the May pole?” Eddie supplied.

“Yup,” he replied. “Only our Stevie wasn’t doing so good.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “What?!”

Jonathan tugged on his pant leg. “Sit down, dude. Let me explain before you go off half cocked and make things worse.”

Eddie sat down with a grumble. “You better start talking and you better do it fast.”

“In my experience shovel talks are for people you don’t trust not for people you care about,” Jonathan said slowly. “Only it seems our friends didn’t get the memo.”

“People have been giving Steve the shovel talk?” Eddie asked, eyes wide, jutting his chin forward in shock. “But no one’s said shit to me!”

Jonathan winced. “That’s kinda what me and Steve were afraid of.”

Eddie felt his heart sink to his stomach. “Do you--did he say how long it’s been going on?”

Jonathan shook his head. “But the fact that only my house and El haven’t given him the shovel talk I would probably bet since you two announced your relationship.”

“Shit,” Eddie whispered. “I bet the first two were funny, endearing even. Steve likes that kind of stuff. And then as it kept happening...”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed. “Has he been distant lately?”

Eddie closed his eyes and nodded. “Now I know why.” He thought for a moment. “Is there a way to call everyone together without alerting Steve, too?”

Jonathan shrugged. “If his boyfriend were to ‘accidentally’ turn off the walkie for an hour for some hot makeup sex...”

Eddie laughed. “I can absolutely do that.”

“I’ll set it up,” Jonathan said. He flicked the remainder of his blunt to the ground and stood up to grind it out under his boot.

Dang it, this was getting longer than I planned, but I’ll put out a part two later.

Edit: and it’s later! And part three! Part four and Part FIVE! Part Six!!!

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #jonathan and steve are friends

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years

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Safe and Sound

When Eddie and Steve settle into their relationship, the Party notices some...interesting changes about their Dungeon Master and their favorite babysitter.

Eddie has always been one of the most alert people they have known. It probably comes with the drug dealing territory and also being the town freak, he never knew when he’d get jumped on the street or simply tossed around for a good laugh of the local jocks. He always watched his surroundings like a hawk, his dark eyes sharp in contrast to the laid back smile. Eddie was quick on his feet, always ready to move out of the way or jump to the higher ground.

The Party can’t exactly put a finger on it at first, but there is definitely something different now that Eddie and Steve sat them down, explained to them that they got their wish, they finally get along, actually, they might be getting along way more than they ever hoped, and after some clarification ("is it because all of your dates in last year sucked, Steve?" asked Dustin and got smacked by Max in return) the Party congratulated them and pretended to gag at every display of affection. The first one to notice the change is Erica, they are all walking to get some ice cream before they continue their campaign and Eddie is taking notes, mumbling to himself and scribbling numbers in his notebook. Steve walks next to him, just a mere friend to an outsider's gaze. Eddie is completely immersed in the campaign planning and he nearly walks into the street light - but only nearly because Steve is there, gently grabbing Eddie's elbow and redirecting him out of harm's way. The metalhead just mutters "thanks, love" and keeps taking notes as if nothing has just happened. Erica rolls her eyes and scoffs at Eddie. "What happened to attention to your surroundings, not cool anymore?" and Eddie just smirks, not looking up from his notes, while Steve answers: "It's okay, I got him. Let him work on your dragon hunting thing so he actually gets some sleep tonight." Erica doesn't say anything after that, but the wheels are turning in her head.

The summer is very hot this time, and they decide to go swimming to the quarry, burying the bad memories under a pile of new ones, joyful ones. Steve stays with Eddie on the shore while the seven children test the water, splash each other and slowly escalate to a full-scale war. Mike spits out a mouthful of water after being dunked and prepares for counter attack, but his opponent - Max - is distracted. She's looking at their babysitters, slightly frowning. "I swear that normally Steve would be shouting his vocal chords away that we're taking it too far," she says and squints to look why they're not getting the usual load of motherly care. It appears that Steve is...sleeping? Well, that is unusual. His head is in Eddie's lap while the other man strokes his hair, watching the teenagers play. Max just shrugs and goes back to drowning Mike, but she makes sure to check on the two of them afterwards.

"Something wrong, Red?" smiles Eddie, his voice quiet not to wake Steve up. The hand in his hair doesn't let up.

Max shakes her head, watching the rise and fall of Steve's distractingly hairy chest. "No, it's just...I haven't seen him this relaxed in a while. I got kind of worried when he didn't yell at us for...well," she points towards the water where Mike and Lucas are wrestling.

Eddie just smirks. "He deserves the rest. You know he's been watching you tiny shits for years nonstop, so I'm taking over when he lets me. And as far as I'm concerned, if there is no loss of life or limbs, you're good. But keep it tame. If you make me get over there and wake Stevie up, there might be loss of life after all. Now off you go, gang up on Wheeler or something."

It's Will who manages to articulate what they're all unable to when Steve hosts the next Hellfire Club meeting, carrying trays of baked snacks to the table. His hand slips a bit, but before anything falls and ruins the pristine carpet, Eddie is there, stabilizing him. "I got you, love," he mutters and takes the tray from his hands. Steve just smiles back, no words needed.

When they disappear into the kitchen to bring drinks, Will smiles to himself. "They look so in sync," he mentions to Max who seems to be sharing his thoughts. "They've always been so..."

"Sharp? Alert? Freaking out about the next catastrophe?" she supplies.

Will nods. "Yeah. It's nice to see them finally being able to relax. I mean, I guess it comes with dating, but not for everyone. I'm happy for them. It...it must be nice," he finishes, a tinge of pink in his cheeks.

Max just smiles at him and squeezes his hand under the table. "You will get there too," she assures him. "And then Erica will be on your case all the time when your...partner..." she says quietly, not daring to voice her suspicions aloud, "has to hold you back from jumping under a car because you're too caught up in sketching."

Will snickers and Max joins in, giving his hand one final squeeze. "I'd like that," he says, his eyes bright, just like their future.

#steddie #domestic steddie #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #strangerthings #stranger things #strangerthingsdrabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #erica sinclair #steve x eddie #hellfire club #max mayfield

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year

Text

Jeff just looked at Steve’s retreating form wide eyed. “He’s a whole idiot. A fucking moron, I swear.”

Eddie was watching as Steve walked away as well, but with an altogether different emotion in his eyes.

“Steve Harrington is anything but an idiot.”

“How d’you figure?”, Gareth asked.

Because when you’re prey, you couldn’t afford to be stupid. A smart rabbit knew when to hunker down and hide. A smart deer knew when to bolt. Eddie had laid out the trap: a flirtatious remark. Steve had looked right down at it and turned away because he wasn’t going to be caught so easily.

Eddie was going to have to be smarter too.

--------------------

Eddie had a strategy when he wanted just blood. Get ‘em alone, compel them a bit, get a bite, leave ‘em disoriented and play it off like they’d just taken a weird hit of whatever strain he was selling.

When he wanted more than blood, when he wanted someone, he had a different tactic. It started with light flirting. The kind you could joke about. That was how he had started with Steve. But Steve had just looked at him, eyes wide and innocent like he couldn’t understand what Eddie was insinuating when he said he wanted a taste.

“And I don’t mean the cone”, Eddie had said, glancing at the ice cream in Steve’s hand.

That hadn’t landed. And it burned Eddie inside. He had to be more blatant. His fangs were itching to sink into that flesh but Steve Harrington had continued to evade him.

It all came to a head when Eddie found himself at a Harrington house party. Normally he hung around for a bit to deal, then bounced. But tonight he was planning on completing his conquest. Steve was always surrounded by people though. It was hard to pick him off.

There was a moment when he’d lost him. And in the heat and hormones of a teen crowd, he couldn’t sniff him out. Then someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Steve’s lookin’ for you.” It was some guy Eddie didn’t know well and he was talking like Steve was hankering for some weed. Like he couldn’t just find him himself. But some folks preferred to smoke to relax and not to party so he wasn’t too surprised to be sent up his room.

Eddie made it up there and found Steve, leaning against his doorway, a perfect line from head to toe. He looked up at Eddie through his lashes.

“Hey. Wanna come in?”

His bedroom. The room where so many had spent a night with Steve Harrington and came out with a story to tell. Eddie couldn’t believe it. Had he somehow lucked into Steve’s pants?

He took a step forward and caught an almost smug look on Steve’s face as he took a step backward into his room.

Wait.

Wait just a damn second.

“You’ve been hunting me.”

“I’ve been luring you, it’s a little different.”

“You know what I am?”

“I know you’re allergic to garlic. And that you need my permission to cross the threshold”, Steve said.

“And?”

Steve slipped his fingers through the belt loops of Eddie’s pants and pulled him in. Eddie closed the door behind him. To catch or be caught, either was fine by him.

#stranger things #steddie #apo writes #fanfiction #eddie munson

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writinginthetwilight · 2 months

Text

Knock, knock.

Neighbour!Eddie Munson x Neighbour!Reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ for smut in later parts if you are under 18 you do not belong here, be gone. AFAB reader. Stress. Strong language. Nightmares. Negative self talk. Horror-esk/creepy vibes. See Masterlist for full list of warnings.

Authors note: He's finally here, in the flesh.. ish. Thank you for all the love on the last part. Officially out of the introduction and into the meat of this creepy lil story.

Find @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq and @somnambulic-thing full prompt list here including the one that birthed this weird little world I'm making.

6. You move into a new apartment and soon discover that you share a wall with a very noisy neighbor. Loud laughter, talking, and music are a constant companion. When you decide to go over and knock on their door to confront them in person, you find that the apartment is unoccupied and has been for months.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. Love you and hope you're being kind to yourself, okay bye.

Part 4: Conspiracies made through the hardwood.

The smell is nostalgic.

In every home you lived in, in your formative adult life, the introduction had been followed by the earthy smell of burning sage, whisps curling in draughty apartments and catching the light in shared dorm rooms.

Tina, your college roommate insisted on every room being scrubbed down and smudged before you unpacked.

You'd since lost touch, but you still kept the tradition of scrubbing places head to toe when you moved in and now you can't help but wonder, had you kept smudging your homes could some of the negativity in your life have been avoided.

You aren't dead.

After the momentary spiral the other night you had righted yourself from entertaining the idea.

Ghosts didn't eat, sleep, pay rent.

Go to work.

What a fucked up purgatory it would be if you had to spend eternity listening to Shona chew at her desk while desperately waiting for payday.

But it didn't stop the rattle in your bones as you'd unplugged the radio, fetched it away from the wall and fitfully slept on the couch.

You tried to explain that night away, the note was easy, a neighbour was trying to scare you, it was a prank, a bad joke.

But the radio.

You scoured the internet for hours looking for reasons as to why you had picked up what was playing on the radio next door.

It's fairly common apparently, to pick up signals from elsewhere, but you're lost in jargon.

HAM radios, the chatter of people talking over radio waves, inanimate objects picking up signals and freaking people out.

Nothing quite fits, and the rabbit hole ends in bad ghost hunting videos and advertisements for spirit boxes.

So, you call Charlie again, under the guise of fixing the faucet. The noise from next door’s not outrageous by your own relatively low standards but enough to show that next door isn't vacant.

He's exactly as he was the day you met him, with a wide smile and bright eyes, you try your best to match it, despite the dark circles hidden beneath thickly applied concealer.

He hums and haws at the pipes and you can hear humming clearly from above you as he tinkers with them.

He's chatting to you absent-mindedly about a place downtown that sells the best cubans he's ever eaten, asking if you've been to various spots around the area yet.

He's not acknowledging the noise.

Even when laughter and the TV starts he just continues on until he finally catches you staring angrily up at the scar.

“Still giving you trouble?”

He can't hear him.

You can tell by the way he phrased it, as a genuine question not a reaction to the noise.

“I thought I could maybe still hear someone in number 5?”

He chuckles. “Taking a look around spooked you huh? “

“No, just the noise.” you wave above your head, all subtlety lost in the interaction.

He doesn't even glance up.

“Honey, there's no keyhole on that door, only way someone's getting in is scaling the walls or breaking down the door.”

He pats your arm reassuringly, then moves turning the faucet on and off again as the water runs smoothly out.

“Good as new.”

You're not dead.

But maybe he is.

So, here you stand white sage and lavender burning in your hand on a Wednesday night, desperate for something to work.

Step 1. Introduce yourself.

“Hello, Eddie.”

“I'm,” You take a deep breath and let your name slip out, despite the conflicting information online as to whether it's a good idea. “and this is my apartment.”

The silence hangs for a moment. You know he's there, can hear soft distant sounds of movement.

This is so fucking stupid.

You flick through the multitudes of tabs open on your laptop.

Step 2. Acknowledge they were here first.

“I know this is your home too, and you were here first but-”

“ I'm not dead.”

The voice echoes and warps down to you and you feel your stomach roll at the sound, quickly you scroll, there isn't anything about them talking back.

“You, might not know but this apartment was split-”

There's a nervous laugh that cuts you off.

“Yeah, whatever you are, you need to leave. This is my apartment.”

You try again but can't get a word in and you can feel frustration building, rolling up your back and making your jaw clench as he talks over you.

“Look, a maintenance guy changed the locks on room 5 the other day.”

He's not listening, and you increase your volume, trying to explain, the calm and gentle candence is gone, your voice now shrill and foreign to your own ears.

“So either your fucking with me and you're somewhere else or you're the one who's dead so if you would kindly leave me the fuck alone.”

You're practically yelling now, and you almost fall from where you've scaled the kitchen counter when there's a knock at the door.

He's still yelling.

It can't be him.

You walk hunched, heart pounding, anger still coursing through you. You're not sure if you want it to be him, if he's there in the flesh then you're not losing your mind at least.

But if he is, then you're about to be faced with an irate man who's just been screaming at you through the walls.

You latch the chain, and it rattles at the force needed to open it.

A woman a good decade older than you stands arms crossed with a scowl on her face that your mother would be proud of. Behind her shoulder, a man stands with an apologetic look on his face.

You recognise them vaguely, he was one of the few who had given you a small smile as you moved in when you passed them, she had not.

“Hi? Can I-”

“I don't know what's happening in there but do you think it's acceptable to be yelling at almost 11 pm?”

She sounds like your mother too.

The urge to ask them if they can hear him is fleeting and the only response you can muster is to press your lips into a hard line.

“If it carries on I'm making a formal complaint.”

You can feel your temper still simmering and don't trust yourself with any sincere retort so merely murmur your apologies and close the door on them.

She knocks again, obviously unhappy with your lacklustre response and you can hear the man trying to reason with her as you lean your forehead against the door.

No longer yelling, the sound of him moving around remains.

The rough surface of the door is grounding as you squeeze your eyes closed.

You can't live like this.

But there's a stone in the bottom of your stomach.

The rent really was a steal, and with at least another 6 months on your lease, probation at your job still ongoing, you're going to have to.

You can't go home, not after the arguments and upheaval.

The scene you made.

People who would welcome you back were still in the group chat, talking shit after sending their well wishes. The only real person who would sincerely welcome you back lives next door to your old home and that's not happening.

You’ll exist with your undead roommate, bury the feelings down.

You're good at it, pretending that you're fine.

You just hope eventually he leaves, so you don't have to, again.

The next week is, well, loud but you reinstate the headphones and earplugs that had accompanied you in your first few days and manage.

Living for the quiet moments in between the noise, they usually come in the early evening, the low light of lamps colouring the room in fire lit hues and podcasts on the speakers instead of headphones while you cook.

A sanctuary from the surreal.

Headphones in your pocket ready.

It's the exact state you're in when you hear the raucous sounds of a group entering next door, voices overlapping and unintelligible.

“You hear that right? Uh hello?”

This is new, he never actually acknowledged you.

He calls out your name and you pull the pan from the heat, cautiously walking around the counter to where the voices are loudest.

“It's Eddie.”

“Eddie dude.”

“Shh!”

Other dead people?

Maybe the whole building's haunted you muse, reaching over to give your dinner an idle stir, heat from the metal still lingering.

“Some people want to meet you.”

That gets your full attention, and you pause for a minute unsure if you should greet more spectors into your living quarters.

Surely it couldn't get worse.

“Hey, other dead people.”

“We're not.” he grits out "You heard that right, see?”

Silence

“ Eddie man-”

“ No, don't look at me like that.”

You frown hard at the ceiling, dots connecting but in no useful way.

They can't hear you, Charlie couldn't hear him.

“Letter, letter, I have a letter!” you can hear him scramble away leaving the concerned murmuring of the others in his absence.

“Look see I'm not crazy.”

More silence

“It's a noise complaint.”

“No, well yeah, but it's from them and-”

“Dude, why don't you go stay with Wayne for a while.”

He doesn't like that.

It sets off an argument that you try to track but the movement makes their voices pitch in and out.

They just want to help.

They're worried.

Just get out of the city for a bit.

A slam of the door.

“Eddie?”

It's tentative the way you say it, the silence loud.

You're not prepared for another shouting match but the desperation that was in his voice makes your chest ache, you can't just leave it, maybe you should, but he was an echo of how you would sound had you anyone here to tell.

“Nobody can hear you either.”

“I'm not dead.” The sudden sound comes from directly above you and makes you flinch, eyes snapping up.

“Neither am I.”

His voice goes an octave higher, already defensive, diving headfirst into a ramble that you can't quite catch as he paces and, once again you find that your voice is rising to match his.

You catch yourself this time though, not about to have to explain this to your landlord if you get an actual noise complaint.

So another note to your otherworldly pen pal it is.

I've almost gotten a noise complaint, so if we can stop screaming through the ceiling to each other that would be great.

Neither of us think we're dead, nobody else can hear the other.

My apartment was split. I went round to number 5 last week and they changed the locks.

It's been empty for years.

I don't know where you are but it's not next door.

You hear the front door open and close not long after you slip the note under and settle yourself crisscross on the floor to wait.

He's quiet, only small movements audible as you run clammy palms into the carpet at your sides, fibres scratching against your fingers.

There's the sound of his door opening, then the note edges its way under your own.

The page has indents in the top corner where an empty pen has been tried, the writing fading halfway down before it changes colour.

My locks work fine.

I called the landlord to see if I needed to wait that day, he said nobody had called him and it can't have been next door because it's empty.

Sure you're not dead? No bright lights, big tunnels calling you. Fire? I don't know, tiny red dudes with pitchforks. No judgement.

Also, I'm not shouting at the ceiling. Your voice has been floating around here like an invisible stalker for almost a month now.

No judgement. Fuck this guy.

Not dead.

No lights.

No tiny men.

So what is this?

You wait with the door latched this time peeking through, as a family passes by and you make accidental eye contact with one of the parents watching as they hurry the kids past.

You close the door quickly cringing, when there's a soft crinkle underfoot, your heart stutters at the sight of the note under your feet. This can't be real.

I propose 50 questions.

A sharp breath leaves you at the words, but maybe it's not the worst idea. You need to get a handle on this, need more information because currently you're flying blind.

Okay 50 questions, how long have you lived here?

Boring. 2 years. How many eyes do you have?

You laugh but then the idea that maybe you could be dealing with something other than a human makes you feel a little ill. A ghost is bad enough.

Two. You?

You snatch the note up when it comes through.

Two eyes. So human right? Two arms, two legs, head, ass, junk between your legs?

Thank God.

So were both human. That's a relief. This is harder than I thought it would be. Who's president?

Yeah? I was kind of hoping for alien contact myself. President’s Clinton. No supernatural abilities at all?

You frown at the note.

Hillary or Bill?

The family from before return with their takeout, catching you in the hall crouched and stuffing the note under the door, you try and smile casually, it's returned but you hear the youngest kid hushed when they ask their parents what you're doing.

Great, you're going to be that person in the building.

"You have to answer the question!" He yells in a singsong tone as you close the door and the odd stares from the family in the hall are enough for you to risk shouting back.

“What year is it?”

“The games no fun if it's one sided.”

You roll your eyes climbing on top of the kitchen counter. “Eddie?”

“1993.” The huff is evident in his voice but when you don't respond he calls out almost timidly.

“What year is it there?”

“2024.”

He asks a thousand questions straight away and you spend the next hour comparing music, media and anything else you can think of. There are slight differences, no traces of shows, bands and brands he talks about, too many to pass off as just being lost to the passage of time.

You can't even find Hawkins on Google earth, Indiana he says not Texas or Wisconsin.

He's never heard of your home town either but that's not surprising unless he has a detailed map of the continental US.

You explain the concept of googling to him for a good twenty minutes when he asks how you're getting all the information and you're worried you might have broken him from the sounds he makes when you tell him that people make a living playing dnd.

Then he's gone, abruptly, cursing about having to leave and already being late, leaving you wide eyed in the middle of your apartment.

You pad toward the letters that are discarded on the floor, fingers tips running over the indents on his words.

You take your phone out, take a photo and send it to Janet.

You can see these right?

Your phone’s on your chest when you wake, your last memories are that of a concerned Janet, informing you that you could come stay any time.

You'd played it down, explained a neighbour’s playing a prank, you were just playing along.

You didn't need her worrying.

Now as you go to respond the blank screen of the phone reflects your tired face.

A sound, a drip suddenly fills the space around you.

Not again.

You reason with yourself that maybe you should just stay in bed, nothing good yet to come from actually getting up.

He always said that you were a busy body.

The noise of movement makes you peek out of your sheets, the distinct sound of walking making your bare feet hit the ground, creeping quietly towards the door trying to avoid the spots you know creak.

There's somebody there. Your heart rate quickens as you watch them leaning over the countertop, head tipped, with wild hair falling to the side they stare up at the drip, eyebrows knitted, he's leaning in hand going in to catch the next droplet.

“I wouldn't touch that,” you say on instinct, body pushing past the safety of the door.

“Jesus Christ.” he recoils backwards away from you hands outstretched.

You know that voice.

Staring at you with wide eyes, you take him in. As if this couldn't get any more fucked.

“Eddie?”

He looks wearily back at you, a confused frown settling on his face for a moment before realisation takes over.

“Holy shit.”

“So you're just in my dreams now too?”

“Your dream?”

“Yes?” you put your hands out to the side displaying the mismatched pyjamas you're in.

“Okay, if this is your dream, why have I been waking up in it?”

He crosses his arms, looking you up and down. He's fully dressed, in jeans and leather jacket and as you take another step into the room you catch the smell of him, like he's just come in from the cold.

Definitely a ghost.

“Beats me. Maybe this is where I help you pass on.” you tease and you struggle to bite back the smile at the way his nose scrunches in annoyance

“I'm not dead”

You humm looking over the room, dancing wall of light, black abyss, all still intact.

“Wait?” you turn cautiously.

“Were you the one chasing me?”

He fumbles a little, eyes wide “I wasn't chasing you.”

“The hell you weren't, I almost broke my neck falling.”

“Well, why were you running?”

You gesture wildly around yourself.

“Why wouldn't I be? Why were you chasing me!?”

“To see who it was and what the hell was going on.”

You eye him warily, how much harm can he do in a dream?

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he takes a step back from you, hands raised.

Brushing past him to the bookshelf that blocks your door, your fingers running over the spines, some titles you know others you don't and you try to take a mental note to look them up when you wake.

“So this is the future.”

He's rotating the remote control in his hands inspecting it like something’s hidden inside.

“Kind of. I guess.”

“I expected more.”

“Like what.”

“More, Sci fi shit.”

“Robots in the shop, sorry”

He tsks

“Massive TV's though.” he falls heavily down onto the couch and you can't help but laugh at his impressed expression at the 30 inch second hand TV.

You pull your phone from your pocket and throw it over to him, it lands with a soft thud beside him and he flinches away.

“Electrics seem to be dead, so there's not a lot to show while we're here.”

“What is it?”

“A phone.”

He pulls a face between impressed and confused as he inspects it closely.

You turn to the drip, blackness now sliding down and puddling on the linoleum, inching towards the darkness where your kitchen cabinets should be.

That can't be good

His head turns to watch you as you follow the scar, no signs of a drip anywhere else. Your hands smooth over where it runs down the wall.

“Don't you think we should stay away from that?” he says standing up, still keeping his distance

“Why?”

“Why? Because it looks like a cavern to the underworld,” he says incredulously.

“What do you think’s past it? The light is your apartment so there must be something past it right?”

You lean forward and he rushes towards you catching your elbow just as the darkness hisses.

You both stumble back.

“Okay yeah no that was stupid.”

“You think.”

“I'm just trying to work this out.”

You shake yourself free of his grip and turn to go to the front door, but it's blank where it should be.

Had it always been gone?

You smooth your hands over where the frame should be, no sign it has ever been there or will be.

“What's wrong? “

You push your head through the light squinting as the room comes into focus, his door sits where it should.

“Your doors here. Mines. Not.”

“Your door would be .” he waves down to the abyss.

“No my doors here it-”

Doesn't look like it should be though.

Eddie's eyes search your face.

You move through the wall quickly opening his door as Eddie scrambles behind you.

The noise is deafening, all consuming blackness and screeching static howls as you recoil away, Eddie's arm curling round you as he kicks the door closed.”

“Can you stop?” he says, taking you by the arms and turning you to face him.

“We're trapped.” your mind's racing scrambling to be awake.

His face softens.

“Until we wake up. Right? You get the whooshing?”

His arms flail around his head and you nod mutely, heart in your throat.

It's just a dream.

“So let's just attempt to not piss off the overlords of this place until then, ‘kay? Obviously we're not meant to leave.”

It's just a dream.

“So what brought you to the apparent entrance of the nether realm with me,” he asks, turning to look back at you as you enter the hallway.

He walks through the frosted glass door and you trail behind following him through dust that dances in the strips of light, you're struggling to get your breathing right, lip crushed between your teeth.

You avoid eye contact walking into his room and inspecting the models that sit on his window ledge.

“It was cheap.”

He bounces as he goes to lay back on his bed, hands scrubbing his face.

“Yeah, wonder why that was. Cursed apartment, half price.”

“Comes with a free undead roomate.” you murmur, lips quirking up despite the quiver in your voice.

He gives you a deadpan look, but he's not as subtle as he thinks he is when his hand searches his neck for his pulse.

“What about you, no roommates, pretty big place for one?”

He bristles but you're too busy pressing the point of a tiny sword into your finger to catch it.

“Yeah, uh no just me.”

“Really? How do you afford it?”

“Anyone ever told you you're nosy?”

The sudden change in tone makes your face fall, his words causing heat crawl up your neck.

“Sorry.”

You walk quickly out, leaving to the quiet sanctuary of your room and sitting on the edge of your bed.

You hate how the words crawl around your head, like you're a bother, a pain in the ass.

You make things so difficult.

He appears out the bathroom door in your peripheral, his body leaning against the frame.

“I can't afford it”

You risk a glance, chewing the inside of his cheeks he stares at your partially blocked door.

“No?”

He stands upright about to speak when his hands fly to cover his ears.

Just as the rushing starts in your own.

Bent in half looking up to you, you manage to send him a grimace and a half wave, before you're gulping air.

Everything's quiet but the blood’s still rushing in your ears, sheets a tangled mess around you as you try to steady your breathing.

At least you're awake.

Two quick knocks come from behind you.

You're frozen, any intention of trying to make yourself believe this was all your subconscious leaving you in an instant.

Hesitantly, your body moves shuffling up onto your knees and you stare at the back wall.

Your hand hovers.

Knock.

The sound of distant traffic murmurs from outside.

A headache brews behind your eyes.

What the fuck is going on.

Next.

Tag list: @munsonburn3r @winchester-angel let me know if you would like to be added <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger prompts #knock knock #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab reader #my writing #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #Spotify

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morganski-19 · 4 months

Text

The One Where It All Started

This takes place about a year before the rest of the posts will be taking place. Just to set the stage before the real schnenanigans start.

“So I said that was a terrible idea, because there was barely any research done so it would be misleading to the readers, right,” Nancy continued her story about the piece she’s been working on at work.

“Yeah, that would make me pissed,” Robin added, following along.

Nancy nods in agreement as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Exactly. I would rather print nothing than something they made up. But of course, the boss doesn’t think so. I’m thinking of dropping the project, so my name isn’t attached to it, but then that just means I ‘didn’t have faith in the work’. No shit I don’t, it’s completely fake.”

“Fuck those guys,” Steve adds, partially listening as he’s grading his student’s assignments.

Jonathan and Argyle walk into the café, finding the group at their normal seats and joining them.

“My dudes,” Argyle bellows. “How’s it going?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Nancy groans.

Jonathan winces. “Those assholes at work again?”

“Yes,” Nancy exclaims. “I need to find another job but this is the best I could get after school.”

“Could be worse,” Robin adds.

“I know, I just hate working there.”

Steve stares at the paper in front of him with a confused expression. “What do you guys think of this one?”

He turns the paper around to reveal a hand turkey covered with red drops resembling blood. What would normally be the feathers are now plucked off and surrounding the turkey leaving the pink underneath. Or at least that’s what it looks like. It could just be pink feathers and a turkey standing on a pile of leaves. But that wouldn’t explain the X’s for eyes.

“Are you seriously grading hand turkeys right now?” Robin rolls her eyes. “And you think your job is hard.”

“Try to teach a bunch of first graders basic math after they’re all hyper from recess and then get back to me. And it’s not just hand turkeys. There’s also spelling tests somewhere in here.”

Jonathan takes the paper from Steve’s hand, showing it to Argyle better with a very concerned glare. “I think you might need to talk to this kid.”

“He drew a murdered turkey, dude. Kid’s got issues.”

Steve takes the picture back, assessing it more. “I mean, those could be leaves.”

Robin points to the picture. “And that’s not blood.”

“Yeah, I need to talk to the kid.” Steve turns it over and sees the name. “Wait, this is Bobby’s. His parents hunt wild turkeys. That’s normal.”

A man with long, brown curly hair approaches the group, wearing a leather jacket with a band tee and black jeans. “Sorry to interrupt but, Wheeler?” He turns toward Nancy, pointing softly at her.

“Oh my god, Eddie?” Nancy smiles standing up to give him a hug. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“Eh, it’s been better. But you, I saw the article you did last month. Best thing I ever read in the news.” Eddie sits down on the chair across from Nancy.

Steve is trying his hardest not to stare and keep grading his stack of papers, but it’s hard. Robin elbows him in the side and widens her eyes in a “Really?”. Steve shrugs in his defense, taking a sip of his mocha. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Aw, thank you. I worked hard on that. What are you up to now?”

“Kinda between jobs at the moment. I work as a freelance artist but I’m taking a break from that becoming a tattoo apprentice.”

“That is so cool, dude,” Argyle interrupts from across the table.

Nancy has a moment of realization. “Right. Eddie, these are my friends. Robin, Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle. Guys, this is my old friend from high school, Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.”

The group replies with varied greetings, Steve and Eddie holding eye contact a bit longer than the rest of the group does. Resulting with another jab in Steve’s ribs from Robin. He yells at her with his eyes for her to stop.

“So, do you live in the city now?” Nancy goes back to addressing just Eddie.

He scratches at his chin with a pained faced. “Kinda. Moved here to live with my ex a few months ago. And then he sort of cheated on me, so I’m trying to find somewhere else, but money’s kind of tight right now.”

“Ugh, that sucks,” Nancy winces. “I’m sorry.”

“Is what it is.”

Nancy turns to Robin, whispering something in her ear. Robin shrugs and whispers something back.

“You know, if you wanted to, no pressure or anything,” Nancy starts. “But, my old roommate just moved out and I’m looking for a new one. It’s a nice place my grandma rents to me so it’s rent controlled. I know we haven’t talked much since high school, but it’s yours if you want it.”

“Have to think about it, and see the place. But that might be nice.”

“And you’d live across from me and Steve,” Robin adds, earning her an elbow to the ribs.

Eddie smiles flirtatiously. “Well that does sweeten the pot.” He notices the hand turkey still laying on the table. “What the fuck is wrong with that hand turkey?”

“I already said I would talk to the kid,” Steve groans.

“Why is this is this kid going on turkey hunting trips anyway,” Jonathan asks, concerned.

Steve shrugs. “How would I know, not my kid.”

Argyle reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a joint, handing it to Steve. “For your troubles.”

“This group is great,” Eddie laughs to himself, already agreeing to Nancy’s offer in his head.

General information about the fic here

Tag list (just tagged everyone who seemed interested, let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417

#stranger things #stranger thigns fanfic #freinds au #steddie #ronance #jargyle #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #argyle #spicy six apartment schenanigans #morgan's friends au

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chronicrabbit · 1 year

Text

They’re arguing again.

It’s been getting worse recently; the constant bickering like an old married couple.

Steve could usually understand why Eddie was annoyed with him, their disagreements typically toeing the line between heated and playful.

Usually, it was because Steve got a piece of nerd trivia he “definitely knew” wrong on purpose to mess with Eddie.

Or a lot of the time, it was a disagreement on what to watch for movie night, culminating in Steve and Eddie attempting to speak over one another to deliver their point on why their movie was superior while they wrestled to grab at the other’s.

This time, though…

It had started with a comment from Jason Carver.

The asshole was bitter about the almost role reversal between himself and Eddie once Eddie’s name had been officially cleared, the government coverup painting him as the unlikely hero who’d fought off a crazed serial killer to protect the children who’d bravely gone to find him.

Hawkins citizens, not wanting to take the blame of organizing a town-wide witch hunt for an innocent 20 year old and a bunch of freshman, had turned the blame on their old golden boy, citing him as the instigator that’d “poisoned their minds against the Munson boy” and ultimately shunning him.

Jason evidently hadn’t taken too kindly to the change, demonstrated by the drink he’d hurled at Eddie’s head outside of the diner they’d just walked out of and the seething insult that’d barely passed through his teeth before Steve’s fist was connecting with them in a brutal hit that knocked the jock flat on his ass.

In the blink of an eye, a fight had broken out between Steve and Jason’s still loyal cronies, one that ended with Police sirens, a very unimpressed Hopper, and several broken noses and bruised knuckles, including Steve’s own.

Eddie had been stonily silent as he drove them back to Steve’s place, his knuckles white from the suffocating grip he had on his steering wheel and his gear shift.

Steve almost wished he’d left it at that, just allowed Eddie to drop him off and toddled inside to care for his wounds without prodding.

Maybe if he just hadn’t said anything, they wouldn’t be having the screaming match they were currently having in the living room of his house.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so upset about this!” Steve shouted, hands spread out in a questioning shrug as Eddie let out a scoff, rolling those big brown eyes with clear but no less confusing exasperation.

“Of course you don’t, Steve!” he shot back, continuing to pace across the floor with such intensity Steve would be surprised if he didn’t wear a path into the carpet.

“Of-fucking-course you don’t understand! Because that’s just what you do, right? See a threat and swing a punch without a single thought in your fucking head!”

Steve jolted back as if the shouted words were a physical blow.

He sorta felt like they were, a dull pain settling deep in his chest, familiar warmth bubbling up behind his cheeks and eyes.

He pinched at his nose to stave off the hot tears that threatened to spill, wincing as he agitated the no doubt nasty bruise forming on the bridge from a well aimed punch.

“Don’t-“ Steve started to say, his voice wavering as he fought tooth and nail to keep it steady.

“Don’t say that. You… you’re the only one that doesn’t call me dumb. Please…”

Eddie’s expression dropped in an instant, all of that tightly coiled anger disappearing in an instant as he turned to face Steve with deep and instant regret glimmering in his dark eyes.

“Steve,” he breathed, taking a hesitant step toward him. He closed the distance quickly as a tear escaped past Steve’s well laid and well practiced defenses, trailing down his shame flushed cheek before he could manage to stop it.

“Steve, I… I didn’t mean it like that. I’m so sorry,” he spoke in a shockingly gentle voice, as if he expected Steve to just shatter in front of him.

Maybe he would.

“You’re not dumb. You- fuck.”

Eddie’s head dropped down, hanging low between his shoulders as he reached out oh so carefully, taking Steve’s hands in his own.

Steve could feel his heart beating in his throat as Eddie smoothed his thumbs lightly over the bruises forming on his knuckles, the ghost of a touch that was still more than enough to send him reeling.

“I just wish you would think about yourself, sometimes, that’s all.”

Those huge brown eyes met his full force, darker and deeper than any ocean, more vast and more beautiful than the night sky, and Steve was certain he could lose himself in them trying to count each and every constellation.

“You risk so much of yourself all the time. If Henderson can be believed, you have been since ‘83. So many years of putting others before yourself, of being the brave one, the fighter, the protector.”

As if to prove his point, Eddie’s hand came up to hold Steve’s scraped up jaw, his thumb lightly tugging at the scabbed over split on his bottom lip.

Steve winced, but he didn’t move away.

Couldn’t.

“You take care of everyone else. But… who’s gonna take care of you?”

Eddie started to pull away, the lack of proximity, of guitar calloused hands on him, leaving him colder than he’d ever been.

Steve was moving before he could fully think it through, his hand coming up to grip Eddie’s wrist.

He pulled gently, bringing Eddie’s surprise slackened hand back up to once again cup his jaw while he leaned into the touch like a cat.

“Are you volunteering, Munson?”

Steve honestly couldn’t tell who moved first, but the two met in the middle, their lips connecting in a passionate kiss; the kind of kiss that made time stop, that launched ships, that made even the worst cynic believe in love.

A new warmth bloomed through Steve’s body, all encompassing like bright sunlight on a summer morning, and he had never felt safer or more cared for than at that moment, gathered up in Eddie Munson’s arms.

And Steve thought, if this is what happened when they argued, they should argue a lot more often.

#listen I just have a lot of feelings about them okay?#steddie #I will write as many Steddie first kisses as my mind can conjure up #this shit is therapeutic #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve/eddie #steveddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #all those tags

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justmeinadaze · 8 months

Text

Children of the Night Part 2 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Shhhhhhhhh my angsty brain has entered the chat :P.

Warnings: Vampire Daddy Eddie/ Human (kinda switch) Steve/ Human Sub Fem Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause Im me), voyeurism (kinda; Eddie watches his baby girl and baby boy play), FLUFF, Steve talks about how he and Eddie first got together and their matching tattoos, ANGST (Sooooo much angst), Reader gets hurt (Shot) and the boys have to do sudo surgery to help her, blood drinking is mentioned in a bit of detail, reader touches on her rough childhood (brief), mentions of homophobia from their town and Steve's parents as well as some people online, Eddie waking up in the upside down is mentioned near the end.

Certain events from the show are mentioned (the deaths) but in this AU they'd happen in 2003 not 1986. I think that's everything.

Word count: 6110

When you woke up the next afternoon, Steve was missing and Eddie was fast asleep on his back beside you. Your eyes took a moment to fully take him in as you scanned the tattoos on his bare chest. He had a few mundane ones but a couple struck your attention. Near his heart was a month and a year; March 2003. Along one of his left ribs were lyrics from a song you knew fairly well; “You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be” along with the initials S.H. and the year 2002.

Getting out of bed, you went on the hunt for Steve and found him in their kitchen washing dishes.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Steve.”

The man softly smiles along with you as you reiterate each other’s names.

“Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich.” When you nod he begins heading towards the fridge before pausing to face you again. “Um, full disclosure, Eddie’s blood that he snacks on is in here as well. It’s not…like…open or anything but I thought I should tell you just in case it makes you uncomfortable or…”

“Oh, no. It’s ok. I don’t mind.” Grinning at your answer, he pulls out everything he needs and places it on the counter. “If he has blood in the fridge then why does he feed on you? Is it different?”

“Uh, kind of. Think about it kind of like how we humans snack between meals.” His gentle honey eyes glance your way before he continues. “Plus, he doesn’t feel comfortable taking a lot from me. He’s afraid of doing real damage. What he does take isn’t enough to be long lasting.”

“He seems to really care about you. How long have you two been together?”

Steve chuckles as he continues to focus on the task in front of him. “I like how you just found out vampires are real but your first question to me is about our relationship.”

“Hm. Like vampires, a non-toxic relationship always seemed like a fairy tale.”

His eyes met yours before sliding over your food and you flash him a polite smirk as you thank him.

“Eddie and I have been together for a little over three years. We technically grew up together but didn’t get to know each other till his third senior year of high school. He failed a lot.”, he laughs under his breath.

“Three years…2002?” Steve gives you a quizzical look as he nods. “He has a tattoo with lyrics, initials, and that year. Are you S.H.?”

Raising his tank top, he shows you his own tattoo on his left rib.

“I’d give up forever to touch you. E.M. 2002.”

“The first time I made a move, this song was randomly playing on the radio. Eddie kept talking about how corny it was. I told him I thought it was romantic and the fucker laughed at me so of course I had to kiss him.” You giggled at his story as he took your empty plate and placed it in the sink. “After I thought I lost him, I got this tattoo.”

His face fell at the memory and your heart broke for him. Trying not to dwell, he quickly cleared his throat and tried to shift focus.

“Enough about me. Tell me more about you.”

“I mean you already know the bulk of me.”

“I know about Mina. I feel like I don’t know much about Y/N.”

“There isn’t much to tell. I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s pretty much been me and my best friend… I don’t have a lot of friends or family. I have a brother but…that’s a long story.”

“What about your parents?”

“Gone. My father died when I was young and my mother is in jail.” Steve’s head tilts at your confession, not in judgement but in understanding. “Are your parents still around?”

“Uh no. They were kind of out of my life long before we moved here. We grew up in a small town before we moved here and when rumors started to spread that I was ‘fucking the freak’ they cut me off and pushed me out.”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Steve. What about Eddie’s parents?”

The watch on his wrist beeps as he glances towards the window.

“He’ll be up soon so you can ask him that yourself.”

***

“What are you doing?”, Eddie asked as he came back into his room.

You wanted to give them some time alone and allow the long-haired boy to eat without you gawking at him so you hid out in their bedroom and did some work on their computer.

“Hey. I hope it’s ok, I wanted to do some quick checks on your site since I wasn’t able to moderate last night.” Pulling up an extra chair, he sat beside you as his eyes scanned the screen in front of you. “So like cursing and some of these lewd sentences Steve doesn’t care about but things like this where people threaten to hurt others or… these homophobic comments.” Your eyes glance his way as a low growl rumbles from his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie blinks as if coming back into the moment.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you—”

“No, I meant…sorry you have deal with ignorance like this.”

“I don’t care if it’s directed at me. I’ve dealt with it my whole life but… he deserves better.”

“Steve told me about his parents not approving of you two; that the town you came from called you a—”

“Freak. Yeah. I was always a bit different than people there; the nerd who played D&D whose father was arrested.” Your palm comfortingly rubs his shoulder and he sighs in pleasure at the action. “He told me your mother was arrested. May I ask what for?”

“Parental neglect.”

His eyes met yours as you both read each other. Two people in this world who understood what it was like to grow up a certain way; to be a part of a club no child should ever be a part of.

Managing a smile, you turn your attention back to the monitor to continue what you were doing before. Cold fingers run through your hair, gently petting your head as your eyes flutter closed.

“You can ask me questions now if you want to, sweetheart.”

Swiveling around in your chair to face him, you hang your head and he can’t help but look at you with confusion.

“I don’t want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable.”

“Hey.” He lifts up chin and gives you what he hopes is a comforting smile. “I’m telling you it’s alright.”

At that moment, Steve walks in, handing him a black mug that blocks out its contents, and takes a seat on the bed across from where you two were sitting.

“What does the tattoo on your chest mean? The 2003?”

On impulse his hand hovers over it through his shirt as he tenderly grins at you.

“That’s when I died. When my…human heart stopped beating. Steve says I’m too dramatic.”, he chuckles trying to lighten the mood.

“He is.”

“You two got together a year before he died? Steve…”

“We’ll save that particular story for another time, honey.”

“Are there other vampires?”

“Um, I’m not going to lie we aren’t sure. We’ve tried doing research but can’t seem to find much of anything. Same with our friends.”

“You have friends?” They both laugh at your question making you giggle to. “Sorry. I just meant that you both seem like you spend a lot of time alone.”

“That’s fair. One of our closest friends set up the stream for us and does some AV Club tech mumbo jumbo to reroute the feed so no one can find us.”

“Why did you guys decide to stream what you do?”

“Money.”, they answer at the same time.

“When we left our hometown, we left with nothing. We still need a roof, I need to eat food, and he needs to be safe.”, Steve explained.

“Ok, so, you need a roof but no coffin. I imagine because it’s now nighttime, sunlight is a no go?”

“That is correct. Um, silver seems to hurt a fucking lot and crosses. I heal pretty quickly and I’ve been able to heal him. It’s just those little bites though. Thankfully, we’ve never had to try bigger wounds.”

“Can you transform like Dracula?”

“Uh…I’m not sure you want to see that but yes. It’s not like one of those cute little black bats or anything. I shift into the bats that bit me.”

“That’s how you were turned?” Eddie nods. “Is that…is that what your scars are?”

“Another time, Y/N.”

“Steve…I told her it was ok to ask and will there ever be a good time to tell that story?”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Again, why the fuck do I even bother? You never listen.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and watches him stomp out of the room.

“And I’M the drama queen.”, he jokes.

“No, I understand. He lost the man he loved for a time. I can’t imagine what that does to someone.”

“Have you ever been in love, princess?”

“The way you guys are no. I thought I was once but…”

“It wasn’t with that douchebag right?”

“No.”, you nervously chuckle. “No. I think with John I thought it was better to go through what he put me through than be alone. I hate being alone.”

“Yeah…I know the feeling.”

“Eddie, did you kill him? John.”

The boy’s jaw clenched as looked away from you. “Yes.”

“What—What did you do with him?”

“It’s better if you don’t know, Y/N.”

“Is that normal for you? Killing people.”

Something in the atmosphere changed as the vampire beside you began breathing heavier.

“Is that what you think I am? Some fucking monster that just hunts people and murders them for their blood?!”

“Eddie.”, Steve tried to comfort him as he powerwalked back into the room when he heard his partners voice raise. “Baby, everything’s ok.”

“I’m NOT a monster. If anything he was for hurting you!”

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for my question to come out that way. I just…I’m learning. I know you were protecting me. I don’t blame you.”

The man pushes Steve back and vanishes out of the room as he runs out the front door. Sighing, he puts his hands on his hips as he hangs his head.

“I told him I didn’t want to hurt him. He insisted I ask questions.”

“I know, honey. Eddie’s always been the kind of person that doesn’t know how strong he actually is. Because of that, he overestimates how much he can handle. I on the other hand know what I can and can’t. I’ve already had the worst day of my life so I imagine nothing can be heavier than that.” His eyes glance your way before continuing.

“He’s tried to explain to me before the feelings he gets but it’s hard without feeling them myself. Depending on the emotion, he says it can physically hurt. I imagine whatever he sensed the other night… it was bad for him to kill your boyfriend.”

“When he brought me here, you said you knew he killed him because you knew him.”

“Eddie’s like a knight in shining armor. If he senses someone he cares deeply for is in danger he’ll…he’ll do what needs to be done.”

“Did he do that for you?”

“Come on, Y/N. Let me drive you home.”

########

You couldn’t sleep at all that night, tossing and turning till you finally just gave up. Taking a seat at your own computer, you decided to do some research of your own.

“E.M. +mysterious death+ S.H.”

A few things came up at first but nothing really stood out until you landed on small publication from a tiny news station in Indiana.

“City mogul’s son Steve Harrington missing; 2 of towns prominent citizens murdered!”

“S.H.”, you mumbled to yourself as you continued to read.

“Police found the bodies of two young men brutally murdered outside of the Forest Hills Trailer Park this past Wednesday, June 15, 2003. The boys had recently graduated from Hawkins High School and it is unknown at this time what they were doing in the area as that was not their place of residence.

Wayne Munson, fugitive Eddie Munson’s uncle, told our reporters that it wasn’t uncommon for people to come and harass him but there is no proof that is why they were there. Further analysis of the crime scene found the young Harrington’s DNA mixed with the others but his location at this time is undetermined.”

“E.M.”, you sigh, clicking the hyper link on his name.

There he was. A picture of a younger Eddie with a group of boys wearing a shirt that read “Hellfire” in front of what looked to be a high school cafeteria wall. He looked a bit different than he did now. As he bit his bottom lip flashing the rock & roll symbol with his hands, he seemed happy. Nothing in his demeanor that you saw matched the headline that followed.

“Eddie Munson Wanted for Murder of Young Girl.”

“Edward Munson is the prime suspect in the murder of young Hawkins High Cheerleading Senior Chrissy Cunningham who was violently butchered in the younger Munson’s residence before he fled the scene. Munson is wanted and possibly armed so proceed with caution! Call Chief Powell if you notice anything suspicious.”

There were more articles underneath discussing the case as new murders piled up and Eddie was blamed for every one of them.

“I’m not a monster.” Eddie had insisted and you believed him but obviously something happened.

Knocking on your front door gave you pause and you hastily turned off your monitor before running to answer it.

“Arthur. How can I help you?”

“Where is my brother?”, he snarled.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen John in two days.”

“Bullshit! He said he was coming over here to talk to you but he never came back home.” Shoving his shoulder into the door, he pushed past you to look around your house.

“Arthur, get the fuck out! I told you he’s not here! I don’t know where he is!”

“Oh you don’t? How did you get that black eye, Y/N?”

“A souvenir he gave me before he fucking left.”

“Problem?” You jumped 3ft in the air when another man entered your house but this one you didn’t mind. Steve squared his shoulders as he placed himself in front of you. “I think she’s made it perfectly clear that he’s not here.”

“And who the fuck are you?”

“That’s none of your fucking business. Now…leave.”

Arthur strides forward till he’s face to face with the man in front of you as they stare each other down.

“It’s my business if you did something to him. If that whore is fucking you and John found out he would have made sure that neither of you were heard from again.”

“Get. Out.” Steve’s voice startled you. In all the time you had known him, you had never heard him be so authoritative. “This is my final warning.”

They stared at each other for another few seconds before Arthur bumped his shoulder with his own and stomped out the door. The man’s demeanor in front of you instantly deflated as he turned to check on you.

“Are you alright? Eddie sensed something and—”

Your lips cut him off as they crashed to his own. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with what was happening but when it did, he fully embraced it as his palms came up to cup your face and hold you close. As you pulled away, his thumbs caress your cheek tenderly as he smiles.

It all happens so fast.

There’s a loud bang and a sudden sting that pierces your side. Your hands shoot out to grab his biceps as the sound of growling and screaming fills the room.

“Steve?”

Your knees buckle as he catches you and once again you hear the familiar sound of their heated words.

“We have to get her back to our house! Come on!”

“No! She needs to go to a hospital!”

“If she goes to hospital, Steve, she WILL die! This isn’t a debate.” You wince when your roughly lifted into arms and the wind blows through your hair as you’re placed down on something hard. “Ok, princess. We’ll be right back.”

As soon as you start to cry, you feel a palm moving your hair out of your face.

“No! We have to get the bullet out first. Fucking hell! I still think she should be at a hospital. We don’t even know if you can heal a wound like this!”

“You can yell at me fucking later! Do whatever you have to do!”

“Eddie?” The vampire kneels beside you as he tries to dry the tears that are falling down your face. “I-I don’t think… you’re a monster.”

“Baby, don’t worry about that right now, okay?”

“I’m sorry. I like you both a lot…fuck…I think I could have been…a-a good Mina to your stream.”, you laugh weakly.

“STEVEN!”

“I’m coming! Ok, shit. Roll her on to her side and hold her still. I need her still, Eddie. Y/N, bite down on this ok, honey. I’m not going to lie; this is really going to fucking hurt.”

You take the wooden spoon he hands you and place it between your teeth as the long-haired boy holds you firmly in his grasp. You had never felt anything this bad before. As Steve dug into your wound, you bit down so hard on the material in your mouth you thought it would break.

“I know. I know, baby. You’re almost through this!”, he soothed through gritted teeth as he focused on the task in front of him.

You tried so hard to stay still but every synapse in your brain was telling you to run from the thing causing you this much pain. Eddie’s grip tightened as he held you in place while he squeezed his eyes shut. The truth was he could feel your hurt and Steve’s panic which was tearing him apart. That mixed with the delicious smell of your blood on their table was making things even harder for him.

“Got it! Go, Ed.”

He released you from his hold, quickly yanked off his shirt, and reached for the butcher knife to cut a line along his chest. Steve placed you gently on his lap as the vampire positioned your head towards the wound.

“Come on, sweetheart. I need you to drink.”

A little bit of his blood dripped onto your lower lip and your eyes widened at the taste. It was the most delicious thing you had ever had in your life. Your mouth opened wider as your limp arm tangled around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you did what he commanded.

“Fuck…is…is it working, Steve?”, Eddie moaned.

The man nodded as his eyes remained studiously on your back as he watched it gradually begin to heal. The metalhead’s fingers threaded through your hair as he held you to him.

“Baby, you-you may have to pull her…away when its time because…fuck this feels so fucking good.”

“Ok…Ok, Y/N. You’re good. Let’s not push it.” As Steve reached for you, the metalhead growled like a dog with you try to take away its toy. “Eddie…I have to take her. We don’t know what too much of your blood can do.”

To his surprise, it was his partner that pull your hair, tugging you back so his lips could mingle with your now stained ones. Your own palms cupped his cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth making you moan at the feeling. You didn’t think anything of it when his kisses travelled to your neck.

“Eddie. No.”, Steve warned but his boyfriend didn’t hear. He was so wrapped in your taste and smell as he continued to move.

Abruptly, he hissed and dropped you to the floor as he ran out of the house.

“Wh-What happened?”

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you into the shower.”, Steve deflects as he put the little silver cross in his pocket and lifts you into his arms.

##########

With your knees under your chin, you sat in the warm water and allowed Steve to clean you. He originally planned on leaving you alone but you begged him to sit with you. Rolling up his sleeves, he placed himself on the floor facing you as he washed the blood from your skin.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” As you nod your head, his fingers gently reach under your chin, and turn you to look at him. “Can you verbally answer me?”

“I’m ok. I’m… No, you won’t believe me.”

“Baby, I’m in love with a vampire. You’d be surprised what I believe.”, he jokes; softly grinning when you laugh.

“I’m…more in shock that…Arthur tried to kill me. I… I knew John was….you know…John but. I just never thought either of them would hurt me like that. I-If it wasn’t for you two…I wouldn’t be here.”

“Shhh, hey, everything’s alright. You’re safe now. Nothing like that is ever going to happen to you again. I’m sorry I couldn’t…protect you…but thankfully Eddie got there in time to keep things from getting worse.”

“Steve, what are you taking about? You did protect me. I was so scared but I felt safer when you showed up. You also just kept me from dying so I’d say you did more than protect.” Your eyes scanned him over as you politely smiled before getting to his feet and helping you out of the tub. “I feel like I should tell you something.”

“Some other time, pretty girl.”

After pulling one of their shirts over your head, he goes on the hunt for shorts so you would feel less exposed.

“Steve Harrington.” The man freezes in place as he listens to you speak. “Eddie Munson. Two boys from Indiana who went missing. One around March 2003 and the other a few months later.”

“Steve?” Eddie was suddenly in their bedroom doorway with a concerned look on his face. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? I felt you in pain.”

“Wanted for murder of three kids including a high school cheerleader.” The vampire swiveled his head in your direction as his eyes narrowed. “I-I found some articles online. There were also two boys murdered outside of…Wayne Munson’s trailer the night Steve disappeared.”

“I know you didn’t kill those kids—”

“The first 3, no. The two a few months later—”

“Shut up, Eddie.”, Steve huffs. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then leave and I’ll tell her.”

“No.”, the man responds curtly as he kicks back into gear and finds a pair of boxers, tossing them in your direction. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone with her right now.”

“Excuse me?”, the vampire snarled as his posture straightened. “I just helped save her life.”

“You also were about to drain her and I’m not going to let you do that! She deserves better!”

“You keep saying that like living with me is a chore, Steven. Like you’re in prison or hell.”

“We’re both in fucking hell, Edward. That’s what this is.”, he gestures around him.

“You can leave any time you want to, babe.”

“Don’t you do that! After everything I do for you and everything we’ve been through, don’t condescend to me!”

“What do you want from me?! Do you want me to go back where I came from? Act like I didn’t fucking crawl to get back to you.”

Steve’s fist raised and you gasped as he smacked the vampire in the face.

“You don’t get to do that. I was there to, Eddie.”, he sighs as he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m tired. All the running, hiding, and fighting…worrying. If you bite her, all of that becomes her burden to. And god forbid we ever need to run again, I don’t want her to experience what I did. To know that empty feeling I experienced when I thought you were gone.”

Dropping the shorts he handed you to the floor, you went to sit beside him and tenderly ran your fingers through his hair.

“Even before we began talking, I watched you take care of him. I’ve never seen a love like that before. My parents hated each other and all my exes were trash. Steve… you deserve to feel good to. You deserve to have a good life. Let me…help you.”

With your hand on his cheek, you turned him to face you, bringing his lips back to yours.

“It’s ok, baby. You can use me. Let go.”, you whispered when you felt him holding back.

Steve glanced towards Eddie who smiled in return before grabbing the desk chair and placing himself in front of you both.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. Daddy can take care of himself tonight. Take control. Show Y/N what King Steve Harrington could do.”

Something flashed in the boy’s gaze when it shifted back to you; something more dominate you had never seen from him before in their previous streams. Pushing you back towards the pillows, his kisses came at a much more hectic and stronger pace.

Your fingers tugged at his shirt and he quickly pulled it off, groaning into your lips as your palm ran down his chest. His own hand caressed your thighs, slowly tracing your skin till his digits found their way between your folds.

“Please. Touch me, Steve. Can you feel how wet I am for you?”

Heavily sighing, his eyes locked with yours as his middle finger slid into your entrance.

“Fuck me. Honey, your so fucking tight.” As he slowly moved his finger, his thumb began circling your clit causing your eyes to roll as you moaned. “She’s just fucking clinging to me, Daddy. Shit.”

Eddie stifled a groan of his own as he palmed the bulge in his jeans.

“Yeah? Why don’t you put another finger in there? Give her taste of what she’s in for.”

“Can I taste you?”, you plead.

Watching with eager eyes, you wait as he leans back to push off his pants and hastily gets to his knees, pumping his cock in his hand as he brings it to your lips.

“Jesus, Steve. You’re so fucking big.” Your tongue darts out to lick the precum from his tip and the whimper he makes has you clenching, desperately needing him to put his fingers back into your needy hole.

“Say it again.”

“Your cock is so big. It’s gonna stretch me open.”

“Fuck—yeah I am, baby. Open your mouth.” You do as he instructs, opening your mouth wide as you stick out your tongue. “Good girl, Y/N.”

Thrusting his hips, his length moves between the opening making him mewl as he lifts up your shirt and kneads your breast with his hand. Hearing someone spit, he glances towards Eddie right as he was bending over his dick, allowing a glob of drool to land on the tip before stroking it along himself.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore as he turned your head towards him and fully pushed his cock down your throat. While one hand petted your hair, the other returned to your cunt as he slid two of his fingers inside of you and pumped them at a fast pace. You were barely able to catch any form of breath as you whimpered and your throat constricted around him.

“Goddamn it. Yes! Come on, baby. Cum. Cum for me.”

As his fingers curled inside of you, you moaned loudly as he held your head still while the dam broke and you came.

Steve’s eyes were wild with lust as he pulled back and passionately kisses your lips as you gradually came down from your high.

“Come on, Y/N.”, he murmured. “Let’s give Daddy a good show.”

You allowed him to take control as he moved you around till you both were facing Eddie with you on your hands and knees. The wheels of the desk chair rumbled along the floor as the vampire scooted till he was level with your face. His cold fingers grazed you skin as he helped you take of your shirt before caressing your cheek.

“You both look so beautiful like this. God, I wish you two could smell and feel how I do. You’re right, princess. He needed this. All that fucking testosterone of being in control just radiating from him and the scent of your cunt just begging for him. Fuck me.”

While Eddie talked Steve positioned himself behind your body, mewling as he guided himself into you. The metalhead grinned as he watched your eyebrows scrunch together as he began stroking his cock again at the sight.

“I know, baby. You can take it. G-Good girl. Look at Daddy, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so pretty. How does she feel, Steve?” The man had both eyes closed while his hands took hold of your waist as he did small thrusts inside you. “Steve Harrington, I asked you something.”

“Tight…warm…fuck…”, he grunted.

“What about you, baby girl?”

“Full. He-He’s so deep. Agh!”, you whine as Steve roughly smacks his hips against yours. “Can I kiss you, please?”

Nodding his head, his fingers tangle in your hair as he leans forward allowing you to taste his lips. You groan as the man behind picks up his rhythm at the sight, thrusting into you with purpose as he hits your sensitive spot over and over.

“Don’t take your eyes of me.”, Eddie commands as he leans back and continues stroking his dick in front you.

Steve leaned his chest onto you to your back, reaching under your body to play with your nipples and massage your tits in his large palms.

“You feel so good, Y/N. So fucking wet and tight. Fuck. You take me so well, pretty girl. I knew—mmm—I knew from the first moment we talked to you…”

“W-What, baby? What did you know? Tell me, please.”

“You’re different.”, he grunted in your ear. “You don’t deserve the bullshit you’ve been through.”

Your arm reached around his neck and tilted his head so you could kiss his lips.

“I don’t ever have to worry about that again right, Steve? I’m safe with you two.”

“Fuck.”, the man growled as he pushed up onto his knees, tugging back on your hair to bring you with him. “Yeah, honey. You’re safe.”

“Jesus, it’s been—mmph—its been awhile since I’ve seen dominate Steve.”

You don’t see it but the man smirks at his vampire boyfriend as he thrusts faster into you, clinging to your body as his fingers come down to rub your clit.

“Cum, baby. Please. I need to feel you squeeze my dick the way you squeezed my fingers. Make sure y-you keep your eyes on Daddy when you do, pretty girl.”

You did as you were told, staring into Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes as you moaned Steve’s name till you were blinded by white and nearly collapsed in his arms.

“Yes! Good girl. Such a good, beautiful girl. Where can I cum, honey?”

“In-Inside. Please.”, you mumbled.

Steve glanced towards Eddie who nodded in approval and with a few more rough pumps you felt him coat your insides.

“Shit. Come here, big boy.”

After carefully pulling out of you, you watched with half lidded eyes as Steve dutifully jumped down in front of him and took his partners cock into his mouth. Eddie groaned as his movements began choppy and he came down the boy’s throat.

***

Eddie coughs before his eyes shoot open and he sits up from his spot on the cold concrete.

“Dustin? Henderson?!” Panic sets in as the silence around him become deafening. “S-Steve?”

Slowly, he wobbled to his feet taking in the upside down around him. All the bats were dead and there was none of the thunder or rumbles that had been there before. He groaned as his arms gripped his stomach. He was in an immense amount of pain. It wasn’t like a physical pain but something could almost feel in his soul.

“Eddie…”

“Steve?” The metalhead turned in every direction but didn’t see the man he loved anywhere.

“I miss you so much. I feel so lost without you, baby.”

“Steve!? I’m here! I’m right here!” Hobbling towards his trailer, he began to hear faint music.

“And all I can taste is this moment And all I can breathe is your life And sooner or later, it's over I just don't wanna miss you tonight.”

Something in the atmosphere changed and Eddie felt it immediately.

Danger.

The man’s eyes went black, his mind filling with Steve as he ran almost violently through the wall of his home and jumped through the gate in the roof onto the floor of the dark trailer below.

Your eyes shot open as you gasped awake.

“Well, that’s new.”, Eddie said sarcastically as he scanned you over.

“Hey, honey. You’re okay. Here drink this.”, Steve cooed as he hurried back into the bedroom with a bottle of water. “You’re safe, remember. It was just a nightmare.”

“No…it wasn’t.” Your eyes met with the vampires as he sighed and turned towards Steve. “She just experienced one of my memories.”

“How do you know that?”, he asked.

“I felt it. It was the same way I felt…when I woke up and…”

The other man held up his hand to silence him. “Maybe she drank enough of your blood for that to happen? I mean I’m not surprised if drinking your blood can heal, who knows what else it can do.”

“Or your dick is just that amazing.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he smirked in his boyfriend’s direction. It took them a moment to realize you had started crying as you wrapped your arms around Eddie’s neck.

“I’m so sorry you went through that. Waking up alone like that in that scary place and then feeling what you felt.” After you let him go, he kissed your forehead and Steve climbed in beside you. “There’s a lot I don’t know, huh.”

They both nodded and you did that same before laying down flat in their bed once more.

“While you were asleep I cleaned you but I wasn’t sure if you needed anything else. Do you need anything?”

“No, Steve. Thank you.”

Turning off the light beside the bed, he rolled back over to be met with your awaiting arms as you circled them around his waist and rested your head on his chest. When you absently raised your arm in the air, they both seemed confused until you found Eddie’s wrist and tugged his own limbs around your hip.

“Thank you both for what you did today.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

As your eyes drift shut again, you feel the vampire move as he reaches over to caress Steve’s cheek and in return the man leans into it as he kisses his palm.

“I’m sorry for what I said about how you could leave if you wanted to. Sometimes I forget that pain you went through without me since I was knocked out for most of it. Feeling her dream…my memory…when I woke up, Steve, it was the first thing I felt…your grief. I can understand you not wanting her to feel that.”

“Taking care of you isn’t chore for me. I like looking out for you but I know a lot of that is panic. I work so hard to keep things the same because if they are then I know the outcome. Honestly, she scares me. Like you I like Y/N a lot but it’s been a while since we’ve been vulnerable like this, Eddie. Tonight, we got lucky but what if other bad things happen?”

“Then like tonight, I’ll handle it. You’re not alone anymore, sweetheart. We can do anything together right?” Steve’s exhales before he nods. “One day at a time, baby. Let’s just focus on the positive…like me getting to watch my two beautiful babes go at it.”

Eddie sticks out his tongue making the man chuckle.

“The three of us will have to talk about that part more but IS it ok if I’m her Daddy to?”

“Yeah, yeah of course, honey. As long as you and she are comfortable with it. Baby girl doesn’t know what she’s in for when it comes to you.”

“Well, she’ll find out soon enough.”

##############

Part 1 Here

273 notes · View notes

loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

You’re in Trouble (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: Swearing, threats of violence

Synopsis: As the gang are looking around the boathouse, Y/N joins them on the hunt for Eddie but her angry demeanour makes the others worried of what will happen when they do

Y/N notes: shorter than Eddie

This one was requested by @lily-sinclair-2006 ! I liked the idea of Y/N being pissed that he may have cheated on her rather than the more important thing, that he might of killed someone lol. I’m working on The Metal Head and the Material Girl part 2 and it should be out some time this week so look out for that!

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“What a dump.” Dustin mumbled as the group entered the boat shed. Steve pulled an oar off of the wall and began jabbing at the tarp in the boat. Dustin pulled a face at him.

“What are you doing?” The younger one asked.

“He might be in here.” Steve calmly replied, continuing to jab.

“So take the tarp off!”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off!” The door to the shed burst open, spooking everyone inside. They all turned to see Y/N L/N in the doorway. She gave them an angered confused look.

“Y/N?” Steve questioned, lowering the oar.

“Steve? The fuck are you lot doing here?” The girl looked at each of the group.

“Uh we could ask you the same question?” Steve replied.

“I’m looking for my bitch ass boyfriend that’s what I’m doing.” Y/N explained, walking further into the shed and looking around.

“Oooooooh yeah I totally forgot Eddie had a girlfriend.” Steve said to the group. Dustin gave him a look of disbelief.

“Yeah you couldn’t have remembered that sooner?? It would have been real helpful to know that the person we’re looking for is dating someone!!!”

“Alright alright I’m sorry! She graduated two years ago, haven’t seen her since so she slipped my mind! Uh no offence Y/N.” Steve put a hand up in Y/N’s direction as she continued to look around.

“None taken Harrington, so you guys found anything?”

“Uh n-no not yet.” Dustin replied. “Uh hi Dustin Henderson, Eddie’s friend. Do you know where he might’ve gone if not here?”

“I went to his trailer the morning after it happened, police wouldn’t let me get too close. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, didn’t have clue to where he went either. I checked all over my house just in case but he wasn’t there. I went to our old spot in the woods outside the high school, then our one at Lover’s Lake, nothing. And now I’m here.” Y/N sounded more and more annoyed the more places she listed off.

“And I just wanna make sure…” Dustin began. “That you don’t think Eddie did it?”

“Of course he didn’t.” Y/N replied, finding it stupid he’d even ask. “That boy will cry over roadkill we pass on the way to my house ain’t no way in Hell he killed Chrissy Cunningham.”

“And you think he’ll still be alive?” Dustin asked, wanting the confirmation.

“Either he’s dead or I’m gonna kill him myself.” Y/N answered back.

“Hey.” Max called. “Look over here.” Wrappers from different snacks laid about on a table.

“Maybe he heard us?” Robin suggested. “Got spooked and ran?”

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin said sarcastically.

“I know you think you’re being funny Henderson but considering everyone in the room, apart from Y/N, has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight-“ Suddenly Eddie jumped out and pushed Steve to the wall. A broken beer bottle to his throat. Everyone immediately panicked trying to calm Eddie down.

“You’re focusing on the wrong person Munson.” Eddie turned at the familiar voice, dropping the bottle. He began walking over to her, a relieved smile appearing.

“Babe-“ Y/N slapped him clean across the face. Everyone fell silent.

“You wanna explain why Chrissy Cunningham was in your trailer?”

“W-What?” Eddie managed to say.

“Chrissy. In your trailer. Late at night. No call from you.”

“I- wh- she was-“ Y/N glared up at him. He sighed, exasperated. He didn’t care that she was mad, he had to say it. “You have no idea how happy I am to see your face after the time I’ve had.” Eddie opened his arms to her.

“I’m waiting for an explanation.” Y/N did not hug him. She stood there with her arms folded. Eddie went limp and gathered his thoughts.

“R-Right right, she was buying from me. Wanted something stronger, we had to go back to mine. That’s it. That’s it I swear.” Eddie looked at Y/N, pleading for her to believe him. She could see in his eyes that he was craving any sort of affection from her. She sighed and placed a hand on his cheek.

“You dummy. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, his arms going around her waist. “I was so fucking worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I would’ve contacted you, I would’ve but I-I just couldn’t.”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” The couple pulled away.

“Yeah no kidding babe. You really went for it.” He rubbed his cheek, feeling the hot sting from the slap. “So you really thought I cheated on you?”

“Well what was I supposed to think?” Eddie smiled and wrapped himself around her once again, this time making sure he could still see her face. Y/N rested her hands on his chest.

“Y/N I’m lucky you even acknowledge my existence, let alone are my girlfriend. What kinda delusional asshole would I be if I went off with another girl?”

“The worst.” Y/N teased.

“Yeah. I’d be the worst.” He leaned down, to kiss her. Pushing back on her a little, hungry for her affection. He didn’t realise how much he needed this until it was happening. An awkward cough brought the two back to reality.

Ah right. They weren’t alone.

“Okay glad you two lovebirds made up. Now can we please shift our focus back to the important stuff?” Dustin asked.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry Henderson it’s… it’s been a rough day.”

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