#eddie Munson teasing
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Tease: Eddie Munson blurb
⚠️18+ explicit sexual content. Minors DNI⚠️
“Eddie… Eddie please…” you whisper softly, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest.
“Mmm.. no can do, sweetheart. Only good girls get to cum.”
“I’ll be good. I promise.. please let me cum..” you whine, your clit swollen from his nonstop torture.
You don’t know how long has passed but it feels like hours. Hours of incessant teasing. Teeth imprints and red marks litter your skin like some twisted form of art. Your entire body feels like it's going to explode from the constant edging.
You pull against the restraints hearing the metal handcuffs clink against the bedpost.
“Baby..”
“Shh…” he hums as his thumb meets your throbbing clit once more making your legs clamp shut around his wrist.
Eddie chuckles darkly as his strong hands land on your knees, forcing them apart.
“Fuck!” you squeal as he plants his face in between your legs, lapping furiously at your soaked pussy.
“I- Eddie! It’s too much!” you cry out but he doesn’t stop. His hands keep your legs spread, pressing your knees firmly into the mattress as you struggle to keep your eyes open.
His tongue flicks and swirls wildly, never in one place long enough to get you there. Just enough to keep you aching for more. Desperate moans flee your lips with every movement from his wicked tongue.
He leans up, spitting on your pussy, giving it a rough smack making your body jolt, back arching off the bed.
“Shit!”
“That pussy tastes so good, baby. You’re fucking soaked…” he murmurs, slipping two fingers inside, the chill of his rings sending shivers throughout your entire body.
“P-please…” you whimper, tears prick your eyes from the frustration.
Eddie’s brown eyes lock onto yours as a small smirk appears on his pretty lips.
“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” he taunts.
You nod adamantly as a tear rolls down your cheek.
His fingers curl perfectly, finding your sweet spot with ease.
“Beg.”
“I have been begging!” you sass, your attitude resulting in his fingers immediately being pulled out of you.
“No, no, no. I'm sorry. Eddie.. I'm sorry.” you plead, yearning for his touch.
Eddie ignores you completely, fidgeting with the large ring on his finger mindlessly.
“Please touch me.”
Eddie waits patiently, his dark eyes studying your face curiously as you squirm under him.
“Please. I'm begging you. Please let me cum. Make me feel good. Only you can make me feel good.” you praise, feeling a rush of relief as his fingers glide into you once again.
“I know.” he burns, his fingers reaching deeper, stroking rapidly, the sound of your wetness loud in the night.
“Oh my god… f-fuck… Eddie, please don't stop.. Please don't st-sto—” your urgent cries break off into silence as your jaw drops open, your orgasm hitting you unexpectedly.
Your legs tremble uncontrollably as your eyes roll instantly to the back of your head, your vision becoming nothing but stars as you finally get your sweet release.
“There we go.. Mmm… soak my hand, sweetheart.”
You can feel your cum coat the inside of your thighs, soaking the sheets beneath you as your back arches off the bed.
“You're making such a mess, baby.” Eddie mumbles lustfully as he watches you fall apart beneath his hand.
Your pussy spasms again and again around his ringed fingers, every nerve on your body is on fire as he continues fucking you with his hand, the beautiful sound of your slick coating his hand rings through the room.
“Such a pretty pussy..” “Fuck, I love when you cum for me.”
Praises pour from his lips as he works you through your orgasm.
“Eddiee..” his name comes out hoarse as your body gradually comes down from your high.
“Good Girl, that’s my good girl.”
Masterlist of full oneshots found here 🖤🖤🖤
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie Munson teasing#teasing#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#stranger things#stranger things fanfics#dom eddie munson#dom Eddie
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No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.
And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.
And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."
Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.
Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.
For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.
And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.
And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.
But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.
And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.
But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.
Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.
They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.
Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.
"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."
"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."
Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.
"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."
And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.
This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."
He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.
His next words come out without effort, without intent.
"Don't call me that."
He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.
"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"
Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.
"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"
Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.
His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.
"...You know."
Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.
Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.
Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.
"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."
Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.
"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."
Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.
"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"
Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."
Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.
"Yeah?"
Steve hums again.
"What about... sweetheart?"
Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.
"Yeah."
Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.
"Honey?"
Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."
Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"
Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.
"Especially big boy."
Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.
Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.
"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"
Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.
"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."
Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.
His response is overwhelming.
Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.
And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.
He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.
Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.
"You know which one's my favorite?"
Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"
"Look at me."
Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.
It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.
Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.
The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.
"Baby."
Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.
"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.
"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."
This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.
"Think that can be arranged, baby."
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fanfic#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steddie headcanon#absolutely no idea where this came from#but it's here#first kiss#mutual pining#flirting#steddie first kiss#teasing#steve harrington is down bad#eddie munson is down equally bad#idk how to tag things
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Steve snaps a little polaroid of his ass and stashes it into Eddie’s room when he leaves the town for a couple of days with Robin to look at her college.
He hears from Eddie the same night, cursing over how Wayne almost found it when he was cleaning Eddie’s beer cans and how he’s about to lose his mind and come fuck Steve right now even if it meant he’d have to drive six hours to him.
Steve just smirks into the phone, being proud of himself that his boyfriend is gonna be miserably horny for the next three days.
”I really don’t wanna know.” Robin side eyes him from the other bed and it makes Steve laugh while Eddie still rants to him from the other side of the line.
”Oh you think this is funny, huh? You little shit now you’re asking for it! Maybe when you get back I won’t fuck you, is that what you want?”
That makes Steve snort.
”Pleaaase, like you’d be able to hold yourself back. If I recall you said something about wanting to just live with your dick buried inside my ass forever—”
”Ew! No no no no NO! Stop!” Robin yells and Steve feels a little bad for her so he says his goodbyes in the most sweetest tone and hangs up to a whining Eddie.
”You are the worst.”
#steddie#He’s a TEAAAAAAASE#Steve is a tease#Who knew?#POOR ROBS#GOTTA GO THROUGH ALL OF THIS#LOL#a small something#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#robin buckley#stranger things#st#my writing#text
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once again thinking about how Eddie’s realization that Steve’s actually a good dude probably has to do with how Steve kept making sure he was in the loop (girl with superpowers) and placating his worries without making it seem silly (Dustin’s not cursed, just mental) and never once making Eddie feel dumb for trying to keep up and going blank under stress (not saying ‘you should already know’ when explaining the hive mind) I know we love how Eddie doesn’t make Steve feel dumb about the Ozzy reference, but Steve was also doing that for Eddie too for most of the season
Just thinking, with Eddie having failed grades and clearly struggled in school and not being seen as “traditionally” smart, he’s definitely been treated like he’s stupid before. Both him and Steve know what it’s like to feel dumb and they made such a point not to treat each other that way and it’s so!!!
#they tease each other and steve’s like ‘you got it easy. i just had to grab a bat and start swinging. no questions asked’#i made another post about this but i was thinking about it again because!!#yeah it’s probably part of why eddie was like hey he’s actually a very good dude#steddie#eddie munson#stranger things#steve harrington#steddie headcanons#st meta#mp
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Severely neglected component of modernish rockstar Eddie fics is Robin deciding to become an internet hater for Eddie. Like she finds out Eddie is semi/famous and is like "oh, you know what'll be hilarious?" And makes a twitter account dedicated to dissing him. You cannot convince me she wouldn't. Eddie knows she runs the account (it's not even negative it's just to rag on him. Tweets like "Eddie Munson seems like the kind of guy who would tell his friend he'll get her dr pepper and then get some bullshit knockoff. What the hell is a peppo" and "Eddie Munson has probably gotten so distracted by his SO that he walked into a wall and then was still so distracted said SO thought he was concussed." Or "Jeff is actually the best member of CC Eddie probably walked on cafeteria tables in HS" And of course "everybody says I hate on Eddie too much but they don't know he woke his SOs bff up just to ask if there was any peppo left. Twice.") But he can't do anything about it. It's a bit of a meme, because the account never says anything actually mean about Eddie, or his music. Just. Bizarre hypotheticals. (They are not hypothetical)
People are like "how do you feel about EddieMunsonh8r at twitter dot com"
And he has to grit his teeth and say people can have their own opinions about him, ignoring the fact that Robin was literally sitting beside him poking him when she tweeted earlier that day about him wiggling his fingers and saying he'd like to have a little morsel (in reference to cheezies).
When asked why she does it she just says "to keep him humble. And also it's funny to see if people believe he would do this stuff."
Gareth proposes one of them make an account like that about Steve, semi famous stuntman who's doing some more acting now, and the next day Robin tweets "CC seems like the kid of guys who'd make a fake hater account about Steve and use actually silly billy things he does as content" (Jeff tattled)(Eddie groaned)(Steve and Robin cackled)
#robin Buckley#eddie munson#steve Harrington#steddie#stobin#honestly most steddie fics lack robin absolutely razzing on eddie#eddie being famous? she has apublic forum for teasing him.#tbh to me famous eddie is a vehicle for robin being funny (esp if qpr lavender marriage stobin)#rockstar eddie munson#platonic stobin#finda's rambles#finda writes stuff#not really but kinda#stranger things#actually. robin would do this either way if eddie was famous or not#she just more reach and influence if eddie is famous
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Pt 1 ao3
Steve tells Eddie about the bet
“Dude, you’re not going to believe this.” Steve leans against Eddie’s headboard and tries to exude nonchalance.
“Sup?” Eddie plucks his acoustic guitar trying to work on one of his new songs.
“At work yesterday, Rob and I were talking about random shit and you won’t believe it, but for some reason she thinks you have a small dick.”
“What?” Eddie stops moving his fingers to gawk at Steve.
“I know, man.” Steve puts his hands up with a shrug. “I tried to defend you because we’re friends, and that’s a part of the code. I’m not gonna let someone say that about you. But she was weirdly adamant, even bet me. Which, I mean, that’s crazy.”
“She bet you? Wait,” Eddie furrows his brows. “She bets I have a small dick?”
“Yeah, rough. I bet you don’t, though.” Steve takes a sip of his beer to stop from saying anything further.
“Of course I don’t. What does she think small is? Does she think I have a micro or something?” Eddie puts his guitar down and turns to face Steve completely.
“I don’t know.”
“Why would she say that? Does it look small in my pants?” Eddie looks down at his crotch and Steve tries to keep his eyes pointed upwards.
“Y’know I haven’t really looked.”
“Shit,” Eddie stands up and shakes his jeans out. “Does it look small?” He keeps his head down trying to gauge based off the bulge.
“Um, it’s kinda hard to see.”
“What?” Eddie angles his hips trying to let the overhead light shadow over his jeans. “Wait, it’s just cause they’re black jeans. Look.” He says before quickly unbuckling his pants and then shoving them down to his thighs exposing the blue plaid boxers underneath. “See?”
Steve swallows hard when he notices Eddie thrusts his hips forward a little to accentuate the tenting of fabric.
“Mhmm, yep,” Steve says tightly.
“What was the bet?” Eddie leaves his jeans around his thighs and crosses his arms.
“Oh, uh,” Steve shakes his head and averts his eyes. “I’d have to buy her like an entire feast of breakfast foods. Basically enough food to feed a village.”
“Would you get any?”
“Probably not,” Steve nods solemnly. “She’s kinda selfish like that.”
She’s not, at all, and Eddie would know that if he was thinking with anything other than the size of his dick. But Steve’s taking the chance.
“Well y’know what? Screw her. I don’t have a small dick.” He leans forward and grabs his crotch for emphasis.
“Yeah, screw her. I bet you don’t.”
“Yeah, fuck that!” Eddie hooks his thumbs into his waistband and pulls his boxers down exposing his semi hard dick to Steve’s hungry eyes. “See?” Eddie takes his dick comfortably into his hand and absentmindedly starts tugging on it. “That’s not small.”
“N-no, nope, not at all.” Steve can’t stop himself from biting his bottom lip.
“I bet you have a big dick too, Harrington. Buckley doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s crotch while his hand begins stroking himself slowly.
“It’s not as big as yours, but yeah it’s above average. She’s so wrong. I wouldn’t even know what to do with that thing.” Oh yes he would.
“You wanna touch it?” Eddie lets his now fully erect dick go, and it bobs in the air tauntingly.
“Sure?” Steve shifts on the bed to his knees, sets his beer on the nightstand, and crawls over to the edge in front of Eddie.
“She’s gonna owe you so much fucking food, man.” Eddie grins and Steve sorta forgot what they were talking about. “Go ahead, feel the weight.”
Steve reaches for it, trying to act like this isn’t life changing for him, and when his fingers brush against the soft warm skin of Eddie’s shaft the man suddenly shudders under the touch. A soft huff escapes Eddie’s lips when Steve looks up, mouth open, fingers wrapping around Eddie’s dick. Steve sees something flicker behind Eddie’s eyes that looks a lot like lust.
“Oh fuck,” Eddie sighs before leaning forward, grabbing Steve’s face, and kissing him hard.
Steve melts into the kiss finding it’s everything he imagined.
“You’re gonna fucking tell Buckley, you know for a firsthand fact my dick isn’t small.” Eddie growls then pushes Steve back onto the mattress before crawling over his body and kissing him senseless.
“Yeah I am,” Steve smiles and shifts his hips to get his legs comfortably wrapped around Eddie, pulling him in closer.
Eddie takes a pull off his cigarette before passing it to Steve.
“I still don’t understand why she thinks I have a small dick.”
Steve puts the filter to his lips and ducks away to hide a smile. “No idea.”
“How did that even come up?” Eddie stretches out next to Steve, still naked, with the sheet only covering his lower half.
“We were just talking,” Steve shrugs before passing the cigarette back.
He knows that’s probably not a good enough excuse, so when Eddie puts the cigarette to his mouth Steve leans over and starts kissing along Eddie’s pecs to distract him. Eddie hums and stretches more, dropping his fingers into Steve’s hair and scratching gently.
“But, what were you talking about?”
Steve stops his kissing to lean up on his elbow and look Eddie in the eye. “Ok, don’t get mad, buuuut…” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “She only bet because I made her.”
“What?”
“I kinda wanted to see your dick, and I figured you’d show it to me if I told you Robin thought it was small.” Eddie’s mouth falls open. “But! I did not expect this turn of events. I’m not complaining,” he rushes out hoping to reassure Eddie. “Actually, I’m really happy about this.”
“Why didn’t you just ask?” Eddie says with a grin.
“What, oh hey, Eddie. Can I see your dick? I kinda can’t stop thinking about it and want to know how accurately close my imagination is. Like that?”
“Yeah, that woulda worked.”
“Jesus,” Steve sighs then collapses onto his back next to Eddie with a smile.
He’s going to be so sore tomorrow but it’s totally worth it.
Robin definitely owes him waffles.
#Eddie joins them at breakfast to Robin’s surprise#she’s grateful when he never brings it up#Steve made him promise not to tease her or she’d kill Steve#pt 2#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddiecameraroll posts#my writing#steddie ficlet
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A few years after Vecna, Steve gets invited back to the high school to play in a charity basketball match with (and against) other Hawkins basketball alumni. It's for charity, and he misses the rush of playing (and he kinda wants to see if he's still any good), so he agrees.
He asks Eddie if he'll be there, but although Eddie's somewhat enthusiastic to Steve's face, he whines about it for days to Wayne. He fucking hates sports, why did he have to fall for a fucking jock, of all things. UUUGH! Wayne puts up with it for a while before realising that Eddie's not going to talk himself around, and gives him a blunt, verbal kick in the ass.
"You think your boy enjoys watching your dungeon and dragons shtick, son?" He asks, sipping at his beer.
Eddie's offended, immediately.
"He's never missed a session, course he loves it." he says. "And i know he pays attention because we talk about it afterwards and he's always..."
"And how's that make you feel?" Wayne interrupts.
"Fucking amazing." Eddie grumbles, knowing what's coming, and hating it.
"...and how do you talk about his hobbies?"
Eddie sighs and covers his face. Wayne carries on, knowing he's made his point but hammering it home nonetheless.
"Your boy loves his sports, he's always here just in time to watch the games with me nowadays. And don't think I haven't noticed how bored you are when it's on. I reckon he's noticed too."
Eddie's silent, starting at the ceiling with a dramatic, melancholy pout.
"Ah shit." He sighs. "I'm a bad boyfriend, aren't I?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. But learn from it if you want to be better." Wayne shrugs. "He makes you happy by indulging in your hobbies, maybe you should think about doing the same. Guarantee it'll put a smile on your boy's face, if nothing else."
So next time Steve brings it up, (tentatively, like he knows Eddie will complain) Eddie is much more genuinely enthusiastic. Steve's surprised for a split second (and doesn't that hurt), before he's beaming and looking absolutely delighted. And shit, yeah ok. It does make Eddie feel good to see Steve happy. Course it does.
The game rolls around, and hell yeah, it's boring to watch. Eddie's been reading up on the rules, so he's not entirely confused, but it just seems so pointless. Steve's good though. From what he's seen (and he's totally not biased, thanks) Steve's running rings around the other team, and Eddie's so fucking proud! It helps that Steve's in those shorts, showing off damn near the full length of his legs.
More importantly, he looks so fucking happy while he's playing. He keeps shooting Eddie these big, beaming smiles when they've scored a hoop, or point, or whatever they're called, and Eddie finds himself melting where he sits, face aching from smiling so much in return.
By the end of the game Eddie's fully invested. Sure, he barely understands what's going on, but even he knows enough that getting the ball in the hoop is a good thing, and Steve does it loads. Their team wins, and there's a huge group hug, pats on the back and other sporty, manly things before they all part ways and start making their way out to the parking lot.
Eddie stays put. He knows Steve will come right to him, and he does. They walk back to Steve's car together, and Steve's on some sort of winner's high; all smiles and cocky strutting. It's kinda hot. Screw that, it's totally hot, and suddenly Eddie's glad that Wayne's working tonight and they've got the place to themselves.
"Surprised you lasted the whole game, Eds." Steve says, teasingly, before he just downs a water bottle. "Thought you'd have died of boredom halfway though."
"Pssh." Eddie waves him off, trying not to feel embarrassed. "You know, Stevie, you're pretty amazing at that." He waves his hand vaguely back towards the court. "That shot you made from almost the centre? Chills, baby, full on chills."
Steve doesn't even bother checking to see if anyone's watching. He slams Eddie against the side of his car and kisses him, cradling Eddie's face with his hands, as though he'd die if he didn't have full body contact.
And Eddie knows the feeling. Like when Steve had recounted a particularly awesome moment from his campaign, and all Eddie had wanted to do was drag him right to the bedroom.
Steve pulls away.
"Get in." He said, opening the car door for Eddie like the gentleman he is.
And fuck, if this is the reaction he gets for paying attention, then he's definitely doing it more. If he's honest with himself, he should have been doing it from day one, but yeah sometimes he's a bit dense and needs a push in the right direction.
So basketball's boring as shit usually, but when Steve's playing? Hell yeah. He'll even put up with listening about it (and even football), if it puts that smile on Stevie's face. That's the price for dating a jock, he guesses, but it's miniscule, and it's fucking worth it.
#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington#Eddie making the effort to learn Steve's hobbies is so important to me#There's tons of the other way around...but Steve deserves to be able to talk about and enjoy his own stuff too#although Eddie has his pride...his boyfriend's happiness is WAY more important#(He still grizzles when Steve and Wayne watch 'the game' together though...he's a little shit...but it's more teasing than complaining)#Wayne hates D&D but he'll take that to his grave. He and Steve have talked about it...it's Eddie's enthusiasm that keeps them interested#Steve enjoys it...but mainly the atmosphere that comes from the party all enjoying themselves...he'll never play it himself#just like Eddie will never play basketball...but he enjoys watching Steve play
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based on this post of mine bc i had thoughts // tw surgery mention, anaesthesia, hospital environment (not detailed its just there)
“And who are you?”
Steve pauses by the door, setting his jacket on the back of the chair next to Wayne. He looks over at Eddie, laying in his bed, covered in a blanket, his hair a messy halo around his head. His eyes are shining brightly, staring intently at Steve.
“He’s very high,” Wayne says to Steve, smiling softly.
“Yeah, I got that,” Steve says, watching Eddie roll slightly, groaning loudly. “Surgery went well?”
“Went fine,” Wayne says lightly, and Steve can see the relief in him as he leans back, eyes watching Eddie like he’s scared to look away.
“Eds?” Steve says, moving closer to the bed. “How was surgery?”
“Was fu-u-un…”
“Yeah? You had fun?”
Eddie hums affirmatively, and Steve crouches next to the bed, looking at him. There’s a bandage on his cheek, and the sight of it makes Steve’s chest ache, but Eddie’s eyes are shining brightly, glazed over as he blinks at Steve.
“Whoa,” he breathes dramatically, and Steve suppresses a smile.
“What?”
Eddie lifts a hand, and it lands heavily on the side of Steve’s face, making him recoil slightly even as he laughs. Eddie’s fingers press into his skin, kneading his cheek.
“You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Steve’s eyebrows fly up, and his face burns as he hears Wayne laugh quietly behind him.
“Am I?”
Eddie hums again, smiling brightly, deliriously, wriggling as he shakes Steve’s face.
“Pretty boy,” he mumbles. “Pretty, pretty, pretty boy.” He releases his cheek to boop his nose a little too hard. “Who are you?”
“I’m Steve.”
“Ste-e-e-eve…” Eddie blinks at him, poking his face again. “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie.”
“Hi, Eddie,” Steve says softly.
“Princess Stevie,” Eddie slurs happily.
“Princess?”
“Mm. Princess. Pretty princess.”
Wayne laughs quietly behind Steve, and Steve turns to glare at him over his shoulder. He’s rubbing his forehead and smiling amusedly, and Steve starts to open his mouth to speak, but Eddie grabs at his face again, pulling him to face him.
Eddie’s eyes are almost closed, like his eyelids are heavy, and his fingers are petting at Steve’s cheek and jaw, rubbing his stubble. (He hasn’t shaved. He’s been too stressed. He was planning on shaving tonight after getting firm confirmation that Eddie is okay, but if Eddie likes it…)
Eddie lets go of his cheek and boops his nose a little to hard. And then he does it again, and again, humming a song that Steve doesn’t recognize.
“Do you like boys?” Eddie asks abruptly, his fingertip lingering on the tip of Steve’s nose. Wayne barks out a laugh behind Steve, and Steve’s face burns, and for some reason, even though Eddie isn’t going to remember this and Wayne is right there, Steve says, “Yes, I do.”
Eddie’s face lights up, and he tries to sit up, but Steve gently keeps him down, murmuring a soft, “Stay here, Eddie.”
“You do?” Eddie asks hopefully, flopping back down and looking up at Steve, who suppresses a smile, nodding.
“Yeah.”
Eddie’s eyes widen and he turns his face into his pillow, reaching up to pull his hair across his face shyly, shifting and fidgeting and wiggling, and Steve gazes fondly, contently. He hasn’t felt this calm in a good long while.
“Can I have a kiss?” Eddie asks shyly, and Steve raises his eyebrows. “Please.”
“You’re high, Eddie.”
“I’ve been higher,” Eddie says, his voice slurring, mumbly. Steve just looks at him for a moment, watching his eyes shine. “Please? I’ll be good.”
Steve’s stomach flutters, and he exhales, hesitating before he turns to look at Wayne, who’s still watching, smiling absently with his face resting on his hand. Steve raises his eyebrows, shrugging weakly, asking silently what to do as Eddie’s hand touches his cheek again.
Wayne shrugs, his smile growing, and then he points to his forehead with another shrug, and Steve sighs.
He turns back to face Eddie, who’s gazing at him blearily, his eyes glazed over.
“I won’t kiss your mouth,” Steve starts, cracking a smile when Eddie’s lips pout, his lower lip poking out, shining. “But I’ll kiss your forehead if you want.”
Eddie beams.
“Yes, please.”
Steve smiles, licks his lips, shifting on the ground as Eddie smiles up at him.
“Don’t move,” he says firmly, and Eddie nods, his body tightening and his eyes closing. He’s still smiling.
Steve takes a moment to gaze at him. At the lines in his skin from his smile, at his dark eyelashes and chapped lips. (Which Steve will kiss when he’ll be able to remember it.)
He brushes Eddie’s bangs back carefully, and Eddie inhales, his smile growing even more somehow, and then he leans close, pressing his lips to his forehead softly, leaving a lingering kiss on his skin.
Eddie sighs, still lying stiffly, unmoving, being good like he said he would, and when Steve pulls away to look at him, his cheeks are flushed pink. A second passes before Eddie's eyes flutter open, and then he's smiling so brightly his eyes are squeezing shut, and he rolls away a little bit, letting out an excited squeal that makes Steve burst into laughter.
"Wayne," Eddie calls, rolling over and looking across the room at Wayne, who's laughing even harder than Steve, covering his face with a hand. "A pretty boy kissed me, d'ya see?"
"I saw, Eds, 'm happy for you."
Eddie giggles deliriously and rolls over again, wiggling, and Steve presses his face to the side of his bed, his face hot, because even though it was Wayne's fucking idea, he forgot Wayne was watching him press the softest kiss humanly possible to Eddie's forehead, was probably watching his gaze at him before it. But Wayne is laughing, amused, and probably relieved to be hearing Eddie giggle and squeal happily after worrying for so long.
"Alright," Steve says after taking a moment to collect himself, reaching up and pulling at Eddie's shoulder. "You're gonna pull your stitches, honey, lay still."
"Honey," Eddie repeats, his eyes shining brightly, the bandage on his cheek wrinkling as his cheeks squish up under his smile. "Honey, honey, honey, honey..."
Steve's face burns again.
"You're so sweet, Stevie," Eddie says lightly, his voice mumbly. "Sweet boy. Sweetheart. Cotton candy boy."
"Cotton candy boy," Steve repeats under his breath, and Eddie hums affirmatively.
"Cotton candy. Sweet. Hubba Bubba. Bubblegum baby."
"He's a poet," Wayne quips behind Steve, and Steve turns to glare at him, but he can't fully suppress the smile that's making his face sore. Eddie is still mumbling to himself, now reaching up to rub Steve's face again.
"Sweet like iced tea. Like a lollipop." He giggles to himself, pressing his fingers into Steve's cheek again. "Wanna lick you."
A laugh bursts out of Wayne, and Steve's face floods with heat.
"Oh my god."
Eddie giggles.
He asks to hold Steve's hand after rambling a little while longer, after comparing Steve to cake frosting and strawberries and honeysuckle blossoms, and Steve lets him take it, watches their fingers lace and twist together, and Wayne finally brings a chair over to him with Eddie doesn't want to let go. Wayne kisses Eddie's head when he says goodnight, and then he kisses the top of Steve's. It makes Steve's eyes burn and fill with tears that he refuses to let fall until after the door's shut behind Wayne.
Eddie asks if he's okay, eyes filled with concern, and his fingers tighten on Steve's. Steve wipes his face and smiles, telling him he's fine. No one's kissed me like that in a long while. Eddie sighs and relaxes, still gazing at him. Tells him Wayne does it all the time, and he'd probably do it to Steve if he wants him to.
"I can kiss you like that if you want," he offers kindly, sleepily. Steve raises his hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles.
"Tomorrow."
"Okay."
(Eddie doesn't remember anything when he wakes up the next day, but when he opens his eyes to find Steve resting his head next to him on his bed and Steve's fingers twisted around his, he certainly doesn't complain.)
#one of my fav trios#wayne being a dad <3#wayne teases them both the next day and steve will not stop blushing#eddies just like 'i said what i said'#he starts calling steve 'sweetheart' and then 'sweets' after this#steve and wayne click immediately they only met once before this#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fanfic#steddie blurb#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson ficlet#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington ficlet#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#tw surgery#why do my wips keep ending up in hospitals im losing my mind#but also this was v fun to write i enjoyed it
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Hold me close as you drift off to sleep
Eddie Munson x reader
Eddie spends the night for the first time
Contents: no use of gendered pet names,, no physical descriptions of reader but clothes are described, mentions of nervousness, mentions of sharing a toothbrush which leads to mentions of spit kink, no actual smut but allusions to it,
MDNI 18+ only
You slowly looked over your pajama choice in the mirror. A pair of warm plaid pants and a t-shirt from years ago that was faded and soft in the most comfortable way. You weren't sure why you were so nervous about this, you and Eddie had seen each other in many different clothes and lack thereof.
But there was something different about spending the first night together. The first time sleeping together, and by sleeping you actually mean it in the sense of the word. Snoozing. Dreaming. Resting. Snoring-
Oh God what if you snored? You bit your lip as the anxiety started to rise. You didn't think you snored, but what if you did? What if you walked in your sleep? Or worse, what if you talked and shared all your secrets (the most important being you loved Eddie, but you didn't think it was that big of a secret).
The door to your bedroom creaked open, causing your eyes to dart over. Eddie walks in, dumping his clothes on the floor. The white tank top clings to his lean torso, the ill fitting red plaid pants rolled up at the hems. Eddie smiles at you slightly before sighing loudly. You stomach turns until Eddie gestures to his pants," Well, one of us is gonna have to change."
A laugh escapes you just as your worries do. This is Eddie. Your Eddie. There is no need to be nervous.
You walk over to the bed and crawl in," Should have packed a bag just in case. You saw the forecast was calling for snow." Eddie scoffs slightly but crawls into bed," You're my weather.. guide? the weather diviner...the weather-" "meteorologist" "Yeah that! You're that. Wayne watches the news, not me. They just want you to see one side." Eddie pulls the blankets up to his chin and bats his lashes at you," You're my meteorologist and you didn't tell me. Almost like you wanted this to happen."
You smile as you roll your eyes," Yes Edward, I wanted you all to myself and chose to not tell you so that way you had to borrow clothes from whatever was left here by Steve and Robin." "Oh, I'm not borrowing, these are mine now. Finders keepers." Eddie winks at you.
Eddie reaches over and turns off the lamp, letting the room go dark. You blink your eyes a few times, adjusting to the lack of light. You can feel the dip in the bed where Eddie is laying next to you. Your hands almost touching. Hear his breathing cut through the deafening silence.
You look over at Eddie and find him already staring at you. "Sorry if I snore," you mumble looking into his eyes. Eddie brings up a finger and traces your cheekbone," Don't worry about it. Wayne snores, won't bother me if you sound like a chainsaw." You huff and go to turn away but Eddie holds your face towards him.
"Goodnight." Eddie whispers as he leans in and kisses you lightly. Its soft, sweet, and almost shy. You grin into the kiss. Eddie sighs and pulls back a fraction, lips barely touching. You can feel his breath against your face. You can smell peppermint- wait.
"You brush your teeth?" You ask. Eddie hums an affirmative, " Yup. Got my molars and everything. Rinsed your brush really wel-" "My brush?" Eddie looks a bit sheepish as you gape at him," My brush Edward? That's-! What? Eddie!"
Eddie blushes," We've swapped spit when kissing-" "That's different!" "Is it?". You roll away as Eddie makes grabbing hands and tries to keep you facing him. You evade his grasp and stare at the wall, feeling Eddie wrap his arms around your waist,"I'm sorry?"
You can't help but smile as Eddie kisses up and down your neck, apologizing the whole time. You grab his hand resting on your hip and interlock your fingers," It's okay i just don't want to think about it. I guess you have spit in my mouth-" "No I haven't! Wait, is that...Is that on the table cau-" "Don't press your luck tonight Eddie you know what I meant," you warn. "Shutting up" Eddie makes a motion of zipping his mouth shut.
You start to laugh and pretty soon Eddie is too. If you had had any nerves left, they would be gone now. You sigh, relaxing into the bed. The weight of Eddie's arm laid across you, holding you in place, had you feeling secure.
"Night Eddie. Don't let the bed bugs bite," you grin as you close your eyes. They snap back open a minute later as you feel the sting of Eddie's teeth lightly clamp onto your shoulder," Hey!" "No bed bugs here, just me. Your loooovveee bug." Eddie grins as you swat at him," Go to sleep!"
Eddie goes to roll over but you grasp his forearm, pulling his arm back over you. He smiles as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. He slides one leg and slots it between yours. Your limbs entangled in a more innocent way then normal. You smile softly as you lay there, trying to go to sleep.
You can hear Eddie's breathing even out as he falls asleep behind you. Knowing he feels safe and comfortable enough to do so makes you feel warm inside. You grin as you start to feel the edges of sleep start to overtake you.
Your eyes flutter open as the sun shines through the window. You look over at Eddie and try to stifle a laugh. His face pressed into the pillow with his hair a wild, tangled mess around him. The pillow slightly discolored from where he has drooled onto it. You can't hold it in when you realize the tank top he's wearing has shifted to reveal his entire pec to you.
Eddie slowly wakes up to your laughter, glaring at you slightly for being woken up. The grumpy look fades from his face as he realizes it's you that woke him up. Eddie sits up quickly, brushing a hand through his hair and only getting it caught once or twice. He wipes at the drool on his chin and gives you a big grin," What are you laughing at?"
You nod at his chest and he looks down. Eddie gasps dramatically," My virtue!" He fixed his top as he chuckles. You're sad to see his chest get covered. "Good morning," you say, hand reaching out to lightly graze his.
Eddie grabs your hand with his, thumb stroking the back of your hand," Good morning my dying fish" You wrinkle your brow at him," your what?" "My dying fish, you flopped around so much like a-" You cut Eddie off by hitting him with your pillow. His mouth drops open before he grabs his and hits you back.
Giggles and the sound of pillows hitting each other fill the air before Eddie tosses the pillow aside and tackles you to the bed. He kisses you before hovering over you slightly," Good morning." You grin back, tucking a stray curl behind his ear," Good morning.
Eddie grins down at you and you smile back. The warmth in his eyes causes your stomach to flutter and heart to beat faster. You don't know what he is thinking but can see the love written plainly on his face. You know that while this was only the first time he slept over, it definitely wouldn't be the last.
Eddie kisses the tip of your nose before jumping up," I'm gonna brush my teeth." He starts to giggle slightly making your eyes widen. "Eddie you better not use my brush!" You holler after him, hearing him cackle as he rushes down the hall," Edward!"
#I couldn't figure out how to end it but Eddie is a lil gremlin and would totally tease you#Sometimes vulnerability can be more intimate then the deed yall know what I mean?#Anyways I wish I had Eddie in bed next to me rn...sigh#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#eddie munson x y/n#Eddie Munson/you#Eddie Munson/reader#Jade is Talking#Yeah I couldn't think of a title so...here ya go
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Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/
I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III]
Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.
“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.
He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.
“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”
Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.
“Yeah?”
The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.
“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.
Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.
“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.
Eddie gawked at him.
“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”
“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”
“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.
“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.
Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.
“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”
Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.
“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”
He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.
“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”
Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.
“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”
Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.
The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.
“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.
A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.
“How long he has been living here?”
Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.
“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”
“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.
“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”
Eddie hummed, cocking his head.
“Your mom is very smart.”
Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.
“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”
Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.
“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”
“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.
This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.
“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”
Eddie raised his hands again.
“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”
That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.
Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.
Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.
*
“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break.
“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.
“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”
“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.
“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”
The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.
“I am just saying-”
“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.
“No, I’m just-”
“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.
‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”
“Lure in.”
“Lull into a fake sense of security.”
“Cast charm person.”
“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”
“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.
*
Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.
“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.
Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.
“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”
There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.
“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”
“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently.
The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.
“You guys finishing up?”
“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”
Steve frowned.
“That’s what I said.”
“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.
To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.
*
“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.
“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.
“I did not”
“You totally did.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.
“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”
He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.
“Spare us the imagery, please.”
Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.
“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”
And he was gone.
Gareth sighed.
“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head.
“Yeah.”
*
Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.
Some very, very humiliating calls.
Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.
He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-
“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.”
Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?
“Hello?”
“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”
“... Eddie? Is that you?”
Busted.
“What gave me away?”
“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice.
“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.
“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”
Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.
“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”
“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.
“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”
Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.
After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.
“What's up?”
The man braced himself for what he was about to request.
“I need your help with an assignment.”
*
The door opened before he could even knock. Again.
“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”
“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.
“The likes of- Excuse me?!”
Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.
“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.
“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting.
“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.
“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.
“Normies.”
“Pop listeners.”
“Mom friends.”
“Conformists.”
“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.
Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.
“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.
“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.
“He is!”
Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.
“I believe we have some physics to cover?”
Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.
[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]
#steddie#pre steddie i guess#steve is a henderson#older brother steve#i like the simping for older brother idea but im running dry#if u have ideas for this trope feel free to drop them i might write more#the general idea is eddie finds steve attractive but is lowkey mean and teasing to him because he cant control his jockphobia#also uses it as a defense mechanism against rejection#steve in this is okay with his bisexuality#he thinks theres something there while eddie is in denial#adoption background: authorities got involved after they couldnt get a hold of harringtons after starcourt fire#with murrays help they lost custody and claudia swooped in#i know hes old but its more about legal stuff like changing his name and his parents losing any power over him#ao3 is down so heres a treat#ff#mine#st#steve harrington#steddie fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things 4#eddie munson#the hendersons#The Hendersons
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For @strangersteddierthings 💜
~
“Dude, are you and Harrington dating?”
Eddie jolts and looks up at Jeff, his best friend looking at him up and down, causing him to look at himself. There’s nothing different he’s wearing, it’s his usual ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt his jacket was thrown on a random chair earlier.
He looks back up at Jeff, “why exactly are you asking?”
Jeff shrugs, “You guys just seem really close lately”
That doesn’t say much, at least not enough for him to figure out what dots Jeff decided to connect.
Even if he does want to be dating Steve.
“We’re close, yeah. But, uh, we aren’t dating. At least, not right now”
That makes Jeff raise his eyebrow and his grin to appear, “oh not right now, Eddie?”
All he can do is blush and nod, putting his guitar down to mess with his rings instead, “yeah, uh, I do want to be dating him but I’m not sure if he feels the same”
His friend huffs out a laugh and Eddie can tell he’s shaking his head even without looking at him.
“Ed, listen to me, that guy isn’t as touchy with anyone else but you”
That brings out a laugh, “then you haven’t seen him with Robin. Trust me, he doesn’t mean anything”
Jeff shrugs, “I’m telling you, Steve Harrington is not a touchy person. Not like you at least. Should ask him and maybe something will happen.”
He doesn’t say anything back, his mind racing a bit. Instead, he grabs his things and makes a move to leave only to be stopped again.
Jeff’s smile wide with mischief, “I call best man at the wedding if this is what gets you guys together”
It startles a laugh out of him and calms his nerves, “yeah, deal man.”
The moon is casting a glow across the trailer park and the wind is blowing but he’s warm and it’s partly due to his blush blooming.
The other reason is Steve leaning against him holding him close.
It brings back Jeff’s words from the day before, how he assumed they’re together.
“Hey, Stevie, are you this touchy with anyone else?” He forces himself to keep looking straight ahead, too afraid of whatever is on Steve’s face.
It’s quiet and he feels Steve tense up.
“….. no. Not really” Steve admits, he makes a move to move his arm but Eddie’s faster and grabs it still, “Eds, if- uh, if it’s too much-“
He shakes head, taking a deep breathe before shifting to actually look at Steve. There’s a nervous look all over his face and he’s not looking at him, his eyes jumping around but never landing on him.
“Steve, honey, look at me please”
Immediately Steve’s eyes snap to his and Eddie can’t believe he didn’t see it before.
His heart is beating faster, his blush is near permanent now.
Instead of saying anything yet, he slowly moves to sit directly in Steve’s lap. He has a front row view of the blush come up his face as he settles, Steve moves his arms and settles them around his waist pulling even closer and hiding his face in Eddie’s shoulder.
“You, I’m only touchy like this with you” Steve mumbles and it brings a smile to his face.
“Yeah?” He wraps his arms around Steve’s back, “I’m special?”
“So special”
He can feel Steve’s heartbeat against his chest and it makes his go faster, makes him warmer at the simple fact. “You’re special too, Stevie”
Steve mumbles something against him and he laughs, “I can’t hear you, lovely.”
“I said, I think I love you.” It’s a whisper and Eddie can’t tell if his heart has stopped or is beating so fast he just can’t feel it, “Eddie, darling, I do love you and I just didn’t know how to say it to you”
He shifts to move Steve’s head to look at him, his cheeks are a gorgeous red and his eyes are hopeful. It makes Eddie smile before leaning his forehead against Steve’s, it makes him go cross eyed but it doesn’t matter.
“I’ve been afraid to ruin our friendship, so I didn’t say anything to you” He whispers, “I love you too, baby”
There’s laughter, tears and sweet kisses. Wrapped around each other under the night sky.
Years Later
“Today was beautiful, which, good job to Robin for planning this, if the boys would’ve planned it I don’t even think we’d have fresh flowers”
The crowd laughed and Jeff smiled as he watched twin middle fingers pop up from the couple, laughing he shakes his head, “You both know I’m right, like how I was the one to help you guys get together”
Eddie groaned and Jeff quickly shifted closer to Robin, “As the promised best man, I get to gloat all I want, Mr. He Doesn’t Feel The Same.” He poked his tongue out at him and watched as Steve let out a loud laugh along with everyone else.
After the laughter died down, “I’m ecstatic for you both, truly. You’re lucky to have each other forever and I can’t wait to see the life you build together. To Eddie and Steve!”
Everyone cheers, raising their glasses and echoing ‘To Eddie and Steve’.
Jeff raises his own glass to his lips and glances around before looking back at the newly weds. Steve has his arm around Eddie, their foreheads touching and Jeff catches their sweet words.
“I love you, darling”
“Beloved, I love you so much”
~
This got a little longer than I meant to. Which is normal at this point haha. Anyway! Discord got angsty and Jess got caught in the crossfire, told her I’d make it up to her and this is it!! So I hope you enjoyed this sappy fic!
Inspired by this writing prompt: “Are you this touchy with your other friends?” “…No.”
Permanent tag list: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz (if you wanted to be added, let me know!)
#steddie#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#stranger things fic#nburkhardt writes#using all the terms of endearment#such a sappy couple#jeff doesn’t let Eddie forget that he gets the boy because of him#Robin also teases Steve endlessly for all the sappiness#don’t ask me when this takes place#because I didn’t think about it
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Steve who went to camp know-where as a kid.
Steve who has seen every episode of Star Trek enough times to quote them.
Steve who had his big stereotypical ~makeover~ his first year of middle school.
Steve who internalized all the “advice” so hard that he’d lie about it while being tortured.
Eddie Munson who can smell nerd on him but can’t pinpoint /How/.
#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#steddie#having been the dumbest kid at math camp it’s actually kinda fun#I got teased for only knowing Pi to 3.14159
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My favorite Steve headcannon is him liking all kinds of music.
He doesn’t really care what it is— and it’s not that weird “music is music” mindset. He just likes all music. Metal, Punk, Pop, Rock, Country, shit even nursery rhymes are fine.
He’ll be listening to Christmas music in July without realizing just cause he likes the song.
This is my favorite headcannon for modern AUs cause it’s more like— idk “acceptable” to like more than one kind of music cause people are less close-minded than in the 80s.
But when applying it to a cannon-divergent AU that’s still in the same timeline, i like to make it come with a bit of hurt/comfort.
Especially steddie hurt/comfort.
Where Eddie’s Munson Doctrine gets in the way in more ways than one and where he thinks he’s teasing Steve in playful banter about his music choices he’s actually making Steve kind of hate himself.
And obviously it’s a miscommunication on both ends (Steve doesn’t know how to tell people “no” and “stop” half the time and lord forbid he opens up about his /feelings/). But neither really know that until Steve’s pulling away and Eddie’s angry that he’s pulling away and they hash it out or smth.
Idk where I was going with this lol
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie idea#hurt/comfort#but it’s only an idea#steve likes music#and eddie likes teasing him#but he goes a little far#steddie#steve x eddie#eddie x steve
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summer of '95 [29/x] - the band (+steve) gets up to a lot of crazy shit in between shows, and most of it manifests into random inside jokes that their instagram audience is dying to know more about
#i just love it when the cc boys actually get along with steve#like yeah maybe they'll always tease him a little bit#but that's what brothers do#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#stranger things#social media#social media au#stranger things au#instagram au#steddie instagram au#summer of 95#summer of '95#stranger things edit#stranger things fandom#my steddie posts#steddie headcanon#corroded coffin#rock band au#steddie on tour#steddie au#steddie fandom#steddie edit#boyfriends#cc on tour#steddie hc
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Jemma
I’m not super happy with the ending but I would die for Jemma.
When the bell rings, Robin wearily sighs, stands, and affixes her hat on her head. “I hate you,” she mutters to Steve on her way out the door. “You and your stupid fair plan.”
Steve chuckles, knowing she doesn’t actually hate him or his plan; she just hates when it’s her turn to serve someone.
It’s a fairly straightforward procedure, which means Steve is surprised—and a little concerned—when through the door, he can hear Robin floundering her words. “Oh, no- don’t cry, please, it’s- it’s okay, it’ll be okay, um- Steve? A little help here?”
He forgets the hat, walks out of the break room in three long strides. “What’s wrong?”
He blinks when he sees a little girl standing in front of them, big blue eyes watering. “Oh,” he murmurs. “Hi, there. Where’s your mommy?”
Her lip quivers even more. “Calaf’wnya.”
Steve’s brows hit his hairline. “Okay, uh, where’s your daddy?”
That, apparently, was the wrong question to ask. She bursts into tears. “I dunno!” She sobs and hiccups, and Steve and Robin turn wide eyes onto each other.
“I do not know how to handle kids, Steven,” Robin hisses at him, looking about four seconds from her own breakdown.
Steve doesn’t think he’s fantastic with kids, but he’s at least better than Robin, so he nods. “Can you handle the store while I help her find her dad?”
Robin nods. “Please.”
He nods to her, then moves to crouch in front of the little girl. “Oh, hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll help you find your daddy, okay?”
Her eyes seem even bigger and bluer with the tears. “Pwomise?”
“I promise,” he nods. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Jemma.” She crosses a black curl in front of her face, like she’s embarrassed.
“That’s a beautiful name, Jemma. I’m Steve. Can I guess how old you are?” He grins at her excited nod. “Okay. Hmm�� are you… three?” She shakes her head and holds four fingers up. “You’re four? Oh, wow. You’re so big! Can you guess how old I am?”
She looks at him with big eyes and asks wonderingly, “Two hundwed?”
He ignores Robin’s snort as he picks Jemma up. “Not quite,” he answers. “I’m twenty-six.”
Her eyes get even bigger. “That’s so many,” she says wonderingly. “Do you know evewything?”
Steve stifles a laugh. “Not quite everything, but I do know a lot. But I bet you know a lot, too. D’you know your daddy’s name?” She shakes her head. “That’s okay. Do you know what your mommy calls your daddy?”
Her face brightens. “Asshole!”
Robin collapses in giggles onto the countertop. Steve fights not to follow her example. “Okay,” he says. It only comes out a little shaky. “Does she call him anything else?”
“Eddie,” she nods. “Sometimes baby, but that’s when she has hew juice and is happy.”
Steve’s heart clenches. “Okay,” he answers. “How about if I put you up on my shoulders, so you can be way up high and see everything, and we go yell for your daddy?”
“M’kay’!” She agrees, so Steve situates her on his shoulders before turning back to Robin.
“You gonna be okay for a few minutes?”
“I’ll be fine,” Robin nods, grinning at Jemma. “You’d better help her. She needs it more than me.”
Steve chuckles. “You’re the best.”
“And don’t you forget it!” She calls on his way out of the store.
In the main hall of the mall now, Steve’s breath tries to catch in his throat. There’s a lot of people, and he’s not exactly sure how to do this. Finally, he decides to just go for it, parading up and down as he yells. “Eddie! Jemma is looking for you!”
“Daddy!” Jemma tries to help, even if her voice is too small. Steve gives her a high-five anyways.
On his way down a side hall, he hears someone behind him. “Jemma!”
“Daddy?” Jemma squirms on Steve’s shoulders, and he turns around to see a man running their direction. “Daddy!” She squeals, kicking in earnest, trying her best to swan dive off Steve’s shoulders.
He quickly lifts her off and holds her securely enough she won’t fall as he and Jemma’s father move towards each other.
“Oh, Jem, I was so worried about you,” he says quietly, taking her from Steve. “You can’t do that, okay? You can’t run off, remember?”
Jemma’s lip wobbles. “‘M sowwy, Daddy,” she says. “I wanted ice cweam.”
He kisses her forehead and hugs her close. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispers, then looks at Steve. “Thank you so much for helping her.”
Jemma wiggles in his grasp. “Daddy! Daddy he wowks in the ice cweam stowe! An’ he helped me! An’ his name is-” she frowns, turns to look at Steve. “I fowgot.”
Steve chuckles. “My name is Steve,” he tells both her and her father. “Eddie, right?”
“That’s me,” he confirms with a nod. “Please tell me she wasn’t too much trouble.”
“None at all,” Steve promises, then grins. “She’s an absolute riot, actually.”
Eddie winces. “What did she say this time?”
“I think this might be my fault,” Steve admits. “I was trying to find out your name, so I asked what her mom calls you.”
“Oh no,” Eddie whispers.
Steve nods. “She was very confident. And, uh, very willing to share.”
Eddie winces again. “Baby? Or-”
“Both,” Steve nods, then smiles. “But it worked out in the end, we found you. And maybe you two could get a couple of cones? On me?” He grins. “I’ve found there’s not much that a good ice cream cone can’t fix.”
Eddie smiles apologetically. “We’ve actually got to go,” he says, then shifts. “But maybe I could give you my number? Buy you dinner to thank you?”
Steve grins as he looks Eddie up and down. “Just dinner?”
Eddie stares at him. “I’ll try to get a sitter.”
“Deal,” Steve grins, offering his hand to shake.
When he makes it back to the store, he grins at Robin. “Put a tally on the scoreboard, Robin, I’ve got a number. And, if I play it right, a date.”
Robin judges him with her eyebrows. “Did you really hit on a girl out there?”
Steve snorts. “No. But Jemma’s dad is very appreciative. He wants to thank me over dinner.” He smirks and leans over the counter to get into her space in a way he knows annoys her. “And he’s gonna get a sitter.”
Robin narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t know what you are, Steve Harrington, but one day I’ll figure you out.”
Steve snorts. “I don’t doubt it.”
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#eventual steddie#robin buckley#they’re almost-friends in this one#no upside down au#she doesn’t hate him#she just likes teasing him#jemma munson#kid fic#Eddie Munson has a kid#starambles
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also on ao3
(cw: tics, bullying)
Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.
Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)
'S just a shiver, I'm fine.
He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.
It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.
The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.
They got worse.
By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.
That year, he became the freak.
At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.
He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)
His tics got worse.
In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.
Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--
So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.
No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.
He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.
And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.
Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.
He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.
He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--
But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.
And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.
Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.
Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.
The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.
Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.
When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.
This one goes here, right?
Yeah.
On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.
It's okay. It's okay.
And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.
He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.
When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?
Steve kisses him.
And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.
One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.
Steve just says, Mine too.
#welcome to projection central#hand wrote this during a lecture today bc i was bored and realised a lot of ppl write/hc eddie as autistic and w adhd#but usually those are the only kinda neurodivergencies i see in fan content#(pretend thats a word)#but then i thought eddie having tics would make sense for his character and i have Experience to write from so#(disclaimer i was not bullied in school nor was i removed from classes (unless i left on my accord bc i wanted to hide in the bathroom))#(some kids teased me or mimicked me or told me to 'do it again' but i dealt w them)#(and the one kid that was really a dick ended up being rly nice by the time we graduated he's cool)#(and i got lucky w my teachers i think they were all very sweet and considerate)#(but i thought this story would make sense and go along with eddies story in the canon)#anyway give eddie tics#anotther hc that his tics calm down/stop when he's playing guitar and playing d&d#mine arent as bad as they were in high school but back then (and on bad days now) they usually calm down#when im focused on something or doing something i enjoy (ie drawing or painting or st)#steddie#steddie oneshot#eddie munson#eddie munson oneshot#steve harrington#steve harrington one shot#stranger things#stranger things one shot
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