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tickle-bugs · 1 year

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I just wanted to say regardless of whether you've seen the show that you're my favorite ST writer. I dont know how you capture the characters so well while further developing them perfectly but it's genuinely incredible. I must've read your steddie fics like 97 times just because I adore them <3 If you're still taking prompts, I'd love to maybe see Steve and Eddie! Maybe with "Oh this is too good to pass up" as the dialogue? Either way, you're incredible and I can't wait to read all your other work <3

Okay, wow this is VERY sweet ;w; You are so so kind anon. I think I'm getting better at writing them now after having practiced. Those first fics have a fond place in my heart for being the first ones, but every day I am tempted to rewrite them LMAO

anyways, I'm certainly far from perfect but I'm grateful that you enjoy them!! This warms my heart so much. I really do love writing them and the positive response to those fics made me wanna keep going and improve. Still haven't seen the show yet but honestly I'm chilling in this little niche I've carved for them.

Hopefully this fic makes you happy and pushes me a lil closer to being worthy of the honor of being your fav. Really hope you enjoy--I fuckin love these boys <3

...................

Ahoy, Sailor

You can read this as a season three au or as season four. Either way, Steve and Eddie have a bitchy will they/won’t they rivalry situation going on. Eddie REALLY likes pushing Steve’s buttons.

It’s not unusual for Eddie to find his way to the Harrington house for some excuse or another, but he’ll admit it’s unusual to be invited. He tends to just appear and haunt Steve unasked. It’s more fun that way.

Steve had called him, muttering something about how Eddie needed to come pick up his vest because it ‘smelled like a depressed hippie’. Eddie had fired back that Steve’s room couldn’t possibly smell any better without it, and their usual bickering had Eddie leaving fifteen minutes later with a grin on his face.

He loves Steve. Messing with him, that is. So, naturally, when Eddie ascends the stairs and sees Steve dressed like a little schoolboy, he takes a minute to compose his best jokes.

“Ahoy, sailor.” Eddie whistles, leaning in the doorway to Steve’s room. He drinks in the Scoops Ahoy uniform and all it blessedly has to offer.

“Wh—oh, fuck off. It’s laundry day.” Steve rolls his eyes.

“Aye aye, cap’n.” Eddie salutes. Steve flips him off.

“Cool the attitude, sassy lost child.” Eddie snorts. There’s piles of clothes on every surface in the room, arranged in a way that suggests intention but would baffle even the most equipped psychologist. Eddie wants to ask about the system here, but he knows he’s no better, so he just watches Steve flit around with a little pout on his face.

“You look like Donald Duck’s worst cousin.” Eddie snickers into his fist.

“You done?” Steve puts his hands on his hips.

“For now.” Eddie shrugs. Steve huffs.

Steve keeps rooting through the piles on the floor--slow enough to be mesmerizing, but fast enough where he’s clearly looking for something specific. Oh, his vest. Laundry. Eddie scans the room until, aha--he spots it hanging over the back of Steve’s desk chair, smooth and loved. Striking, compared to the state of everything else. Eddie smiles before he can catch himself.

“My vest is over there.” Eddie jerks a thumb towards Steve’s desk.

“Yeah, I see that.” Steve gives him a perplexed look. He shakes his head and keeps drifting through the clothes.

“Then what are you looking for?” Eddie ventures, stepping into the room properly. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t shrug his vest on. It feels like a conclusion of business, a visual excuse for Steve to kick him out despite the olive branch he’s inexplicably extended.

“A shirt. Robin’s got a date to impress.” Steve sorts through a pile. He looks between a yellow sweater and a green one, sighs, and tosses them both aside.

“By wearing…your clothes?”

“Yes, Munson, keep up.” Steve puts a hand on his hip. “She’s gonna be here eventually, probably freaking out, and I wanna give her two options. Just two. She’s gotta look good, but she’s gotta be comfortable.”

“Right.” Eddie nods slowly, as if this makes sense.

“Hey, make yourself useful. I’ve got this shirt, uhm, dark blue? With a little stripe? If you find it, let me know.” Steve flaps a hand at him. Eddie knows precisely the shirt--it fits Steve distractingly well.

“I’ll get right on that, sweetheart.” Eddie flops backwards on the bed. Steve shoots him a withering look. Eddie gives his most charming smile and folds his arms behind his head.

God, he loves this part of their little dance. The way Steve looks at him, the undeniable fondness buried beneath the exasperation—it’s a thrill.

Steve tugs at a shirt underneath Eddie’s body, but he can’t get it free. He heaves a belabored sigh.

“Do you mind?” Steve’s eyebrow twitches.

“Not at all. I’m enjoying myself immensely.” Eddie smirks.

“If you stretch out my shirt, I’m gonna push you in the goddamn pool. Get up!” Steve jabs Eddie in the side. Eddie giggles and flinches violently.

Steve Harrington is looking at him as if he’s the best present he’s ever received, and while some deep and unacknowledged part of Eddie does flips at the sight, it’s terrifying.

“Oh, this is too good to pass up.” Steve crawls onto the bed after him, his devilish grin curling wider by the second. Eddie’s face burns and he scrambles to flee, but Steve’s already on top of him.

“Don’t you dare, Harring—aaah!” Eddie’s soul and dignity flee him in a high-pitched shriek.

“Holy shit. I’m barely touching you.” Steve staccato pokes him everywhere he can reach, quick and light, and Eddie can’t stop the giggles bursting from him in waves. He wants to think of something witty to say, but it tickles, and Steve’s smirking—it’s a lot to ask of man under these conditions.

Steve starts tickling him in earnest, his fingers skittering wherever they can reach. When Steve trips up his ribs, Eddie arches like he’s being hit with a defibrillator. He smushes his face into his hands, hoping maybe he’ll smother himself and they can call this a day, but Steve tuts at him and pulls his hands away from his face.

“No way you’re this ticklish,” Steve says again—does he really need to rub it in—and gives Eddie’s sides a curious squeeze. Eddie shrieks and flips himself over, attempting to crawl towards freedom.

“Where’re you going?” Steve drags Eddie back into place by his waist. He makes an incoherent whining noise that breaks off into laughter and goes limp on the bed. He tries to roll back over but Steve is solid on top of him. Being face-down gives him the small mercy of being able to hide his face while he cackles.

God, he didn’t even know that the back of someone’s ribs could be ticklish. Holy hell.

Eddie grabs at Steve’s knee and releases a desperate jumble of syllables. Steve yelps and falls backwards off the bed.

Eddie peeks at him over the edge of the bed, laughter petering off into gentle embers. Steve stares up at him, wide-eyed. Eddie backtracks, trying to figure out why a simple touch would’ve elicited such a big reac—oh. Oh.

Steve’s halfway down the stairs before Eddie even realizes he’s gone.

“Hey! Get back here!” Eddie skids after him two stairs at a time, swiping at the back of Steve’s shirt.

Eddie tackles Steve over the back of the couch, both of them a tangle of screeching, flailing limbs. Steve’s stronger but Eddie is scrappy, having long since abandoned his self-preservation instincts. Steve tries to roll them over and Eddie goes limp. Steve grunts under the deadweight, and it gives Eddie the two seconds he needs to clamber on top of him properly.

“Now—“ Eddie finally wrestles Steve down, huffing a lock of hair out of his eyes— “What the everloving fuck was that?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s poker face is good, but Eddie can see right through that easy smile. He walks his fingers across Steve’s stomach. Steve inhales sharply.

“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Eddie raises his eyebrows innocently. Steve narrows his eyes at him, but his fake smile is very slowly twitching into a real one.

Spurred on, Eddie kneads into Steve’s stomach, gentle and a little clumsy. Steve trembles under him, wrenching a hand free just to cover his face. Little huffs and snickers wobble out of him.

“Dishing out what you can’t take? Oh, this is precious.” Eddie snickers. Steve shoves his hand into the side of his face to push him away. Eddie licks it.

Steve screeches, but that breaks the dam. The first beautiful sound from him is a snort. Eddie gasps happily, then laughs right along with Steve.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t laugh, he does, but it’s often the restrained chuckle that Eddie loves to give every royal NPC in his campaign. Eddie’s never heard anything like this, this bubbly rush littered with voice-cracks and little bouts of nose-scrunched hiccups. He didn’t know Steve was even capable of these kinds of noises.

The stupid little Scoops shirt rides up and Eddie takes advantage of bare skin. Steve squeals and goes boneless on the couch. He hits Eddie with the full brunt of his smile, unfiltered and radiant, and something in Eddie’s chest flutters.

“EddieEddieEddie--” Steve snorts again, and the speed at which his face turns scarlet suggests embarrassment. Eddie can’t imagine why.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Eddie reaches behind him and finds Steve’s knee, tickling just where the goofy shorts stop, and Steve wails. He curls his head into Eddie’s chest and seems to resign himself to die there. Eddie has absolutely no feelings about how warm Steve feels or the desperate little leg kick he does.

Steve grabs Eddie’s wrists and he relents, figuring the promise of future mischief is a sufficient tradeoff for a truce. Steve collapses back into the couch cushions with a delirious little giggle, rubbing his hands over his beaming face. Steve peeks at him overtop his hands, then snickers again.

The longer they sit here, both breathing a little hard, the longer Eddie has to notice the gentle warmth and curve of Steve’s eyes. A hysterical man would call them doe-like. Eddie accepts this new state of being and leans a little closer. His guitar pick necklace dangles over Steve’s chest. Steve’s jaw falls slack, eyes flitting to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s hair falls in a frizzy curtain around them both.

Eddie doesn’t see Robin so much as he hears her—the screech of disgust bounces off every wall. He pops his head up and they make direct, unfortunate eye contact. She shoots him an all-knowing look with her beady, accusatory little eyes and he gives her his most threatening zip it gesture.

Steve decides that that’s the moment to counterattack, sending a cackling Eddie toppling off the cushions and onto the floor. Steve slides down after him, ducking under a flailing arm and scribbling his fingers wherever he can reach. Eddie curls up like a pillbug. He can hear Robin saying something but it's unintelligible over the sound of his own laughter.

“I know, right?” Steve grins back at her, then looks back to Eddie. Softly.

Steve has the audacity to wink at him. Eddie files that little moment away for Tonight Eddie to scream into a pillow about, and instead focuses on launching a counter-counterattack that’ll save his life.

#my fics #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #ticklish!steve harrington #ticklish!eddie munson #me answering this ask and sweating: dont write an essay dont write an essay there's already a fic attached to this dont--#anyways thank you anon ive been sitting on these kind words for a little bit and it really means a lot to me. <3 #kind anons carry this blog on their backs fr #also codependent besties stobin are everything to me. robin steals steves clothes and then he just starts giving them to her #also at the end robin definitely is saying that eddie laughs like a goblin and steves like yeah. he does <3 #continuation of the 'robin has a key to steve's house' saga

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warrenwrites · 2 years

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Distracting Hands

Summary: You and Eddie have sat next to each other once a day, 5 days a week for a year where you get along like a house on fire. One day you discover something interesting about your classmate that leads to further development in your friendship. A/N: Part 1/3 of a Eddie x Sunshine!Reader, Slowburn, Friends to Lovers set in school before the events of season 4. This is my first story in a while so any feedback is appreciated! Word count: 3.3K

*This isn't proof read because I wanna post it now and if I stare at it anymore I'm gonna forget how to read*

Part 2

I was raining outside and the class was droning on. Everything had a calm aura to it. The class wasn't rowdy and the teacher wasn't enforcing a great deal of focus from her students. It was nice, but it wasn't an area that inspired extreme focus, so your attention fell from the work and was directed towards your desk mate, Eddie Munson.

The two of you had a very lighthearted relationship. You had been sat together at the beginning of the year and despite the chatter around the school, Eddie was the softest person you’d ever met. At first you didn’t talk all that much, mainly just laughed together at his quips to the teacher. Sometimes he’d toss a paper ball at your head and ask you to “decode what the hell she’s saying?” to which you’d share your notes and explain the work that he couldn’t seem to focus on.

>One Month in<

Once you had shown up late and tripped on your own feet, falling to your knees in front of everybody. Eddie winced and fought the urge to help you up, especially when he heard the scoffs and snickers of the cheerleaders in the corner. His heart was warmed when you stood up with a jump then lazily raised your arms above your head, mimicking a gymnast sticking the landed. A few people laughed and you found your seat where Eddie was waiting with a 9.5/10 sign, written in his book. It made you laugh and call his scoring system cruel.

>Three Months in<

However, it wasn’t until the day he showed up to class to find you completely deflated and blank in the face at your desk that you would consider yourselves ‘friends’. He tried to ask what happened but you only forced a smile with a weak “I’m okay, Eddie” in response that completely broke his heart. He didn’t know why he cared so much since you were practically strangers, but he missed your energy and decided right then and there that he’d move mountains to make today better for you. Since he couldn’t do that, he did the only thing he could think of.

You completely disassociated that lesson, not caring about a word the teacher had to say. When the lesson ended, you moved out of your seat to leave but was stopped by Eddie handing you two pages full of semi-organized notes. “Here, Sweetness.”

The nickname caught you off-guard but not nearly as much as what he was handing you. “Did- Did you take notes for me?”

“Not as pretty as yours,” he shrugged, “but I figured you could spend an hour colouring them like you do,” he teased, referring to your highlighting.

With a small burst of energy you gently took them and snapped your head up to meet his eyeline, ready to defend yourself. “It’s called coordinating!”

“Well, if you don’t want notes like mine, then tomorrow you’d better be your smiley self, because honestly? That was exhausting,” he huffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. You had to bit your lip to avoid laughing at his antics. ”I mean it, tomorrow,” he insisted. “I can’t stand seeing you down and we definitely can’t graduate on my notes, so...” he trailed off, taking a step back while waiting for a response. When you didn’t give one, too distracted by the kind gesture in your hands, he grabbed a scrunched up piece of paper and tossed it at your head, grazing past the side of your head.

You flinched and snapped your head towards him, then towards the paper on the floor, then back at him. “What was that for?” you laughed a little, a small smile breaking on your face.

Eddie shrugged in response, “I haven’t seen you smile yet today.” He smiled when he broke you, watching you giggle and face your attention back to the floor.

You barely had a response, talking to Eddie was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was fun and full of energy. “I’m sorry,” you caved. “It won’t happen again,” you joked.

“It better not!”

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to take some notes every now and then,” you challenged, enjoying the back and forth. “On your own volition.”

“Only if you can figure out how to explain your ‘coordinating system’“ he said, using exaggerated quotation marks in the air before turning to leave, “See you tomorrow, Smiles.”

>6 months in<

After that day, the two of you started to joke like it was second-nature and your year was significantly more positive. He grew fond of you the more he was in your bubbly aura; he related to the way you always had something to say, whether it was a comeback to him or a genuine contribution to the classwork.

You were off sick once and he pouted about it all day, unable to explain his attitude when questioned by the Hellfire club. When you returned he told you to never to it again, “I don’t care how, have a talk with your immune system, I don’t know but this place is unbearable without you.” It warmed your heart to hear so you never missed a lesson again.

It was your favorite class all because of him and yet you never hung out outside the boundaries of that classroom, much to both of your disappointment.

>Back to Present<

Your teacher had began writing notes on the chalkboard, taking a seat while you copied them down, then standing to erase the old ones to make room for more before carrying on. The scratching chalk was inaudible over the rain outside competing with the conversations of your classmates that sat in rows in front of you.

Eddie sat in his usual seat to your left, jacket hanging on the low backed chairs and occupied his time by drawing little doodles in the margin of your notes. A smiley face with crosses for the eyes, a poorly drawn ball of fire, he added a pig that looked more like a koala, a heart (to which he looked up and flashed you a boyish smile), followed by a normal smiley face that he soon changed his mind on and went back to cross out the eyes.

You were so enamored by watching his hands move across your page. Something about how his hands were so perfectly decorated just caught your full attention. Just the right rings and bracelets in just the right places, it was completely hypnotizing.

He had storyteller hands and they were wildly distracting in, at least right now, the most innocent way. In fact, they were so distracting that when you glanced up towards the chalkboard you found yourself about fifteen minutes behind on the notes.

An audible gasp left your lips as you snapped your attention down to your own pen in hand and started frantically writing to catch up, only faltering for a second when Eddie choked back a laugh. You ignored him, assuming he was just mocking your reaction. It wasn’t until he leaned in close to you and whispered to you, his romantic voice echoing in your brain, that you gave him your attention again.

“Textbook.” He was smirking, looking up at you from his slouched position through his eyelashes.

Your attention was bouncing from him to your notes, to the front of the classroom. “Hmm?” Your lips pressed shut as you struggled to understand.

“She’s copying straight from the book,” he clarified, reaching across you to pat your closed textbook. “You can take this down later.”

“Or now,” you argued, for no other reason than to egg his frantic behaviour on.

“Nooooo, draw with mee,” he whined, demonstrating by drawing further onto your page, almost touching your notes. “Come’on, I’ll help you take it down later.”

“Do you even own the textbook?” you challenged.

He mimicked you words back at you with a scrunched up face, making you giggled which caught his attention. “Am I not an upstanding scholar?” You scoffed at his question and he mimed a sword driving into his chest, falling back into his chair.

You were spiteful towards the distance between the two of you, almost pouting as he left your personal space.

Unmoving from his slouched position, he kicked your chair, jolting it enough to jostle you in your seat. “Relax, Sweetness. You know I hate seeing you stressed.” He wasn’t lying. For the duration of the year, if you were ever going grey for whatever reason, Eddie would find a way to cheer you up with his dramatic antics. He’d mouth the words the teacher was saying in a dramatically aristocrat, inaccurate voice dub, or you’d look over to see him struggling to read the notes while the book was upside down. He’d keep asking for your help until you turned the book around. He once told you ‘you’re too bright to look this sad” and that’s when the butterflies began. He said it in a comedic tone but he only ever enforced his unspoken promise, as he continued to do in this very moment. “Give it a rest and i’ll help you study at my place. Bring your textbook.”

“How’d you even know it was from the book?” Your ‘But Why/Can I Poke It?’ personality took hold in situations like these, always feeling the desire to poke the bear.

“Well.” Jolting upright from his seat, he pulled it closer to the desk, resting one arm on the desk and dropping his chin into the other, locking his Bambi eyes onto yours, twinkling as he teased you. “I actually pay attention in these lessons.”

“Excuse me?!” You whisper-shouted in disbelief “You WHAT?”

“You don’t think so?” He countered, mimicking your tone of voice.

“Eddie Munson, you are the poster boy for distraction and disfunction.”

He smirked and jutted his chin in your direction, “You think i’m distracting?”

You scoffed and shook your head, choosing to yank your paper out of his reach so he couldn't use it for his mini sketches anymore.

Eddie grumbled with narrowed eyes, almost growling in offence and kicked your leg lightly under the table. Biting back your smile you kicked him back and the two of you played a lazy game of footsie until he kicked your chair so hard it moved and kept his leg resting on the chair.

Under the desk you reached over and scratched at his knee, exposed from his ripped jeans in an idle attempt at pushing him off. You didn’t think anything of it until he yelped and kicked his knee lightly on the bottom of the desk. A few heads turned but no one’s attention was as grappled as yours and they turned back to their own conversations. “Oh shit!” You gasped. “Are you okay? I’m sohorry.” You couldn’t help but giggle a little, not after you heard him yip like that.

He was smirking to himself as he rubbed the top of his knee, “Nothin’ to worry about.”

His reaction caught you off guard. Eddie wasn’t one to be shy. At all. But he didn’t make eye contact again as he picked up his pen in both hands and fiddled with it on the desk. He didn’t initiate conversation again. Did you do something wrong? You definitely didn't do it too hard, but how could it have been too soft- Oh.

“Munson?” You questioned in a sweet voice, feigning innocence. He didn’t respond so you gave him a quick poke to the sides to which he flinched and squeaked once again.

Biting the inside of his cheek but still letting himself smile as he shifted in his seat, angling his waist in the opposite direction. You could see the dual grip on his pen getting tighter

“Eddieeee?”

“Yes, Fiend?” He maneuvered his face so you were nearly nose to nose, poorly biting back his smile as he locked you into eye contact once again.

“Are you-?”

“Absolutely not.” You started wiggling your fingers in the air as your hand got closer to his side, not yet touching him. Without breaking eye contact he huffed out some giggles through his nose, smiling a little wider but refusing to give in to his laughter. “Youuuuu are making a grahave mistake, Sweetness. Is it really worth it?”

“If you yelp like that again it will be,” you laughed, inching your fingers closer to scratch at his side. He did indeed flinch, rapidly turning his head in the opposite direction as he brought his arms up to cross over his chest. “Eddieee.” You spidered your fingers, scritching on his sides with a little more pressure, watching as he squirmed in silence until he flinched again and turned to face you.

“Okahay. Princess.” He grabbed your hands in his, bringing them to the halfway mark between the two of you. His eyes were bright and he opened his mouth, presumably to bargain but you were having none of it.

“You’re like, REAALLY sensitive then huh? If you won’t even let me-” You cut yourself off to pinch at his ribs, to which he nearly jumped out of the chair.

“Y/N-” He lightly slapped your hands for daring to attempt. “Listen-”

You put your hands right back, “I’m listening, it’s adorable.” With zero hesitation you pinched and scratched lightly at his sides, not wanting to cause enough of a scene to make this stop.

“HE-EY!” He folded his arms in and shrunk into his seat, smile now nearly splitting his face in half, his loud reaction almost catching the attention of those around you. When he realized you were in the clear, he bent forwards, arms still crossed and nearly resting his head on the desk to suppress the giggles bubbling up in his throat.

You coo’d at his reaction and nearly squee’d when he slowly shook his head in disbelief of the situation, embarrassed by the attention and even more so by your reaction. “Eddie, common, that’s precious.” Still smiling and maintaining his turtled position, he looked up to see your beaming smile as you tilted your head in adoration, not unlike that of a puppy.

Groaning, Eddie turned red in the face and put his head to the desk, completely bashful in attempt to salvage what little of his dignity he had left. “Don’t be embarrassed it’s cute.” You encouraged, leaning in to whisper in his ear, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

He jumped a little when your voice appeared closer than expected but made no effort to move.

Retreating slightly you scanned the classroom. The rain outside had picked up a little, raising the volume of chatter in the classroom. You were often glad the two of you were seated at the back, as Eddies antics tend to catch the eye. But right now? This was in your favour and you were planning to take full advantage of it.

Your bright smile morphed into one of mischief and you raise both your arms, moving your hands to have each one stationed either side of Eddie’s shoulders, scooting your chair as close as you could next to him. As light as a ghost you sprinkled your fingers on each ear/side of his neck as best you could through his mane of hair, “Eds, get up, you’re in class.”

“A-AHa!” Jumping in surprise, he raised his shoulders to his ears, jolting into an upright position, hair flouncing as he did and you could swear that his smile left a trail of sunshine as he moved. “HEY! HEY.”

“Hey, hey” You shrugged, laughing at him as if it were a normal conversation.

Eddie’s quick movement caught your arms in his switch in posture, your right hand grabbed his shoulder for stability and your left fell in surprise as he drew back, now resting comfortably on his ribs. The placement of your hands made him shiver and you harked a victory laugh in response, not yet moving your hands.

“You dohon’t hahave to doho thihis,” he pleaded, eyes big and sparkling.

“No, but I reaaaallly want to. Hold onto your pen again if you need to,” you mocked, dropping your right hand to his waist, giggling as he flinched.

“Yohou’re relehentless.” He was holding his hands up in defense, elbows as close as he could to his torso, struggling to maneuver his long limbs in the lack of space he’d created for himself.

“Oh please.” You rapidly grabbed at either side of his torso, it was like fighting a bucking bull as he dropped his head to his chest, grabbing and wresting with your hands, struggling to keep his laughter to a minor volume. You made it easy on him, giving him little breaks to suck in air but it wasn’t enough to not have him bouncing around in his seat to fight you off.

“Y/- y/nnnnn cuhuhuht ihihihihit ahahahaaout!”

“WHAT? I thought you loved being the center of attention,” you shot your hands into the top of his ribs for a second before dropping them to his hips.

He barked out a laugh then immediately grabbed your hands before they could touch his hips, pinning them to your shared desk. “Nooohohohonononono. No!”

“Soft spot?” You smirked, having the absolute time of your life.

“Don’t get smahart with mehe, Sweetheart.” He tilted his head to the side, sitting up to his full height, his deep eyes bore into yours and you felt butterflies flutter around in your insides.

“How can I get smart? I never pay attention,” you snarked, continuing his staring contest. He was too distracted by your eyes to speak, giving you the chance to speak. “I wouldn’t threaten me now, Munson. You still owe me.”

His smirk widened again back into the full smile you loved so much. Eyes still locked onto yours, he spoke “Is that right?”

You nearly faltered at the vocal fry in his voice, sometimes you forgot how deep it naturally was when he wasn’t pitching it up in excitement. “That’s right.” As you spoke you heard the bell ring over your heads, dismissing you to your next class. “Forty minutes of note taking. Gotta help the underachieving fiend I am catch up on todays lesson.”

Eddie debated making an accusation about you being the fault of the wasted lesson but he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. “Alright, page 46. Bring your text book.”

“Meet at your place after school?”

“You got it, Sweetheart.”

You went to move out of your desk but noticed the warmth still on your hands before you did. “Eddie,” you choked.

“Hmm?”

“You have to let go of my hands,” you felt your cheeks get hot and felt slightly embarrassed knowing the class would soon be empty and your teacher would just see you and Eddie holding hands, staring at each other in the back of her classroom.

“Do I?” He questioned, enjoying the returned dynamic of him joking at you, beaming smile staring him down.

You looked down at his distracting hands once again and tried to convince yourself they were the only part of him that had you entranced. ‘Snap out of it, moron’. You shifted your hands out of his grasp to skitter your fingers over his hands in a tickly motion. “Unless you wanna loose yours,” you joked, pulling away and collecting your stuff, missing his gaze as you did.

Eddie didn’t move immediately, he watched you scramble out of your seat, gathering your stuff and shoving it into your bag in a frenzy. Typically he hated this part of the day where the two of you would part ways and he wouldn’t see you this intimately. Your relationship was reduced to bright smiles and obnoxious waves in the hallway when you’d pass which just weren’t enough for him. Fridays were the worst since he wouldn’t see you for the whole weekend. But today? it was only a matter of hours until you were reunited at his place.

AT HIS PLACE?

Eddie began to internally panic, he had to get home as soon as possible and clean before you came by. His place? You knew where he lived, why would you suggest his place?

Not noticing his internal alarm, you shuffled away, making a beeline to your next class, muttering your usual “Bye, Eds.” That warmed and stung his heart every day.

Eddie followed your lead after a moment, grabbing his stuff to leave, but not before noticing what was left, caught up in his mess. Your textbook. He smiled and took it with him, somehow it calmed him from his hysteria, knowing that soon he’d see you again to return in and when he did? it was going to be completely vandalized.

Read Part 2 Here

#eddie munson #eddie munson tickle #ler!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #lee!eddie #lee!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #ticklish!eddie munson #ticklish!eddie #ticklish!reader

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writingwitharlo · 1 year

Text

A Secret Language

a/n: MY FIRST ST FIC!!! this took way longer than expected and is therefore a big chungus

anon: steve and eddie with “It’s been a while since you tickled me.” (33)

Tickle Trope Prompts

(Stranger Things; Steve, Eddie)

3845 words

CW: implied masturbation

Eddie liked to touch. This mostly applied to soothing any anxiety his body had no other way of expelling. Whether that was picking at the dry skin of his cuticle, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers, peeling off labels from beer bottles - the list was endless.

Eddie also liked to touch people. Not inappropriately, obviously. Just in small, casual ways. Little touches like elbows and shoulders and knees bumping together in close proximity, ruffling of hair, a pat on the shoulder - that list was equally endless.

Of course, he couldn’t just go around touching whoever he pleased and for a long time he didn’t even know how much he had craved that form of affection until new people entered his life like a stampede.

New people who didn’t think he was weird- Well, maybe they did, but they liked that about him. New people, who actually enjoyed spending time with him and valued his opinion. It was still an adjustment, not just for Eddie, who had to learn quickly that not everyone liked to be touched. But Eddie was a quick learner, and surprisingly observant.

So, he noticed the way Nancy always moved back when someone brushed up against her even just accidentally, maintaining a secure bubble of space for herself that she only allowed to be crossed on the rarest of occasions.

Eddie also noticed how Robin hated any touch that wasn’t completely obvious when it came. He had witnessed Steve sneaking up behind her on too many occasions not to notice. How her body visibly tensed when she sensed a presence behind her and the surprised yells she let out every single time, without fail. It took poor, oblivious Steve more than one scolding to realise that Robin did not appreciate his antics in the slightest before he finally stopped.

And then there was Steve. What didn’t Eddie notice about Steve? Perhaps he noticed too much for his own good. Steve, who had never pulled away from any of Eddie’s touches, whether he had planted them on purpose or without thinking. Steve, who let his leg relax enough so his knee bumped with Eddie’s whenever they sat beside each other. Steve, who would ask for hugs whenever a specific amount of beers was in his system. Eddie had counted them. It was eight.

Perhaps it was this mutual understanding that brought the two boys closer together as time went on. The understanding of how healing touch could be, how it could be its own secret language.

It took some time before their touches turned more playful, deliberately placed to draw out a reaction from the other. At first it were harmless shoves and nudges, which turned into messing up of caringly styled hair and tripping each other up when walking, which turned into headlocks and squabbles and ended with the addition of tickling.

The discovery had happened accidentally, at least that’s how Eddie remembered it. Stuck in a particularly secure headlock, Eddie was forced to grip onto Steve’s waist for balance which worked like a charm in releasing the headlock altogether. It wasn’t until Eddie had straightened up that he noticed Steve keeping his arms protectively close, wide-eyed with a grin tugging on the corner of his mouth.

From that day on, Steve easily became the victim of one of Eddie’s tickle attacks about three times a week. Even when Steve tried to fight back or make the first move, Eddie always managed to get the upper hand. Too quickly for Steve’s liking.

The attacks never lasted for long, at least not at first. But the longer their little game continued, the greedier Eddie became. There was this thrill he got from that kind of contact. Or was it just because the contact was with Steve?

To be fair, Eddie had not dared to tickle anyone other than Steve, besides Dustin on occasion. But that was different. Dustin needed to be reminded to respect his elders. Steve… Well, Steve just made it way too easy.

Eddie wouldn’t consider himself a skilled tickler. How could he? He had barely had any sort of physical contact with anyone for years. Steve would probably blame it on being a skilled guitarist or something like that, because nobody had ever taken him to pieces the way Eddie had. Not that he would ever say that to his face, of course.

Either way, Eddie craved more. More choked protests, more flailing limbs, more hearty cackles and frantic giggles, more heated cheeks and tears of mirth, more twitching muscle beneath his fingertips. It was addictive and the addiction was infuriating.

Eddie found himself lying awake at night, cheeks almost sore from smiling as he replayed the sound of Steve’s laugh over and over in his head. His fingers itched to draw out more of the heavenly sound, making him restless. Dragging his fingers over his own bare torso just wasn’t quite the same, even if it did still that craving for the time being.

It wasn’t until one autumn morning that Eddie awoke with a sensation that filled him with dread. There had only been about three occasions before where Steve’s laughter had followed Eddie into his dreams. But this time was different. And it was bad.

Eddie lay as still as possible, staring at a dark spot on the ceiling as if it would help. But it didn’t and he couldn’t bear the sensation any longer. Hesitantly, he moved his hand down his torso, following the light trail of hairs beneath his belly button until he reached the waistband of his boxers. His hand paused and after a slow, deep exhale, it plunged beneath the fabric.

The problem was taken care of in no time, Eddie’s brain filled with images of that pearly white grin and scrunched up nose until he was done. He was still catching his breath, cheeks lightly flushed as he cleaned up his mess before getting dressed, ready to pretend like none of that had actually happened.

Two more times Eddie pretended like nothing happened until the feeling of guilt and shame turned his stomach into knots. There was no denying it at that point. He had a big, fat crush on Steve Harrington.

It wasn’t right. He knew better. A touch was never just a touch. At least when it came to girls, that’s what he knew. So why should it be different with a guy? Nobody should think like that about their friend- their best friend. He didn’t know any best friends that acted the way he did with Steve. Not in that way. He cried when it happened the fourth time.

Practically overnight, it seemed that Eddie’s hands were sewn into his pockets. The colder, brisker weather was the perfect excuse and he didn’t think Steve would even notice anyway.

Steve noticed. Perhaps not right away but he did. He didn’t really complain when the regular tickle attacks were reduced to the occasional jab or pinch at first. When they disappeared completely, that’s when he noticed. When his hugs were no longer reciprocated and what was previously a lingering hand on his shoulder, was now a brief fistbump with his arm, that’s when he became worried.

But Steve wasn’t good at bringing up emotional stuff - it was something he was still working on - and he thought, hoped perhaps, that this behaviour was temporary. Three weeks passed until Steve’s patients broke.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“What’s been going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

The Munson trailer was cosy and surprisingly warm considering the freezing temperatures Hawkins had been experiencing. Steve pulled one foot onto the lumpy couch, tucking it beneath the other thigh as he tapped some ash from the joint into a nearby ashtray.

Steve had practically invited himself over to Eddie’s, telling him something about his parents having some important business friends over and that he would rather be anywhere than at home. That they had been on his case even more than usual recently and that he needed to take a load off.

How was Eddie supposed to say no to that? He let him into the trailer, glad that it was already dark out and the lights in the trailer were dim so that any flushed cheeks could go unnoticed. He rolled a joint for Steve before settling back on the floor beside the coffee table where he had been before the unexpected intrusion, writing up a new DnD campaign.

Steve had watched in silence for a while, occasionally letting his gaze wander around the room to see if anything had changed. It felt like it had been ages since he was in the trailer last. Quiet music was playing from somewhere, something slow and calm.

They had passed the joint back and forth a couple times before Steve broke the silence. Weed made Steve honest, Eddie had noticed.

“I mean…” He paused to take another drag, holding the smoke to give him time to think before releasing it with an exhale. “You seem different. Feel like I’ve barely seen you recently. And when I do you’re…” He waved his hand a bit as he took another drag, making Eddie gaze up at him. “It’s like you’re barely there.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and held his hand out for his turn. Only Steve could make things sound so dramatic. “Well, I’m right here, Harrington,” he replied once he could take a drag of his own.

Steve huffed a bit at the reply and pulled his other foot up so he could sit criss-crossed, leaning forward so he could see some of what Eddie was working on. But the lights were too dim and his eyes blurred the letters anyway, so there was no point. He rubbed at his eyes as he leaned back, head tilted back against the backrest.

“It just-...” Steve took a slow breath. “It’s been a while since you tickled me.”

Eddie froze, gaze slowly lifting from the papers before him to the other boy, relieved to find him staring at the ceiling. It hadn’t been ‘a while’. It had been three weeks. That was ages, an eternity. “Okay,” he replied slowly, dragging the word out as if to imply for Steve to elaborate since he didn’t know what else he could say himself.

Of course Steve stayed silent and Eddie’s knee began to bounce beneath the table. “Are you-” No, these were dangerous waters. “Is this your way of telling me that you miss it?” He did his best to sound teasing, sarcastic, as if there was a smirk on his voice when there was only panic.

“Well… Yeah, kinda.”

Not the answer he was expecting. Shitshitshit. Steve lifted his head as he continued to talk but before his eyes could find Eddie’s, he was already focusing on his papers again, scribbling away as if he were writing real words.

“But other stuff, too. I mean… you’re all the way over there-”

“I can’t write from the couch,” Eddie argued quickly, which was the truth. It had not stopped him from abandoning his task to join Steve for a smoke in the past though. He seemed to remember the joint in his hand and took one last long drag to finish it off, holding the smoke in for as long as he could.

“Alright, well… You made Dustin sit between us when we went to see Star Trek.” Eddie could feel Steve’s eyes on him and he was becoming hot under his gaze. He did do that, there was no denying it.

“And you refused to get in the front seat when I dropped you off after your last DnD session. The last four DnD sessions, actually. And you know how much I hate having Max in the front.” Eddie lifted his head again, just as slowly as before only to find Steve pouting at him. Damn, he looked cute. Close to a petulant child but still cute.

Eddie’s face was hot from his neck all the way to his ears, which were luckily hidden by his hair.

“So, what is it?”

Eddie blinked. “What’s what?”

“What’s been going on with you?”

Eddie was backed into the corner and he could feel it. Shitshitshit. Fuck. His heart was racing faster than he would like and his hands were starting to become clammy. “N-Nothing.” He got to his feet, mumbling a quick ‘I need a drink’ as he shuffled over to the fridge.

The light cast a dim glow onto Eddie’s face and just for a few moments he closed his eyes, allowing the cooled air to hit his burning face before grabbing a can of coke. He shut the door, ready to turn back when he bumped into something solid beside him. Steve.

“Are you avoiding me?” There was something hurt in Steve’s voice and it broke Eddie’s heart.

“N-No.” His feet moved back slightly, the proximity too overwhelming for the moment. “I’m not avoiding you.” It was a lie. This time he was physically backed into a corner, the edge of the kitchenette counter making contact as he took another small step back.

Steve’s head tilted to the side, hands coming to rest on his hips. “Okay. Then what about all the things I just said? Because I didn’t make them up?” Curse Steve’s stubbornness.

Eddie tried to act casual, leaning back against the counter as he picked at the tab of the can, never even opening it. “It’s not-... I- I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.” That wasn’t a lie.

Steve frowned. At least Eddie imagened a frown in the pause that followed. He wasn’t exactly looking at Steve’s face. “What people?”

“You know, just-” He waved his hand uselessly. “People.”

There was another pause. “No. I don’t know.”

Eddie sighed and shook his head, about to head back over to the coffee table. “Just forget it-” But as he was about to take a step forward, so did Steve, forcing him back against the counter.

“Why won’t you tell me?” Eddie was expecting some annoyance but as his eyes flickered up to the face that was so much closer now, all he saw was hurt, and concern - creased brows and worry.

“I-... I uhm…” Eddie felt hot again. He swallowed and he was sure Steve could hear it. He wanted to look anywhere but at Steve but his eyes wouldn’t tear away. “I don’t-”

“I have ways of making you talk, you know?” Steve’s head tilted to the side again. The concern was fighting against something trying to take its place. And was that a smirk tugging on his lips?

“No, you don’t-” Before Eddie could even finish the words, the room was spinning. The coke slipped from his fingers as he yelped and it tumbled to the ground with a clatter. Blinking rapidly, he found himself looking down at two pairs of socked feet and the grubby tiles of the kitchen. “Steve- Agh!”

A noogie, really? They weren’t kids anymore. “Fuck off, man!” Was this his way of making him talk?

“I told you what I want.” This was certainly not how Eddie had imagined his night to go.

“Eat shit!” Eddie knew it was no use tugging on Steve’s arm. He was simply stronger. One thing Steve seemed to have forgotten was what happens when Eddie wants to get out of a headlock.

One hand slipped up his back so far as it could reach before moving to Steve’s exposed side while the other gripped onto Steve’s knee. It took him one second too many to realise what was about to happen. An indignant shriek, frantic giggles and a buckling leg later, the room was spinning again.

With a muffled thud, both boys hit the ground, their bodies entangled and piled on top of each other. Steve reached up to move his hair out of his eyes with a groan but was quick to snap his arm back down as vicious fingers formed a claw over his ribs.

“Nonono, Ed- Eddie!”

It seemed as though Eddie’s floodgates had been opened. The itch he had been denying to be scratched was gripping him, taking control of his hands as they seeked out the sensitive spots they remembered. One hand at his ribs, the other at his hip and Steve was howling.

Eddie had found a way to half straddle him and half lay on top of him, keeping him on his back despite his useless kicks and desperate protests. Steve’s free hand, the one not protecting his ribs, came up to grip at Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie figured it was an attempt to push him away but the laughter had Steve weak, as usual. So, of course he took his opening.

Steve’s back arched off the floor when the claw from his hip darted right into his armpit. He bucked his hips a couple times before his silent laughter rendered him useless. Only now did Eddie realise that he was laughing too, clearly enjoying his friend’s misery. His friend…

Eddie’s hands stilled suddenly and he moved to sit up, clearing his throat awkwardly. His whole body was burning, only this time he wasn’t sure if it was due to the proximity or the exertion. It didn’t matter. He moved to a crouch but before he could rise up, the room turned into a blur for a third time as something solid collided with him from behind.

With a grunt, Eddie landed face first in the worn down carpet beside the kitchen. Luckily, he had been able to catch most of his weight with his hands but before he got a moment to turn around and question the culprit, warmth settled against the back of his thighs. Eddie’s breath hitched and the counter attack began.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet, Munson.”

Eddie was mainly surprised by the lack of breathlessness in Steve's voice, having expected him to take longer to recover. That’s all he really got to think about as those rapid squeezes focused right above the back of his knee, firing up the nerve endings all the way up his thighs. Not good. Very much not good.

“Fuck, Steve! Get off, I mean it!” He tried to sound as serious as he could but his own giggly voice was ruining that for him. Lucky for him, Steve hadn’t thought to pin him down or lay on top of him.

With a bit of a struggle, Eddie managed to flip onto his back, which ended the attack on his legs but opened up all the other spots he would have been able to protect otherwise. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

They grappled for a while, shouting for the other to give up while maintaining their own stubbornness. Steve got Eddie on his back more often, just because he was stronger. Eddie was more nimble, though. This time he brought one hand up between them, fluttering his fingers against Steve’s belly, where the fabric of his shirt hung loosely from his frame.

Steve yelped and flopped right on top of Eddie, who groaned quietly while still trying to get free and avoid the other’s questioning. It was useless.

“Why won’t you tell me?” They were the only words Steve had repeated over and over since the counter attack.

“Fuck off!” The heat in Eddie’s voice disappeared when a smile betrayed him, shoving at Steve to get him off.

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“Munson, tell me!”

“Why are you so stupid?” Eddie grabbed either side of Steve’s face-

“Well, that’s just m- hmb.” and brought their lips crashing together.

Everything stopped. For all he knew, Hawkins and all of the world had been swallowed up by the Upsidedown after all. But when Eddie finally pulled away again, Steve was still right there, staring back at him with wide eyes. The skin beneath his fingers felt hot, so Eddie released him and scrambled to sit up. “That’s why.”

He can’t help the bitterness that seeps through as he gets up, brushing himself off before heading back over to the coffee table. He slumped back down on the floor, staring blankly at his scribbles as he waited for Steve to run out or come over to hit him or anything. Anything would be nice. Out of all the options he had, Eddie would not have put ‘laughing his ass off’ on the list.

Except, that was exactly what happened. It started with a couple chuckles at first and quickly grew to full on hysterics. Eddie’s brows furrowed together in confusion. He couldn’t see the other boy from his spot on the floor. All he could see was a mop of brown hair on the floor just past the counter.

“Eddie!” Steve called out when he got enough air in his lungs but Eddie refused to answer, just watching the mop of hair move until he was fully out of sight. There was a groan and an attempt at composure before Steve came into view again. Slowly, he lifted himself to his feet, gripping the counter for support as the occasional wave of laughter still shook through him, making it hard to stay upright.

“Eddie.” Steve wiped at his teary eyes before spotting the other over on the floor, slowly staggering over towards him.

Eddie tried to remain as still as possible despite his trembling, hoping silently that Steve might not see him and just decide to go home. He continued to hope even when Steve was already coming to crouch beside him.

Eddie’s brows stayed furrowed, eyes slightly widened as he tried to see as much as possible in the dim light. Steve just stared at him with that goofy grin of his, the one he only wore when he had given up on trying to stop smiling. “What?” Eddie asked, trying to sound annoyed or at least impassive.

Steve blinked, his head tilting to the side like a curious puppy with his warm eyes sparkling in the dark. “You’re an idiot.” Before Eddie could ask what he meant, lips were against his again, softer and less forced than his but still eager.

Eddie couldn’t comprehend. Perhaps he was too high to comprehend and it didn’t matter. All he knew was that Steve hadn’t run out or tried to beat him up but rather came back for more. There were so many unformed questions swirling around in his mind, all of which he refused to acknowledge as he gripped onto Steve’s shirt.

A loud bang made the two fly away from each other. They looked around, panicked and confused before realising what had happened. Their eyes met and this time, both of them fell into hysterical laughter, gripping the other for support as tears filled their eyes that were impossible to hold back.

The can of coke Eddie had dropped had chosen that exact moment to explode on them, the carbonation bursting through the weakened seal that Eddie had fiddled with.

Almost symbolically, with the release of the carbonation, all tension between the two boys had vanished.

#eddie munson has a tickle kink #ticklish!eddie munson #ticklish!steve harrington #tickle fic #stranger things #stranger things tickle fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie tickle fic #steddie tickling #steddie #steve/eddie #tickling #tickle community #tickle kink

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amazingmsme · 2 years

Text

Draw Me Something as Pretty as You

AN: This is my second commission and I couldn’t be happier with how it turned out! This is for the wonderful and lovely @ticklishraspberries raspberries who has been such a great friend in this community. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for giving such a great prompt to work with! So glad to finally hop on the steddie fic train. As always, hope you enjoy!

Steve often found himself staring at Eddie, especially at the most inopportune times. He couldn't help it; the man was mesmerizing. His sense of style was always roguishly on point, his hair tousled in such a way that it spilled over his shoulders perfectly. His clunky rings glistened in the sun, accentuating his long, dexterous fingers. And oh how Steve had fantasized about those fingers trailing his body. But lately, Steve couldn't stop thinking about the tattoos scattered across his body like confetti.

They were laying by Steve's pool, grateful that his parents were gone on another business trip. They were basking in the sun after a few hours spent in the pool, only getting out once their hands were sufficiently pruny. Drops of water still prickled their skin, waiting for the hot summer sun to evaporate them. They idly sipped their beers, passing a joint between the two of them as they rambled on about pointless things. Steve didn't care how stupid their conversations would get, because he was stupid in love.

Eddie's long hair was still dripping , and the way it clung to his bare torso had no right being so sexy. He took a long drag, holding it out for Steve to take. When he didn't grab it from him, he glanced over to see what was taking him so long.

He looked over to see Steve with his eyes locked on him, mouth slightly agape. The sight was enough to make Eddie burst into giggles, releasing the smoke that had been trapped in his lungs.

He blinked himself out of it, taking the offered joint. "Hey man, what's so funny?" he asked, feeling as though he was left out of some great joke. He brought the tip to his lips, inhaling the spicy sweet smoke as he waited for an answer.

Eddie's giggles trailed off into a sigh. "You are, Harrington." Steve sputtered, which morphed into a cough as the smoke billowed out of his mouth.

"I wasn't even doing anything!" he protested, embarrassment creeping up inside his chest. Eddie sat up on the lounger to face him.

"Oh but you were. You were gawking at me." Steve's embarrassment only grew.

"I-I was not!" he defended weakly, knowing that he totally was.

"It's okay, it's actually kind of cute. But a picture'll last you longer. Oh, and next time, close your mouth dude. You'll swallow a fly like that," he teased, all dimples and dazzling smile. Steve's stomach did a flip and he looked away.

"Shut up. I was admiring your tattoos." It wasn't exactly a lie. Steve had found himself rather fixated on all of the ink adorning his body. Eddie couldn't stop the wide grin from spreading across his face. All sly and a little bit lopsided, teasing and a little shy all at once.

He circled around the spider tattoo near his neck with a single finger. "Why? You jealous or somethin'?" he teased, enjoying the way Steve could no longer meet his eyes. "'Cause I can get you in touch with my guy," he offered, taking the joint from Steve. He let the rolled cigarette dangle between his lips as he spoke. Steve swallowed thickly.

"No I-I'm good. I don't even know what I'd want. They look better on you anyways," he said, keeping his gaze on the ice blue water lapping at the edges of the pool. When he looked back up, Eddie was sitting on the edge of his lounger, leaning a little too far into his personal space. Steve jumped back in surprise, drawing forth a rumbling chuckle from Eddie's throat.

"Everyone looks good in ink babe. But I concur, I wear it well," he bragged, admiring the bats dotting his forearm. Eddie took another hit, blowing the smoke out slowly, directly in Steve's face. Despite the hot summer air, a chill ran down his spine. Eddie's face was so close to his. Steve was about to lean in and close the distance when Eddie continued speaking.

"Yeah I'm actually thinking of getting another one. Riiiight here," he slapped the center of his stomach. Steve was absolutely entranced by the way his hand rubbed over the skin before sliding off to the side. When Eddie caught him staring once more, he burst into giggles, hiding his smile behind a hand.

"You're ogling me again. Am I really that enticing?"

Steve blushed, muttering under his breath, "Maybe just a little."

Eddie tilted his head back, a loud, joyous laugh escaping his lips.

"What're you planning to get there?" he asked in hopes of changing the subject. It seemed to work when Eddie handed him the joint, humming in thought.

"Probably something meaningful. All my other ones, I just got 'cause they looked cool. I want this one to be different."

"You really love your guitar right? That'd be pretty meaningful," Steve suggested. Eddie turned to face him, and looked at him as if he gifted him the world.

"She's my lifeline," he said, holding a hand over his heart. Steve's lips quirked into a proud smirk. "That would be perfect. Fuck dude, thank you."

Steve grinned at the ground, grabbing his beer. When he took a swig, he was smiling so much that his lips couldn't seal around the opening, and it dribbled down his chin. Eddie continued to ramble.

"I'm thinking she'd look great in like, a stained glass style, you know? Real biblical shit."

Steve's mouth worked faster than his brain, and before he knew what was happening- "Y-you want me to uh, sketch- sketch it out?" he managed to stutter.

Eddie cocked his head, perplexed yet clearly intrigued. "Oh? I wasn't aware you could draw. Have you been holding out on me Harrington?"

"I-I mean, I'm no Picasso but I took art in high school. It was an easy elective, and the teacher actually liked me, so like, I think I'm decent." He had always been shy when it came to sharing his artistic "talents," something Mrs. Shaffer had tried to break. But Steve liked Eddie. More importantly, he trusted Eddie. And he wanted to do something nice for him, and maybe even impress the metalhead.

"Well shit! Let me see what you can do!" he encouraged as Steve stood up to look for markers in the house. When he walked past him, he couldn't help but slap his ass in the way to the door. Steve let out an adorable yelp, arching away as his pace quickened. He was giggling when he turned around to look at Eddie. He smirked, forming his hand in a claw and growled. He relished in the way it made Steve turn bright pink.

Steve played it cool until he shut the door behind him. Then he was scrambling, searching his house top to bottom for decent art supplies, emerging with a large ziploc baggie full of markers and pens of every color. He opened the sliding glass door that lead to the pool, peaking his head out. When Eddie turned to look at him, he flashed a wide grin, shaking the bag of markers as he stepped the rest of the way outside.

"The tattoo shop is ready and open for business!" he proclaimed, sitting next to Eddie on the lounger. Eddie cocked his head with an amused grin, studying the art supplies.

"But you forgot the paper."

Steve rolled his eyes and waved him off. "Paper's for chumps. Tattoos go on the skin, right? So it makes sense to sketch it out on you." And I want nothing more than to touch you all over, he didn't add. "And you know, save the trees and shit." Right now, Steve didn't give a crap about those trees. He just needed a half baked excuse that wouldn't make him look suspicious.

Eddie eyed him up and down with a teasing, lopsided smirk. "Suuuure that's the only reason," he drawled. He shook his head in amusement, smacking his thighs in unison. "Well let's get to it. Unless you're all talk, big boy." He chuckled to himself as he leaned back on the lounger.

Steve waited for him to get comfortable before straddling his waist. He subconsciously bit his lip as he studied the expanse of Eddie's naked torso. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his still damp hair.

He rested his hand on his chin, fingers hiding the growing smirk on his face. "So uh, h-how big do you want it to be?" he asked, stuttering over his words. What could he say, it was an awkward question. And no matter how he worded it, he knew Eddie would take the innuendo and run with it. As predicted, he snorted in amusement.

"I don't know, you tell me?" he asked, shifting his hips as he stretched his arms above his head, pillowing his head on his hands. Steve swallowed thickly, fiddling with the markers to advert his eyes.

"I was thinking maybe something about this tall and yay big?" he asked, measuring out the dimensions on his stomach with his hands in a soft, almost karate chop manner. Eddie craned his neck to try and gauge how big the tattoo would actually look there.

"Uh yeah, that's pretty good. But don't make it too, I don't know, clunky," he ordered, scrunching up his nose.

Steve placed his hand on his hips sassily, snarking back, "It's not gonna be clunky. Just shut up and stay still." He grabbed a pen and began a rough sketch of the outline of Eddie's guitar. It was a distinct shape with unique points and edges, and Steve liked to think he could draw it from memory. And whatever mistakes he makes with the pen, well, that's what the markers are for.

The point of the pen met his skin and slowly scraped down the lower middle of his chest. He jolted underneath the contact, but Steve didn't seem to notice. The pen wasn't working.

"Hold on, the pen's not working. Weird, it worked in the house. Let me fix it," he said, shaking the pen upside down. He touched the pen tip to his tongue to wet the ink to help it along. To get it working on skin, you usually had to scribble over your palm first, so Steve began scribbling tiny circles on the bottom of his ribs. Eddie jolted underneath him and grabbed his wrist, barely containing a laugh.

"Jeez dude, just get another fucking pen," he scolded, but the wide grin on his face severely diminished the effect.

Steve nodded wordlessly, taken a little off guard. This time, he grabbed a fresh ballpoint pen and scribbled over his own palm to get it working on skin. "Alright, I think this one works," he mumbled, bending down to focus on sketching his soon-to-be masterpiece.

He began by drawing the neck of the guitar, starting just between where his ribcage met. Eddie's breath hitched as the pen drug down his torso. The pen didn't draw the best in long elegant strokes, instead forming an outline by way of messy, sketched lines. It was a rough draft and only the basis of Steve's true vision.

If only Eddie could keep still. Only a few seconds in, and he was twitching underneath every touch. His breath quickened as his chest would rise and fall, his nostrils flaring every once in a while, followed by the odd huff of laughter. When Steve began tracing the odd angles of the guitar, he felt the way Eddie endlessly shifted. At first he thought nothing of it, but the squirming never died down. In fact, he thought it was getting worse. He knit his brows together, looking up to meet Eddie's gaze.

What Steve saw, he almost didn't believe. He was leaning back against the lounger, eyes shining with mirth while he sported the biggest fucking grin he's ever seen. His lips twitched as the tip of the pen started trailing up the other side of his stomach. The gasp that slipped from Eddie's mouth had him on the edge of his seat, eager to hear more. Quiet snickers started slipping out to make their debut. For now however, he would play oblivious and continue his drawing.

When he finished the sketch outline, Eddie tried to sit up to see. Steve covered his eyes with a hand, chuckling as he shoved him back down. Eddie was giggling too, moving Steve's hand away.

"What gives man?"

"Nope, no sneak peaks, 'kay? I want it to be a surprise."

"Cool, I hate surprises," Eddie sassed with an unbelievably wide grin that Steve matched.

"No you don't, dude."

"You're right. I fuckin' love 'em!" He immediately dropped the facade when called out, chuckling softly. Steve had to stop himself from staring, wiping the absolutely smitten look from his face.

"Well then, I hope you love this one." He dug around in the marker bag until he found the one he was after. It was a Sharpie, they all were. Tattoos were permanent, so he used a permanent marker, duh.

He was using a dark purple Sharpie with a thick tip to trace the outline, creating bold borders against the pale skin of Eddie's stomach. Steve definitely heard the way his breath hitched, and saw the way his belly quivered beneath his gentle touch. Steve smirked and took his time, savoring every twitch and huff of laughter that slipped out. He couldn't help but tease him.

"Dude, you're squirming around like a worm on a hook," he teased with a shit eating grin. Eddie growled, covering his face with his hands.

"Shut up, just get ihit ohover with," he whined, using every ounce of willpower he had to stay still.

"You're gonna fuck up my line work, and I want it looking sharp," he playfully scolded. He was trying to trace over the pen sketch with a single, perfectly straight line. Eddie smirked, purposefully jerking his hips to try and mess him up. A stray line went off to the side, causing a giggle to slip out of his mouth. Steve stared in shock at his "ruined" masterpiece, his mouth gaping open.

"Oh great, look what you made me do," Steve lamented, gesturing wildly to the stray line. Eddie craned his neck to have a look and smirked.

"Mm I don't know, you're the one with the marker. Seems like it's your fault to me," he taunted with a shit eating grin. Steve's jaw dropped in shock before scoffing, looking away.

"Shut your trap Munson, now I gotta fix your mistake," he teased, poking right in the center of the guitar drawn on his stomach. Eddie squeaked and jerked up to fold in on himself, locking eyes with Steve.

He looked... far too amused to mean anything good. Eddie gulped when he saw the way he smirked and studied his bare chest.

"You ticklish or somethin'?" Steve asked, trying to hide his cheshire cat grin behind his hand. He was doing a terrible job.

"Pft, no. Me? Ticklish? No way," he lied, but the nervous quiver to his voice begged to differ.

"Okay cool, so you should have no problem staying still the whole time," he said, innocent as ever. Eddie knew he was fucked. He wanted to crawl out of his skin as he felt Steve flutter his fingers along his sides. A shudder shot through his body from the top of his spine all the way down to his toes. He was brought out of his thoughts when Steve spoke once more, "But first let me clean this up."

Eddie watched Steve lick his thumb, the movement downright sinful. He didn't have very long to appreciate the sight, because he began rubbing tight circles over the spot he had messed up on. He immediately burst into a giggle fit, wiggling beneath him in an attempt to get away. "Shihihit dohohon't doho thahahat! Just draw dahamnit!"

Steve chuckled along with him, licking his thumb again before rubbing out the rest of his mistake. There was still a dark smudge, but it would suffice for now. Eddie's laughter died down as he stared up at him with eyes that still sparkled with mirth.

"Eh I'll cover it up later," he said with a wave of his hand. "Now stay still," Steve winked, twirling the pen between his fingers with a flourish. Eddie grinned and flashed him the finger. Steve drew a fat line up his arm in retaliation.

Eddie chuckled and looked at the mark running up his arm. "Wow, your artistic skills are really shining through," he winked. Steve rolled his eyes, thumping his shoulder.

"Shut up man. It's actually starting to come together, if you can just stay still," he teased, going back to his drawing. Eddie's body tensed under the touch, his belly quivering slightly with the effort to hold in his laughter. As he giggled, he tried his hardest to remain still. He wasn't really doing a good job, but Steve appreciated the effort.

He finished up the outline of the guitar before drawing seemingly random lines dividing his drawing into smaller sections. The lines were quicker and would end abruptly before another one crossed its path, leaving Eddie is stitches.

"Whahahat thehe hehehell are you dohohoing?" he giggled, poorly fighting off the urge to swat his hands away. Instead he settled on rocking side to side as he grabbed fistfuls of his hair. Steve chuckled.

"You've seen stained glass, haven't you? It's divided into sections," he explained innocently. Eddie shook his head with a wide smile.

"You're ehevil. You're dohoing thihihis to torture mehe," he sassed. Steve bit the inside of his cheek to keep his goofy smile on check.

"Nah, that's just a perk." Eddie was left speechless at those words, but he didn't remain silent. His hands flapped uselessly at his sides, occasionally balling into fists to fight the urge to shove him away. Meanwhile, Steve was lost in space. The way Eddie was writhing beneath him, cackling without a care in the world, made his brain short circuit.

He moved on to the last, but (un)fortunately the lengthiest stage. He grabbed a fistful of markers in varying shades of reds, purples, and pinks, fanning them out on display for Eddie. He was still giggling softly as he inspected the array before him.

"This one first," he said, picking out a blood red marker. Steve put the others away for now, playfully smacking the top of his head with the chosen marker. "You might want to brace yourself," Steve said, adding a condescending wink. Eddie's brows furrowed.

"The hell's that supposed to mehehehean! Hehey wahahait!" he shrieked, immediately bursting into laughter. His voice kept climbing in pitch as rapid giggles bubbled up from his throat. He twisted side to side in a desperate attempt to escape the maddening sensation of Steve coloring on his skin.

He was quickly losing all composure. The way he bucked his hips and wrapped his hair around his face to hide had Steve licking his lips like a predator before a meal. He filled the small stretch of skin with color before moving to another angular shard of the larger picture. The sudden contact in a new location made Eddie jolt with a bout of surprised giggles.

"Steheheheve," he tried to scold, but it came out as more of a whine. Said man popped his head up to look at him, cocking his head innocently. He hummed to indicate he was listening, and Eddie wore an exasperated grin.

"Do you have any idea," he said between pants for breath, "What you're doing to me right now?" He looked up at him expectantly. He wasn't prepared for the impishly proud look on his face. Steve clicked his tongue, taking in every inch of his exposed chest and stomach.

"Yeah, I'm killing two birds with one stone," he said with a shrug, as if it were plain as day. "Obviously." He was so infuriating, Eddie could just slap him. Eddie could just kiss him.

A damp, soft point pressed into his skin, abruptly ejecting him from his thoughts. Tight, maddening circles danced over his skin, drawing forth sweet, hysterical laughter from slightly chapped lips. After he filled enough spaces with that color, he moved on to lighter shades. He colored in some sections close together, but still left large patches of skin yet to be inked. This process continued as Steve colored in the intricate tattoo, slowly but surely. He swapped out colors at random, creating a mosaic that stood out against pale skin.

Eddie's laugh bordered on hysterical, occasionally crossing that line when Steve focused his efforts on the center of his belly. For the time being, he was savoring every unique sound he was able to draw out of the metalhead. Fluttering his fingers against the skin would make him suck in a breath with a quick swear or two. Coloring in circles released shrill giggles and nervous pleading. And hard scribbles with the marker, back and forth, incited desperate thrashing and unrestrained laughter. And Steve was eating up every second of it.

He paused to give Eddie a moment to breathe, which he was grateful for. He squinted up at him, his nose still crinkled from the residual giggles that continued to trickle out. "Yohohou're such ahan ahahass."

"Now is that any way to thank someone who's almost done giving you a free tattoo?" Steve asked smugly, placing his hands on his hips.

"I paid with my suffering," he joked with a grin. "Wait, you said it's almost done?" he asked, trying to sit up to see the drawing covering his torso.

"Ah ah ah, I'm not finished yet," Steve chastised, preventing him from leaning up too far by placing a hand on his shoulder. Eddie tried to keep his rapid heartbeat in check as he was carefully shoved back down onto the lounger. Needless to say he was left speechless, his mouth dry. But that could just be the cottonmouth.

"Just get on with it Harrington," he ordered, barely biting back a smirk. Steve grinned as he squeezed Eddie's hips, just to keep him in check. He barked out a startled laugh, bucking weakly as shrill giggles and snorts peppered out.

"Yeah yeah hold your horses, I'm almost done," he deadpanned, but the wide smile plastered on his face hinted at his true amusement.

True to his word, Steve finished soon after. But completing his masterpiece meant that this would end. He'd have to roll off of Eddie, give him his space as he examines his handiwork. He wouldn't get to hear the endearingly shrill cackles or see the way his nose crinkled or eyes shined with unshed tears. Wouldn't get to see the wide, unabashed grin and hear thinly veiled threats and swears. He wasn't ready to give that up yet.

So he kept it up just a little while longer, coloring over patches that were complete and retracing already bold lines. Eddie grabbed his hair and wrapped it around his blushing face to hide. Steve felt his heart skip a beat at the sight, chuckling as he weakly bucked and twisted his hips.

"You colored thahahat ahalready asshole! Ihihi knohow you dihihid!" he protested through shrieky giggles. He tried to sit up to see the impromptu tattoo but collapsed back onto the lounger in a fit of laughter. Steve had ditched the marker and instead dove in with his hands, squeezing up and down his sides.

"I did, did I? Well, my apologies for being thorough," he teased, unable to help himself as he shot him a wink. "Let me just make sure it's finished drying," he said innocently. Eddie's heart beat against his ribcage as he saw Steve's head dip towards his belly. He gasped, falling into a deep stream of helpless chuckles and getting washed away down stream. Steve blew cool, gentle air over the inked skin, taking note of every single goosebump he left in his wake.

Eddie's chest bounced up and down as his laughter toned down to a simmer. Steve kept poking and drumming his fingers on his rainbow skin, "checking" to see if the marker was "dry." He flinched and barked out a laugh each time until Steve withdrew his hand. He sat at the foot of the plastic recliner, looking at him with a satisfied grin.

"My torture better have been worth it," he smirked, sitting up on his elbows. His eyes sparkled with mirth, cheeks still rosy and smile still firmly in place.

"It is. Why don't you come see for yourself?" Steve offered, holding out a hand for him to take. Eddie hesitated, eyeing the other man with an amused yet skeptical look.

"Alright. I've waited long enough, figure it's about time to see what you churned out," he taunted, grabbing Steve's hand to hoist himself up. He inspected himself, or as much as he could from this angle, and gave an approving nod. "Not bad, Harrington. But the true test is how it looks in a mirror."

"Uh, yes. Of course. The mirror test, everyone knows that," Steve tried to casually go along with it, but it was clear he wasn't sure what he was talking about. It was incredibly endearing. "Right this way."

He lead Eddie through the empty halls of his house quietly until they reached the master bathroom. Eddie walked up to his reflection, not saying a word. Steve's eyes kept flitting away before drifting back nervously.

Eddie studied himself in the mirror, hands roaming over his bare torso. "It's beautiful," he breathed out as if it were one word. And it really was. The guitar's shape was stylized even sharper than it really was, stretching over the expanse of his stomach. The instrument was pieced together with jagged shards of multicolored glass, all surrounded in an angelic yellow glow.

Steve's heart leapt into his throat. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. You made her look like. I don't know, like how I see her," Eddie said, avoiding meeting Steve's eyes in the reflection. He twirled a lock of hair in front of his face to hide his shy grin. "It really means a lot. Even if you did enjoy every second of my torment," he teased despite his own blush. Steve was left gawking as he floundered for a comeback.

"W-well, I- oh come it was hilarious. You would've done the exact same thing," he justified. Eddie's smile morphed into a more dangerous one, his eyebrows shooting up to the middle of his forehead.

"Pretty bold assumption. Not wrong though," he chuckled, shaking his head. He took a step away from the mirror, turning to face Steve.

His lips twitched in an anxious smirk as he took a step back. Eddie closed the distance, grabbing the draw string of his swim trunks to pull him closer.

Steve's whole body went tense as he leaned in to whisper, "So... how 'bout I return the favor?"

#commission #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steveddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #stranger things tickle fic #ticklish!eddie #ticklish!eddie munson #tattoo fic #i am also hopping on this bandwagon

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infrequent-creator · 2 years

Text

Just a ticklish metalhead, nothing to see 🙈

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hypahticklish · 1 year

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Mad Max and the Week Long Tickle War: Day Six

Summary: Where Steve seeks vengeance on Eddie, and gets a little help of his own. A collaborative project with @nhasablogg and @lesbian-byers Fandom/Characters: Stranger Things / Steve & Eddie (pre-slash), feat. Max Wordcount: 2k ish A/N: …I had to rip the narrative out of Eddie's nerdy metalhead hands before he ran away with it… and then I did instead. Anyway, fun fact: the album mentioned was basically a set of lullabies for baby me and was my favorite growing up…that it also lines up to be the most recent release prior to ST4 is such a wild coincidence 😅 ← What happened yesterday?

~~~

"Alright, Harrington," he said as they shuffled off their jackets in the living room. "Today we're continuing your education into Real Music."

"Goody me," Steve grumbled. The sound didn't match the fondness in his eyes.

It was Steve's turn to hang out at Eddie's. Last time it was just the two of them, they had gone back to his place at Eddie's insistence - more space, more privacy, heated pool - and he didn't hear the end of the rich boy commentary while he indulged in whatever Steve's folks kept in the house. Eddie said his uncle rarely was at the trailer between work and the bar, but the tape deck and cassette collection must have been his true motive. Not that any of that mattered to Steve; if Eddie could spark light to whatever room he was in, then his home was the breath of life in and of itself.

Eddie swaggered backward down the short hall. "You've got your pick between my two greatest loves: Iron Maiden or Metallica."

"However shall I choose between US long-hair band and UK long-hair band?"

"You should be groveling at my feet for the opportunity to be guided to Valhalla by yours truly!" said Eddie with all the indignation of a fussy tomcat.

Steve threw up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, let's go with Iron Maiden."

"Newest or oldest?"

"Uhh, newest?" Steve chuckled at Eddie's quick change to a cheshire cat smile and took a seat on his bed.

The usual cold weather in Hawkins was interrupted by unseasonable sunshine and borderline warm temperatures if it weren't for winter's breath on the breeze; a phenomenon so delightful that most of the windows in the town were left wide open. Steve could not be more grateful to have the day off from work to spend getting to know Eddie better.

And to test what Dustin had mentioned off the cuff yesterday.

"You are a lucky boy, Stevie, because I have, in my possession, the Live After Death tour on cassette." Eddie presented him with the small plastic box case as if it were a sword. "The single best heavy metal tour of all time."

Steve swallowed the butterfly shaped lump in his throat at the nickname and instead raised an eyebrow. "M'okay?"

The speakers crackled to life in what Steve could swear was a World War Two broadcast before a hair-raising guitar solo kicked off the album. Eddie dove onto the bed beside him, leaned forward, and yanked back on Steve's shoulders to pull him down. "Lay back, relax, and get ready to have your life changed," Eddie said, scooping his curly hair up from behind his back.

Everyone who took the time knew the man relished in having an audience. Amidst some rather boisterous bouncing early on, Steve had turned onto his side to watch Eddie's performance. It was bad enough that Steve was still figuring out the knot worrying in his stomach when Eddie was around, but laying in Eddie's small bed with Eddie's bicep pressed to his chest, and Eddie's knee knocking into his, while Eddie passionately sang along to songs he had clearly developed his own choreography to when he wasn't playing air guitar, was driving it home to Steve that he may have something down bad for Eddie. He could not help but be mesmerized.

Thirteen and a half minutes after Eddie announced it was the last track of side one ("It's an epic poem, pretty boy, now shh!") the tape deck clicked. Only the music of rustling leaves and wind chimes outside remained. Eddie was pink cheeked, wide grinned, catching his breath with his limbs akimbo. "Fuckin' amazing, right?" he asked earnestly.

Steve smirked to himself. "Yeah, think it's growin' on me." Eddie punched the air and threw his arms back over his head. His well-worn 'Rush' shirt lifted from his low-slung jeans, revealing a triangle strip of healed scars across his abdomen. Steve nonchalantly cracked his knuckles and looked out the window to focus on anything else.

Eddie sighed contentedly, and then with a twinge of impatience said, "Alright, mind flippin' the cassette already?"

"What?"

"Well A) you're closer and B) you're closer. Soooo let's goooo!"

Steve's brows knit together but once he saw the impish glee smeared across Eddie's face, he sat up with Dustin's words echoing in his mind. "And here I thought you were one of the smart ones." He barreled past the scoff and pressed a hand to Eddie's sternum to keep him down. "No no, don't get up, I'll get it. Matter of fact, why don't you stay right here."

His big, brown eyes blinked into a squint. "Fine by me."

Steve got up and made a show of popping out the tape, turning it over, and replacing it. He ghosted his finger over the play button.

And then Steve was on his knees, looming over Eddie, ghosting his fingers along his exposed stomach. Eddie's hands jumped to catch him but Steve smacked them away. "Ah-ah. Don't move. You didn't wanna get up, remember?"

A fraction of hesitation, then, "No problem-o. I am at peak relaxation." Eddie tucked his hands underneath his bushy hair. His right leg began to bounce.

"Sure thing, Thumper, now hold still."

Having spent the past few weeks with Eddie, Steve learned he was a very touchy-feely dude; constantly hanging off his friends and clapping his large hands to their shoulders or knees. Eddie would dramatically wrestle with the brats and snuggle into whoever chose to be beside him. And yeah, sometimes those touches did turn to tickling the utter daylights out of whoever held his attention for the moment. He also knew that Eddie was easily provoked and startled, meaning that any retaliation attempts often turned him into a hyper maniac. Steve was banking on Eddie's stubborn ego to keep the tides from turning against him and having a repeat of last night.

(The swoosh in his chest at that thought was a problem for future Steve to analyze.)

Steve touched barely wiggling fingertips to the skin at the edge of Eddie's pantline and was immediately rewarded with goofy giggles. "Wow, really?" Steve laughed. "That's pathetic, Munson."

"F-fuck off!" His leg bouncing got worse.

"I struck gold without even trying," Steve joked. He walked his slow spider to the nearest shiny mauve bite mark. "Thought you'd put up a bigger fight."

"Shit shit shit!" Eddie's body jerked around the torrent of squeaky laughter slipping through his toothy smile. His hands scrambled up to clutch the edge of the mattress on both sides of his head and erected a tent between his elbows to hide in.

"Aw, well now that's adorable." Steve skittered near the jut of his hip bones up under his shirt toward his waist. Eddie's feet drummed into the bed as a plethora of snorts and swears broke apart his giggles. "You talk a big game for someone so ticklish it's silly. Imagine if I was trying to get revenge on ya."

Eddie's neck and cheeks turned from pink to red. "You-you just gonna be a-a-a fuckin tease about it, huh?" He sucked in his stomach and squirmed away from Steve's fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Steve mocked. He tucked his body defensively, stiffened his hands into claws and vibrated them into Eddie's abdominal muscles. "Is this better?" He had to shout over the unhinged, shrieking laughter shaking the walls of the trailer.

Eddie's hands gripped his shoulders. His feet dug into the bed. Both vain attempts to push and buck Steve off from his stable wrestling position and the seismic fingers drifted toward his lower stomach. When those attempts to dislodge failed, Eddie tried to curl around Steve's instead.

"Rookie mistake, Munson!"

A loud, wet noise ripped from Eddie's unprotected side. "Wh-WHAT-oh jesus fucking CHRIST! Are you TWELVE?!" Another raspberry to his hip sent him cackling hysterically.

The front door to the trailer opened and closed loudly, followed by rapid stomps in their direction. Steve scrambled to his feet, wiping his mouth on his henley sleeve. The anxious breath caught in his chest released when he saw a serious looking Max enter the doorframe. "Oh good, it's just you…what are you doin' here?"

"Dudes, the whole neighborhood could hear someone screaming," said Max, relaxing into a smirk. They both looked at the panting, sprawled out puddle that was Edward Munson before meeting each other's gaze again.

"So you ran toward it?" Steve asked. Max shared a soft, albeit secretive, expression of familiarity with Eddie and shrugged. "We have got to work on all your kids' self preservation skills." Dustin's friends had a unique gift of making Steve incredibly tired.

"Well," Steve turned to Eddie, hooked his hand behind the crook of his knees and gave a sharp tug to pull him down the bed, "wanna be an accomplice to murder instead of a witness?"

"Yeah, sure."

The giggles had already ensnared Eddie in response to being manhandled. "Fuck off - no, you stay out of this, Red!" His arms glued to his side and fists balled to his chest.

Max clambered on top of Eddie as though it were second nature and peered down at the bundle of sparkly nerves beneath her. "And if I don't?" She took a moment to move Eddie's hair from where it could accidentally be pulled and away from his blush coated neck. Eddie made a competitive growling noise in the back of his throat.

"You two get on like a kitchen fire," Steve commented as he lounged across Eddie's lap. "Bubbling oil," he tripped his fingers up the center of Eddie's quivering stomach. "And cool water." Steve chuckled at the irked expression that crossed Max's face and kept the sibling rivalry observations to himself.

"For fucksakes, get off, you guys are heavy," Eddie grunted with an exaggerated show of effort. His feet flopped, first as a joke and second more frantic in the realization that he was unable to find the mattress to kick off from and gain leverage. "Oh shit."

"What's the matter?" Max asked with a saccharine lilt Steve only heard when she was challenging the boys into doing something exceptionally stupid.

Eddie was twitching, and maybe hissing?, until he was practically vibrating. In fact, this was perhaps the quietest Steve had ever heard Eddie be since he's known of him. Max, however, was snickering with the same sort of delighted mischief he'd heard Robin use at work when stacking Red Vine boxes precariously tall. She was hunched over and quickly extending and retracting T-Rex arms toward Eddie's neck, ears and chin.

It was when Steve casually wrapped his hand just above Eddie's knee that his resolve broke. "Wait - shit, don't! Steve-MAX!"

Laughter filled the room like spun sugar at the county fair; imperceptible at first but quickly growing in beauty and volume until all you want is to indulge in the fleeting sweetness of it. Eddie jumped at each of Steve's soft knee squeezes and craned his head away from Max's fluttering nails at his throat and squirmed futilely from Steve marching his fingers back and forth between his hips. Between their dedication to tenderness and the afternoon sun catching the dust motes swirling over Eddie's head, Steve felt he and Max had come to an unspoken decision to prolong this moment for as long as they could get away with.

A few minutes after they had slid off him, Steve helped him sit up against the wall while Max went to grab some sodas out of Eddie's fridge. "You okay, chuckle chops?" Steve asked.

"From the bottom of my heart, fuck you."

"How sweet," Max said, passing out drinks and taking a seat next to Eddie.

"Oh, don't think you're getting out of this." Eddie gulped from the can greedily and, consequently, belched in a way that made Max's face screw up in disgust. "And you called me evil, Harrington."

Steve didn't even try to stop the small swell of pride or the sideways grin. Instead, he just pressed play on the tape deck.

#stranger things #stranger things tickling #ticklish!eddie munson #Project: MMatWLTW #tickle fic #tickling #lee!eddie munson #mine

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august-anon · 2 years

Text

Ticklish Tattoos

Tickletober 2022, Day 14: Tracing

This is so disorganized and choppy but i literally just wrote it so its what is getting posted lol

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Fandom: Stranger Things

Ship(s): Steddie

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Eddie/Ler!Steve

Word Count: 618 words

Summary: Steve likes tracing Eddie's tattoos. Problem is, Eddie's a bit sensitive.

[ao3 link]

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

The habit had started up before they even started dating, Steve’s fingers absent-mindedly tracing over the ink in Eddie’s skin. Sometimes while they were in a group, tucked away in the Wheeler’s basement or the Byler-Hopper’s living room or even Steve’s house, but most often when they were alone. For a while, Eddie wasn’t even sure if Steve was aware of the fact that he was doing it. He seemed like the type to fidget, kind of like Eddie himself, just in a quieter way.

But in any case, Eddie certainly didn’t care. Having his crush’s hands, once the hottest guy in Hawkins (still was, in Eddie’s opinion), all over him? Sign Eddie up. And, in a more serious sense, it was kind of comforting. All of the little touches he got from this oddball group were – they seemed to survive on the connection, verifying that everyone was okay, that they were still warm and alive, that there was still blood rushing around underneath that skin – but Steve’s touch got that static under Eddie’s skin to relax in a way that the others’ didn’t.

Not that Eddie would ever fucking say any of this out loud.

But the part that Eddie would really never mention, under pain of death, was that sometimes Steve’s fingers tickled like hell. Not that Eddie was complaining about that fact, but it was embarrassing, and it was even more embarrassing that he didn’t mind it. So Steve didn’t know, and if Eddie had his way, Steve never would.

And that worked out, up until they started dating.

Freshly showered, Eddie made his way down the too-long halls in Steve’s too-long house until he reached Steve’s bedroom. Eddie rolled his eyes as Steve greeted him with a wolf-whistle and a wide smirk to match.

“What, I can’t appreciate my boyfriend?” Steve said.

Eddie scoffed, resisting the urge to cross his arms over his bare chest. He knew it was a bad idea to make his way back in here in just a pair of sweatpants, but he had forgotten his sleep shirt in his bag when he’d gone to shower. He moved to go grab it, but was stopped by a long, pitiful whine from the bed. God, and people called Eddie a drama queen.

Eddie turned to raise an eyebrow at Steve, finding him already pouting and making grabby-hands in Eddie’s direction. “Come on, you don’t need it. Come here. I wanna see your tattoos.”

And that was the beginning of the end. Because while Eddie was able to hide his reactions when Steve was tracing around the ink on his arms, it was a whole different story when Steve started tracing the tattoos on his chest and torso. He’d never been very good at suppressing it, Steve noticing the way his nose scrunched up almost instantly.

“Ticklish?” Steve asked.

Eddie pursed his lips around his smile. “Maybe.” He tensed, expecting a full-blown attack, but Steve just kept his steady pace tracing the tattoo on Eddie’s chest.

Steve hummed, a smug little smile making its way onto his face. “Good to know. That’s useful information.”

Eddie opened his mouth to sass back, not even sure what he was going to say, but wound up choking on a giggle as Steve moved down to his side, tracing around one of his newer tattoos, helping to cover the scars from the demobat attack.

Steve chuckled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Very ticklish, apparently.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Eddie replied, though it wasn’t very effective when he was stuck squirming and giggling from such a gentle touch.

He couldn’t help but wonder just how bad it would be when Steve finally got him for real.

#augtickletober2022 #tickletober #tickletober 2022 #tickle fic #my writing #stranger things tickling #lee!eddie munson #ler!steve #ticklish!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steveddie

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sugars-fluffy-escapes · 2 years

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ok ok, BUT but BUT BUT BUT Eddie getting a lee mood as u describe ur dnd character wrecking Eddie’s npc for interrogation 😳

🫢😈 ANON I'M ON DEMON TIME NOW ISTG SGAHDHSJDJDJ- And I wanna say thank you to two tumblr moots for helping me make these hcs happen while I'm still familiarizing myself with D&D 🥹 Hcs under the cut!

Eddie's such a smug little shit at first. Big bad DM thinking he's successfully gotten under your skin with an irritating npc who's refusing to answer any of your questions. But then...

"It appears that the only living soul who carries the information you seek is not willing to reveal said information to you. (Character's name here), what would you like to do?"

"I'm going to ask him if he's ticklish."

Eddie's going to short circuit and you can see his body language grow more tense. He will try anything to keep this from happening because of all places for you to throw him into a lee mood, it's during the club meeting??? (Not that he minds though 🥴) No matter what tactics he tries to use, you've always got a tactic of your own to continue throwing him off.

Is he making the NPC lie? Insight check time. You'll see the blush creeping up on his face when you roll. Eddie has different answers depending on what the outcome of the roll was, but even then, you're just as stubborn as he is and you're gonna tickle the npc anyway even if the roll was unsuccessful. You tell him as much.

^ What he looks like when you two are in a verbal joust over this friggin interrogation tactic of yours. He's very stubborn, but so are you. You are going to roll for every advantage you possibly can and the entire time you're arguing with this friggin DM, he's growing more squirrelly and squirmy. The rest of the club is so done with both of you LMFAO 😭 /lh

You came to this meeting prepared, lemme tell you AHJSJSJRJR. Whether your character can perform and has prepared the "enhance ability spell" or if any of your fellow club members can, ohhh boi. Edward Munson isn't ready. If you use "hex," wiggle your fingers in his direction and watch him squirm 🫢

Tickle checks somehow end up becoming a thing after Eddie spends some time racking his brain over how "tickle checks" would even frickin happen. He's gonna make it difficult and will act like a smartass about what you'll need to roll for.

^ This smugness fizzles away real fast 🥴

Alas, your stubbornness wins and Eddie's efforts are futile and the npc gets tickled. He doesn't want to put actual effort into the voice acting because he's flustered to hell and he'll be damned if he lets you win. The rest of the club ain't letting that slide though.

"Eddie! You have no problem getting theatrical with the fucking voices any other time! Commit to the character, dammit!"

"Yeah, Eddie. Do I actually have to tickle you just to really sell it~?"

"N-Not one fucking step closer, you absolute fucking heathen!"

^ I am convinced Edward Munson uses words like "scoundrel" and "heathen" because he is a nerd <3

If you do end up tickling him while y'all are playing, it's likely going to be after you've rolled a crit hit, and you exclaim as much before pouncing on him and next thing you know the damn DM's on the floor flailing like a fish and screech-cackling. He knows better than to ask the other club members to save him. You think they'd skip on an opportunity to knock the DM off of his high horse? Give one of your fellow club members the "help" action and wreck this adorable little shit with tickles 👏🏾

If you don't end up tickling him and making him sink from his chair onto the floor during the actual game, he's absolutely gonna be in a lee mood still and will find a not-so-subtle way to provoke you into finally tickling him after the club's done playing for the night. Probably via telling you that your character's getting shown no mercy the next time y'all continue the campaign. Or, he's so annoyed and salty that you didn't actually tickle him so when the club meeting is done, he insists you actually do so because:

"You had the fucking nerve to say all that tickle shit in the middle of the campaign and now you're not gonna do it!?"

^ Bby just wants tickles now 🥺 👉🏾👈🏾 Indulge the poor lad LMFAOOO /lh

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anon, this concept is ✨IMMACULATE✨ Thank you so so much for sending this in 🥹💖 /gen /pos /pla

I hope you enjoyed reading!

~ Ushu 🤍 (/p)

#sugar-answers #sugar-rambles #amazing-headcanon-submissions #sfw tickle blog #tickle hcs #ler!reader #lee!eddie munson #ticklish!eddie munson

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hyper-pie · 2 years

Text

Don't tickle the tickle monster pt¹

Characters: Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson

Pairings Eddie/Robin (platonic)

Implied steddie

Hurt comfort

Description: Robin and Steve get into a big fight and Steve said something regarding Eddie and she breaks so robin confides in Eddie for comfort and Eddie knows just the thing to cheer her up but she has to make things worst by fighting back

I am following HEADCANNONs of the other people's in the tickle community Pluss some of my own

Lee/ler Eddie and Robin. robin with a small ler! part cause I prefer her as a lee and Eddie as a ler

Warnings: tickles, mentions of smoking and cigarettes, possibly some alcohol mentions, INTENSE TEASING

Mentions: @thatcheesyler @kittenwhiskers

The night was quiet though the metal music in the background said otherwise. Eddie Munson lay there, smoking a joint peacefully, his uncle being away on a trip for the next few days meant that all he had to do was relax.

Though the peace was soon broken by the soft tap on the door. Normally Eddie would be confused about who would be at his trailer that late but he knew exactly who said person would be when he opened the door he felt a pair of arms instantly rap around his middle, then looking down and seeing a sobbing robin burrying her face into his stomach. Knowing how fragile she would would be he gently scooped her up closing and locking the door the trailer giving her a reassuring hug, running his fingers through her hair,.softly hushing her until she stopped crying.

After a short while robin had finnaly stopped crying but was very much still clinging to a very confused but comforting Eddie.

"what's got you so down Buckley?." He asks with a soft expression"S-steve *sniffle sniffle* he says that I am way to touchy and clingy and I just need to stop for a second and I can't stop and I told him I can't control it and when I started crying he made fun of me for always going to you for support c-cus he is y-your boyfriend in all and I should go to a girl... I-I mean he realised he went to far and appologised but it still hurts and-" "Hey hey hey hey Buckley Buckley look at me okay?" He said in a stern but comforting tone getting robin the shush and look up at him "you know he can be a dick sometimes but that wasn't okay and I am glad he knows it but I am here for you and you can confine one me in me anytime you need help okay Buckley?" Heasitant Robin nodded her head silent the whole situation being so much for her to process. "Well... You know what?" "What Is it Munson?" Asked Robin softly, starting to recover. A smirk forms on eddies face making robins eyes widen. "E-eddie? I-is everything okAHAHAHACK! EHEHEHDDIE" she squeels as Eddie waists no time in clawing at her oh so ticklish sides and ribs. "Ohoho wow you are sooo ticklish.. Good thing for me cuzz I am the one and only TICKLE MONSTER!! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!" His dramatic antics putting a smile on robins face as she continues to try and dodge his oh so skilled fingers now squeezing up and down her sides. "LAUGH FOR ME MORTA-AHAHAHAHAK" he squeeled as robin moves to start tickling up and down Eddie's ribs giving an evil smirk. As she moves toward his stomach she feels her hands being trapped, then squeeling as he scooped her up carrying her to his bed laying the in shock robin on his bed as he moved to straddle her hips pinning her arms down on either side of her.

After processing robin realised how much trouble with would now be in and her eyes widened. "E-eddie is mercy an option?" She asked sheepishly as Eddie chuckled cracking his fingers almost as if warming then up "oh.. now you ask for Mercy? A bit too late for that sweetheart... You should know to NEVER EVER tickle the tickle monster.. now that you know you shall face the wrath that is Eddie the great! Master of tickling! Get ready Buckley cause you dug your grave real deep~"

AN: hey guys I just wanted to say thank you for the asks and thank you to the person who requested this! I hope you enjoy and I haven't said this lots but while likes are appreciated reblogs will help the blog out okay enough of my rambling I will get part two done at one point if y'all want that!! (Ok can I just say this is my first stranger things tickle fic and I am so bleeping proud... Like damn)

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things tickle #lee! robin #robin buckley stranger things #lee Robin #ticklish! Robin #ticklish!eddie munson #ticklish!Robin buckley #ler!eddie munson #ler!robin #hurt/comfort #Stranger things hurt/comfort #comfort tickles #playfull tickles

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nhasablogg · 2 years

Note

I can see Eddie having really ticklish ribs, and maybe Steve decides to count them because Eddie won’t stop annoying Steve. 💖

Words: 500 ish

“So how many ribs do humans have again?”

“You know I failed biology.”

“Is it biology though?” Steve asked, tracing the skin over Eddie’s ribs. “I’d say it’s more chemistry, seeing how much of a reaction me touching you has.”

“Oh, shut up.” But Eddie was blushing and it was filling Steve with such joy that he had to drag it out a bit.

“I wonder if each rib gives off a different reaction.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean that this one-” He tapped at the general area of Eddie’s lower ribs. “-makes you tense up. And this-” Another tap, slightly above it. “-makes you hitch your breath. Interesting, isn’t it?”

“Since when are you a scientist?” Eddie muttered, eyes not meeting Steve’s.

“Since you decided to be this ticklish, pretty boy.”

The afternoon sun hit Eddie’s face just right, and Steve relished in the way he flushed beneath the rays, hands still not moving to stop him or shove him off even though Steve barely got him pinned. Their bodies radiated laziness, although Steve knew neither of them were as relaxed as they pretended to be. Still too new at this, still too aware of each movement. Eddie keeping his arms behind his head was optional. Steve having draped himself over his waist was calculated, though the ticklishness had been a happy surprise.

“I wonder what rib will make you laugh,” he said, slowly counting up Eddie’s ribcage. “I wonder which one will make you stop me.”

Eddie licked his lips, a small smile playing over them, waiting to grow. “I’m afraid I don’t have that information.”

“Oh, so I have to do all the work here then?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I don’t mind.”

Steve kept walking two fingers upward, stopping briefly to tickle each rib and Eddie was finally laughing now, his body twitching away from the touch and his arms remaining raised, although only the fingertips were buried in his hair now, one touch too ticklish before they would snap down.

“I think I found your giggle rib,” Steve said, and maybe it was the teasing or the way Steve could tell he was grinning that made Eddie give in, but either way a hand finally found Steve’s wrist, although he wasn’t being pushed off just yet.

“You’re so mean,” Eddie choked out, eyes scrunched up, head thrown back, the absolute perfect depiction of giddy joy. If Steve wasn’t already kissing this man daily he would be now.

“I thought you enjoyed exploring,” Steve said, reaching the top of Eddie’s ribcage. “This is exploring.”

Eddie’s laughter rose in pitch, his other hand came flying down and nearly hitting Steve in the face, and Steve had to hold on for dear life lest he wanted to be thrown off the bed.

“Woah, woah, I’m stopping, I’m stopping,” he laughed, melting onto Eddie’s belly while Eddie himself melted into the mattress.

“I think you found my escape right fucking now rib,” Eddie said sheepishly, and all Steve could do was kiss him (and then his ribs, which Eddie allowed although he was laughing the entire time).

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #ticklish!eddie munson #n writes #ask

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mimixmunson · 4 days

Note

okay i’m rlly sorry it’s not a prompt but i would love to hear more of your general thoughts on knismo!eddie <3 bc yeah it’s canon basically

oh babie i can talk about this all day!!

Knismo!Eddie my beloved<3

I did these as headcanons I hope that’s okie!

He’s a switch imo, at least that’s how I see him!! I don’t think he leans either way, a solid 50/50 switch.

He’s a fucking terrifying (in a good way obviously!!) ler. I can imagine this mf and his verbal teasing but in his DM voice? Or using dnd as a game in order to tickle you. Like “here roll the D20 and if its an odd number you get tickled, if its an even number I get to tickle you” and you’re so flustered you don’t even realise it’s lose/lose choice for you.

He’s definitely ticklish. I think his worst spots (like most people think) would be his hips. I mean look at that man’s waist. Also his tummy? He’s such a “I’m a grown man look at me I’m tattooed and I smoke drugs and drink I’m not ticklish” mf. But yet when Steve blows a raspberry on his tummy he becomes mush and doesn’t even push him off him (when he definitely can.)

He’s a kicker!! Flails around and screeches!!

100% includes the tickle monster in his dnd campaign, and if you get killed? You’re getting tickled in real life too.

He can only say the word tickle if he’s in a ler mood, if he’s in a lee mood? Absolutely no chance. He’d sooner throw away his guitar.

Certified neck biter™️

Uses his hair to tickle people, like holding a few strands in his fingers and swiping them across their necks/under their chins.

His fingers are fast and calloused bc he plays guitar.

“Stay still let me practice this song!!” As he pretends you’re his guitar.

Bite bite bites you

Loves hates when people sneak up behind him and squeeze his sides and he squeals when it happens.

“Sure I’ll stop tickling you, but you gotta say I’m a rock god.”

If he knows one of his friends is ticklish, he’ll tell them and show them how their friend reacts, just to add a little chaos.

Giggly little baby!!

Will slide his feet into someone’s lap when they’re watching a movie and act like he isn’t begging to be tickled. Be nice to him that boy is touch starved.

His brain will short circuit if he’s asked if he’s ticklish, he has no idea to respond. People don’t expect him to be ticklish bc he’s “scary looking” (obviously he’s not. He’s just a baby!!!)

Sometimes when he’s a tickling someone a little roughly, you can feel his rings and those things are cold.

He’s so easily flustered, especially if he hears the word tickle in public and he’s not expecting it. His ears burn when he hears it.

Blushing!! When!! He’s!! Pinned!! Down!!

Rips holes in his shirts in hopes that someone will wiggle a finger inside them!

Stretches so obnoxiously in hope someone tickles him.

Wayne used to play fight with him when he was a kid, purely bc he needed to tire that adhd ridden boy out before he sent him to bed. He used to tickle him a lot to wear him out!!

When he’s been wrecked™️ he smiles for hours afterwards, until his cheeks ache.

Thank you SO much for this ask!! As a knismo myself, my brain melted a little bit reading this ask and writing these!! Mwah. Have a great day, love ya <3

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tickle-bugs · 2 years

Text

I’m So Down

Summary: Steve picks up Robin’s doodling habit and shares it with Eddie. Pretty soon, they become each other’s favorite canvases. Loose sequel to Summer Lovin’ but set a while after. (Once again reminding everyone that I have seen ZERO episodes of stranger things and am therefore not liable for ooc content thank u enjoy)

Word count: 4.4k + author’s note at the end!

“You’re staring, Harrington.” Eddie grins. “A picture will last you longer.”

“Maybe I just like staring at you,” Steve fires back, a dorky smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” Eddie presses a dramatic hand to his heart and flutters his lashes.

“Nah. Just the pretty ones.” Steve kisses the corner of his mouth. Eddie’s quietly stunned for a moment, and it’s always a win to see him even a little flustered.

“Be still, my beating heart.” Eddie shifts his arm off the back of the couch and drops it properly across Steve’s shoulders. He plays with the ends of Steve’s hair and finally pulls his eyes back to the TV. Steve indulges himself in more staring.

Eddie’s…nice. That’s an oversimplification—he’s nice to look at, to be around, to feel and enjoy. If the relief of a cool breeze, the fizz of fresh pop, and the glittering joy of sparklers could be bottled into a person, Eddie’s it. But, like, if the bottle were spiky and leather and metal as hell. Steve’s still learning about what does or doesn’t define something as metal, but he feels pretty good about this one.

Of course Eddie’s metal. Of course he is. It’s not a question. Everything that they’ve been through both together and apart is all the evidence necessary. But in these moments where he isn’t, where Steve’s curled into his side and they’re sharing a blanket that’s fraying with love at the edges, Eddie’s gentle and tender and humming under his breath. His black-polished fingers pluck at Steve’s bicep like the fretboard of his guitar. An ostensibly metal package for beautiful contents. Pretty.

“Now you’re ogling.” Eddie rolls his head to the side and raises his eyebrows suggestively. He runs his tongue along his canines idly. It shouldn’t be as distracting as it is.

“Your tattoos.” Steve dips his head in acknowledgment.

“What about ‘em?” Eddie shifts to better face him.

“They’re nice. They suit you.” Steve brushes his fingers over the bats on Eddie’s forearm. Eddie rolls over onto his stomach and props his chin in his hands, kicking his legs like a girl at a sleepover, and Steve can’t help but smile.

“Well, don’t stop there. Flattery is smiled upon.” Eddie army-crawls across the couch until he can lean up into Steve’s personal space. His nose crinkles around his teasing grin.

“Stop,” Steve laughs, clasping a hand around Eddie’s face like a catcher’s glove and pushing him back. Eddie, of course, responds with dignity and grace—he licks Steve’s hand.

“Dude, ew!” Steve wipes his palm on his jeans. Eddie makes his little devil face and hisses, but the sound falls apart into a sparkling laugh before he can finish. He rolls over and deposits his head into Steve’s lap, folding his arms behind his head.

The ambient crackle of the TV filters back in, busted speakers relaying maybe 70% of The Goonies as it plays. It’s better than nothing, though—Eddie loves this movie. He shakes both their bodies with his laughter, as if everything is bright and novel.

“What did it feel like to get these?” Steve’s fingers wander Eddie’s arms, poking at the tattoos he can reach. Robin’s been bugging Steve about inking him ever since she figured out how to stick and poke. She draws on him a lot while they talk sometimes, like a fidget or a stim, and the urge must have surpassed temporary art. Eddie’s got a couple of these too—they’re thinner and a little shakier than his professional ones. The small triangle inked between Eddie’s fingers pulls tight on his heartstrings. He’d never noticed it.

“Like needles in my skin. What’s gotten into you, Harrington?” Eddie pushes himself up on his elbows. His hair falls away from his shoulders, revealing the gentle curve of his neck to the light.

“Can I give you one?” Steve gets it now. The doodling thing. He’s never been much of an artist but there’s a perfect spot on Eddie’s neck that he fixates on. He’s honestly surprised doesn’t have ink there already.

“Elaborate.” Eddie squishes Steve’s face and pulls it down towards him. Steve smacks his hands away but doesn’t retreat.

“You never drew fake tattoos on people growing up?” Steve immediately rethinks the question when Eddie makes a face. “Robin and I do it sometimes. It’s fun.”

“I think I’m already pretty equipped in the tattoo department.” Eddie pulls at the collar of his shirt for emphasis. His black widow tattoo catches a glimpse of the outside world.

“Okay, but do you have one of my tattoos?” Steve’s really overselling his abilities here, but there’s no use turning back. Eddie stares at him for a while, just blinking, and then he chuckles.

“Fine.” He slaps his legs and heaves a labored sigh. “Where do you want me?”

….

Eddie shivers pretty frequently while he draws, but Steve doesn’t think much of it—some part of Eddie’s always in motion. His legs and fingers shake and tap at all times, even with his head pillowed on Steve’s lap. The Goonies has long since been swapped for The Evil Dead and it’s thus far distracted Eddie wonderfully. Steve’s not a horror guy by any stretch, but the movie has a lot of charm. He digs it.

He starts coloring in what he’s working on as Ash and Cheryl duke it out. Eddie gasps, and not at the movie.

“Steve,” Eddie mumbles, scrunching a little. Steve immediately retracts his hand.

“You okay?” Steve grips his shoulder. Eddie peeks up at him, something unreadable in his big eyes.

“I…yeah, nevermind.“ He’s suddenly very red. And weirdly quiet.

“Are you sure?” Steve cards his hands through Eddie’s hair as best as he can. He shivers and hums into the touch.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Eddie flourishes into a dramatic bow. Steve rolls his eyes and goes back to doodling. Eddie continues to twitch. Every time Steve checks on him, he gets the finger in return. There’s a cagey quality to it, like he’s equally embarrassed and bursting-at-the-seams about something, and for the love of Christ can’t he just spit it out?

“Munson, I can hear your brain sizzling. What is it?” Steve tugs on Eddie’s earlobe. Eddie bites at his fingers.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Keep going.” He settles back down, eyes stubbornly forward. When Steve doesn’t immediately continue, he gets an exaggerated wave of the hand that gets more and more aggressive until the marker touches back down. Eddie keeps shivering, keeps murmuring, but remains still.

It isn’t until Steve leans down to Eddie’s neck and blows to dry the ink that he understands.

Eddie squeaks. That’s absolutely the noise, like stepping on an old dog toy that’s seen a few storms. He turns towards Steve with comically large eyes.

“Oh.” Steve blinks, then smirks. “Ohhh. Forgot you were ticklish. Sorry.”

“You done?” Eddie’s scowling with no real heat, still red. Adorable. The twitching and deflection suddenly make so much more sense, all of it stupidly endearing. Flustered is a good color on him.

“Not yet. Finishing touches.” Steve kinda means it. He’s proud of his drawing, actually—he’s got a pretty damn good copy of Eddie’s guitar printed on his neck. It could be done. But then he’d be done. And that’s unconscionable.

Steve brings the marker back down with fast, feather-light strokes and Eddie dissolves.

He clenches his fists and waves them around like a kid having a tantrum at Scoops. He’s a firework of frenetic laughter, exploding in an instant and sparkling afterwards with waves of building giggles. It’s like his body had been waiting for this moment to release all the laughter he’d been holding back, and it washes him away.

“Stop squirming!” Steve’s more amused than anything. For all his flailing, Eddie’s mostly stationary.

“It tihihickles!” Eddie gigglesnorts and buries his face in his hands. Five feet ten inches of allegedly-intimidating metalhead and he’s a frizzy pile in Steve’s lap. Steve’s never gonna forget that Eddie snorts for as long as he lives. He’s prepared to chase that sound for the rest of his life.

“Well, stop squirming and it won’t tickle!” Steve mockingly gasps, as if this is an epiphany they should be sharing together.

“Oh, I’m so gonna kihihill you!” Eddie’s nose and eyes scrunch as his dazzling smile takes the forefront. He points a threatening finger at Steve, dimple on proud display.

“Almost done,” Steve hums, drawing lightning bolts crashing behind the guitar. Eddie wails like a broken siren and Steve cracks into snickers at the sound.

“You are cruel,” Eddie whines, laughter still bubbling out.

“The cruelest. Tap out if you need to. I’m finishing this sucker.” Steve rests Eddie’s hand on his thigh, threads his fingers into his hair, and pushes his head back down. It looks a little silly, like he’s forcing him to take a nap, but getting Eddie to stay still in any capacity is always an ordeal.

With Eddie’s beautiful laugh filling the room, it doesn’t take long before Steve’s abandoning his task, tickling up and under his shirt until they’re both flying off the couch into a proper scuffle, then into something much more fun.

...........................

“This is sick.” Eddie turns in the mirror and grins. The fretboard of the guitar ends in wicked points just behind his ear. It rests eternally within an open coffin, surrounded by thorny roses that are starting to look more like cinnamon buns the longer they’re in the light. A swarm of bats reigns over the whole affair, hanging out in the sky with the best lightning bolt Steve’s ever drawn. There’s a newly-blooming hickey right below it, but neither of them acknowledge it.

“Yeah?” Steve leans his hip against the wall and crosses his arms.

“Yeah. Definitely the first time a tattoo almost cost me my life, but it’s worth it.” Eddie pulls his hair away from his neck to get a better look. He’s still flushed a pretty pink and smiles come to him easily. Just like Eddie to be so full of color and life with such a dark wardrobe.

“Want me to help you get it off?” Steve pats his pockets and finds a crumpled tissue. It’s unused, but the state of it makes him subconsciously start building a case for where it’s been.

“So forward, Stevie. I thought you were a gentleman.” Eddie makes eye contact in the mirror, then looks over his shoulder to make it in three-dimensions, leaning back until his gaze peeks through his lashes.

“If you keep this up, I won’t be,” Steve mutters, pulling Eddie closer by the belt loops. He wraps his arms around his waist from behind and Eddie squeezes his hand. Something giddy flutters within Steve.

“Promise?” Eddie grabs his chin and tilts it toward him. His thumb brushes over Steve’s bottom lip.

The kiss that Steve answers with has everything but decorum.

Naturally, Steve doesn’t know how to behave when Eddie gets his stupid little drawing permanently tattooed. The artist added some fun detailing to the piece that makes Steve almost incapable of believing it was ever his drawing at all—the coffin has a velvet lining now and the guitar has some gorgeous shading, but it’s still unmistakably Steve’s. Now Eddie’s. Permanently.

“Are you sure?” Steve haunts the door to the trailer in case he needs to flee. The other shoe should be dropping any second now, but all he’s getting from Eddie is an amused stare.

“Oh, my bad. Let me go get this un-tattooed.” Eddie rolls his eyes and sheds his jacket. Steve worries at his bottom lip and stares at the tattoo. He does see something he doesn’t like. Above the art, Eddie’s added a banner that says ‘The Banished’. Steve scowls.

“If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have it. Quit worrying, you’ll wrinkle.” Eddie pokes Steve’s nose and pops his bubble of disapproval. Steve smacks his hand away, but not without a smile.

“It looks really good on you.” Steve traces Eddie’s jaw with his fingers, tilting it to get a better look.

“Yeah?” Eddie pauses, his voice wavering with something fragile and genuine. “…I was worried you’d think it’s weird. I know I didn’t tell you.”

Steve leans in and kisses him sweetly. The way Eddie melts into him will never get old.

“I love it...but it’s missing something.” Steve snags the marker off the coffee table. Eddie immediately holds his hands out with a goofy smile, excuses spilling from his lips, but Steve slides into his space unchallenged.

Fending off ring-clad hands from covering this apparently very ticklish spot, which he notes, Steve draws in another banner below the coffin that reads ‘The Brave’. Eddie gets it added as soon as the tattoo heals.

It becomes their ritual. Steve goes to work and stashes a movie or two under the counter, Eddie comes in and rents them, and they spend their nights in the trailer with good films and good company. Using each other as canvases isn’t always on the agenda, but when it is, it’s an event.

Steve becomes the proud artist of Eddie’s new Lord of the Rings forearm tattoo, though he gets assigned the entire series as required reading before Eddie agrees to get it inked. Eddie’s love for the books is a blessing, however, because he’s more than keen to read the grand passages aloud at literally any moment. The Tree of Gondor is his reward, and Eddie’s tattoo guy turning it into the pommel of an amazing rendition of Narsil, the blade realistically sharp, is a bonus.

Post-Narsil, Eddie suggests they take turns. He’s apparently caught the doodle bug and Robin has to have something to do with it—she’s been bugging Steve less and less about being her practice dummy. She actually joins them once or twice. But mostly it’s Steve and Eddie watching half a movie, then losing the other half under murmured conversations and drawing on one another.

Tonight, though, Rocky Horror is watching them.

“Harrington, sweetheart, if you keep scrunching, I’m going to draw dicks on your face.” Eddie doesn’t look up from where he’s perched over Steve like a goblin. His legs hang off the couch in a way that can’t be comfortable and his face is pinched in concentration mere inches from Steve’s stomach. Steve’s shirt has long since been abandoned.

He doesn’t dignify Eddie with an answer and tries to focus on Tim Curry’s crooning. Eddie’s singing along under his breath, occasionally breaking into louder sustained notes. He squeezes Steve’s thigh when he does this and Steve jumps every time.

Eddie slides to the floor between Steve’s legs and his brain goes places that he isn’t prepared for. Eddie must see something in Steve’s eyes because he leans forward, hands roaming up as he does. Steve’s already there to meet him. Eddie tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth and lets go, leaving their lips to brush, the fuckin’ tease. Eddie’s hands wander back down while he hovers just out of reach. Steve keens closer—

Eddie yanks him forward by the ankle. Steve’s head pomfs into the back of the couch and he groans. Eddie outright cackles.

“Why?” Steve doesn’t whine, he doesn’t.

“You should’ve seen your face, holy shit,” Eddie wheezes, melting into Steve’s lap as his shoulders shake. Steve rolls his eyes and moves to stand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie splays his fingertips across Steve’s stomach and wiggles them ever so slightly.

Steve releases a strangled laugh, jerking his knees just shy of Eddie’s chin. He manages to get a half-baked apology past the barricade of giggles building in his lungs.

“Last warning. Stop moving.” Eddie raises his eyebrow in a silent challenge. He pins him back with a strong hand to the chest, bars his other forearm across Steve’s thighs, and gets back to drawing.

To his credit, Steve lasts a full ten seconds before he starts twitching again, biting the inside of his cheek to quell the laughter bubbling in his chest. The feeling of the marker on his skin is starting to drive him insane.

“Seriously?” Eddie’s exasperation being as funny as it is doesn’t help anything.

“Pick somewhere else?” He wishes he at least sounded like he means it.

“Oh no, nonono, it’s my turn. The dice chose our fate, we cannot abandon it now.” Eddie gestures to his jet black d20 on the table, still sitting pretty on a big 17. 17: pantline/hips.

Rolling for tattoo spots was a new invention, but it certainly became law a little quick for Steve’s taste. Though, that’s what he gets for dating a guy who threatens his dice and their families before he rolls them.

“I’ll pick a different spot.” Eddie starts to get up, a poorly-concealed note of disappointment in his voice. Steve makes a vague noise of protest. When Eddie ignores him, he pulls him back by the wrist.

“I’ll be fine.” Steve frowns. It takes some bickering before Eddie sits back down again, but with a quick kiss and some well-timed flattery, they’re back in business.

He does last longer this time. He muffles the snickers that do sneak up on him into his fist. He’s doing alright, watching the movie over Eddie’s mop of curls, but then Eddie’s licking his finger and swiping at the art, trying to clean up a line, and a laugh bursts out before he can catch it. Eddie looks up at him with an irritated twitch of his lip.

“I’m sorry, it—“

“Tickles?” Eddie’s annoyance evaporates, all an act, and gets replaced by a wild grin. Steve realizes what he’s doing, the fucking longest con of all time—

“Don’t—“

“Well, then—“ Eddie cackles in triumph.

“Don’t you dare—“ Steve hits him with a pillow.

“—Stop squirming and it won’t tickle,” Eddie finishes, doing a terrible, nasally mockery of Steve’s voice. He laughs and dodges Steve’s next pillow swing, squeezing at his waistline until he drops his weapon and wheezes a surrender.

“You suck.” Steve curls, his skin buzzing under Eddie’s still fingers.

“You love it.” Eddie pokes again for good measure. “Now are we doing this the easy way, or the hard way?” He pulls the cap off the marker with his teeth, twirling it like a drumstick. Steve sticks his tongue out.

“Fun way it is.” Eddie’s grin is just a little feral. Steve swallows nervously.

Steve has fought all manner of monsters. He’s watched a child explode things with her mind. He’s been through hell and back more than once. All his battle-hardened bravery flies out the window when Eddie goes back in to draw. Not because he’s doodling on Steve’s skin, nono, because when his other hand isn’t occupied with holding his canvas still, it’s actively tickling him.

“Asshole!” Steve shrieks, burying his face in his hands. He fights the urge to tangle his fingers in his hair.

“Not sure what you mean, Stevie,” Eddie singsongs, pinching at the underside of his knee, the perfect picture of innocence. He’s a fucking menace is what he is, and Steve’s gonna absolutely ruin him once they’re done.

Steve’s pretty sure his life flashes before his eyes at one point and Eddie must see it, because he murmurs an amused “hang in there, cupcake” and lays off his bullying. But he’s still doodling, and Steve’s far past any measure of pretending he’s composed.

“Et voilá! Another masterpiece complete.” Eddie pops up nearly 30 breathless minutes later with a victorious flourish. Steve’s chest has a faint, dull ache and his cheeks hurt from smiling, but he does it anyway when he catches sight of Eddie’s gleaming eyes.

Eddie’s drawn a spiked bat on his hipbone—Ah, that explains the maddening bunch of circles that he drew at the last minute there. An impressive crown rests at an angle on the bat. On the other hip, Eddie’s loopy, geometric autograph curves along his waistband, a little bat dotting the ‘i’.

“Where are the makeup wipes?” Eddie scrounges through Mt. Stuff on the coffee table, to no avail. He starts to scurry off to his bedroom but Steve grabs his wrist.

“Don’t bother. I wanna keep ‘em.” Steve traces over Eddie’s signature with his finger. Following the loops is oddly satisfying.

“Okay. Just don’t do anything stupid.” Eddie sticks his hands in his pockets.

“Like what?”

“Like get that shit tattooed. Those things are permanent, y'know. Don’t let the troubled youths lead you astray.” Eddie shrugs back on his melodrama like an old, familiar coat.

“Or what? You’ll ground me?” Steve crosses his arms.

“It’s not a good idea,” Eddie scoffs, flopping back onto the couch. Something cold and distant settles over his demeanor as he fiddles with his rings.

“Elaborate.” Steve pats Eddie’s cheek until he graces him with eye contact.

“Ah, he’s learned new words. Henderson teach you that one?” Eddie’s eyelids lower as he snarks, lashing out at nothing at all. He gets like this sometimes, like a storm that’s all thunder and no rain. He’s always on the defensive.

“You did, actually. What’s got your boxers in a twist?” Steve knocks their legs together. Eddie turns to face him. Steve catches the precise moment that he bites back an innuendo.

“Tattoos are permanent.” Eddie speaks slowly, as if explaining this to a child. Steve scowls.

“Yes, we covered this. Quit being a smartass.” Steve pinches his arm hard. Eddie hisses out an apology and backtracks.

“Rule number one is to never get a tattoo you’ll regret. You’re playing with fire here.” Eddie scribbles at the doodles he’s made and Steve flinches with a huff.

“I don’t regret them.”

“Yeah, now you don’t. It’s later that I’m worried about. Like when I finally do something to scare you away, but then you still have to look at my name on your skin.“ Eddie hitches his knee up and sinks deeper into the couch.

“You won’t scare me away, man. I’d literally never get tired of you.“ Steve furrows his brow. How is this even a hypothetical? He loves spending time with Eddie. He loves Eddie.

Woah, new development. But a good one.

“Okay, well, in a few years those words are gonna bite you in the ass and you’ll have to get a very creative cover up.” Eddie’s eyebrows lift as he scoffs, picking at the denim on his knee. Steve briefly wonders what or who might be hiding under his tattoos.

“Alright, this doesn’t seem to be piercing your thick skull.” Steve cradles Eddie’s face in his hands. “I will never get tired of you. Not now, not in a year, not in a hundred.”

“Not even in death?” Eddie’s being dramatic now, taking the low-hanging petulant fruit, and Steve indulges him.

“I’d be honored if you haunted me.” Steve kisses his forehead as tender as he can manage, lingering there until he can feel it sink through to Eddie’s brain.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a romantic, Harrington?” Eddie gazes at him, content to be held.

“Once or twice.” Steve shrugs. Eddie pulls him forward by the front of his shirt for a kiss, and Steve’s arms wrap around his shoulders where they’re meant to be.

...............................................

“You’re staring, Munson.” Steve grins when Eddie freezes in his peripheral. He’s not exactly innocent here, he is wearing Eddie’s vest and only his vest, but it’s hot out and that seems like enough justification. Not like Eddie’s helping—his hair’s pulled back, bangs hanging in his eyes, and the ponytail is unfairly mesmerizing.

“You’re distracting, sue me.” Eddie pulls Steve closer a little roughly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I can’t believe you did this.” Eddie wriggles a nail over his autograph, now permanently etched on Steve’s skin. He immediately squirms away with a huff.

Robin finally got her wish. It was an ordeal that took all fucking day, but letting her give him a stick and poke meant snacks, good company, and free ink. The only tax he had to pay was listening to Robin gag the entire time over Steve wanting Eddie’s name on his skin. As if it wasn’t a relatively small tattoo.

“Yeah, well, I thought it’d be nice to have something in common besides this.” He gestures to the rough plane of his demobat scars. “Plus, maybe I’ll finally be promoted to Corroded Coffin’s number one groupie.”

“Throw your bra on stage, then we’ll talk,” Eddie laughs, jostling their shoulders together.

“So you’re saying there’s a chance.” Steve leans in close, grinning, and Eddie shoves him away.

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous.” Eddie bites his lip on a silly smile.

“You’re just scared you’d see me shirtless and I’d be irresistible.” Steve folds his arms behind his head and kicks his feet onto the coffee table.

“I’ve already seen you shirtless, so check that off the list,” Eddie hums, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Then my work here is done.” Steve brushes his hands together and stands. Eddie grabs him by the waist and pulls him back down into a giggling heap. They roll around a little, Eddie managing to get Steve in a headlock and Steve managing to ruthlessly tickle until Eddie releases him. They land in a heap, legs entangled, and Eddie just gazes at him.

“I’m glad I got stuck on you, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheek. The way Eddie looks at him is sometimes terrifying, the consumption of it all. As if Steve hung the moon and stars. And he would in a heartbeat if Eddie asked. But he hasn’t, and he’ll never ask, and it’s dizzying to be cared for so unconditionally by someone who deserves it all.

“Me too.” Steve shimmies underneath Eddie a bit. “I love you.”

Eddie beams like the sun, warm and beautiful and unmoving. He brings his hand to his mouth, thumb fiddling with his teeth as he lights the room with that smile.

“I love you too.” His voice cracks with emotion around the edges. His eyes glitter like river stones with unshed tears. Steve holds him steady, holds him close, and resolves to never let go. Even when Eddie gets snot on Steve’s shoulder.

When Eddie shows up a few weeks later with ‘Steve’ tattooed on his chest across a heart pierced by an arrow, Steve chases him around the trailer with a pillow until Eddie’s cackling through an apology. It’s the sweetest, craziest thing anyone’s ever done for him and he doesn’t care if it makes him a hypocrite, tattoos are permanent and Eddie’s an idiot.

But, just like Steve, Eddie doesn’t regret a thing.

....

A/N: Normally I don’t do these but I had some little things I wanted to geek out over:

- this was originally a 10k-ish fic that i squeezed down like an orange so apologies if anything felt weird or squished! Realized I do NOT know how to write Robin, Dustin, or Nancy lol.

- I imagine that Eddie is wearing Steve’s yellow sweater in this. It makes me happy.

- Get tattoos of anything you want, I’m not the tattoo police, but Eddie has a point: generally not a good idea to get tattoos of anything you might regret down the line. Shit can get expensive. I know so many people who got Game of Thrones and Harry Potter coverups, also people who got tattoos for people who are now not their friends/their exes. Be smart and take care of your tattoos! <3

- Eddie’s signature looks a lot like Ozzy Ozbourne’s! He’s practiced it for years and loves getting to sign stuff at Corroded Coffin concerts (though it’s usually just Steve, Dustin, and Robin heckling him while Will and Mike ask genuinely)

- You will pry Eddie giving Steve pet names, not limited to be including Stevie, sweetheart, babe, princess, pretty boy, etc from my cold, dead hands.

- Eddie gives me the vibe of someone who’d want a tattoo sleeve or even two, and I like to think the Narsil tattoo starts a Lord of the Rings one for him :)

- this concept is based on something I used to do with friends IRL in high school! We usually only did like hands/arms/ankles and I was voted out as a canvas bc I was too squirmy :/

#my fics #bug’s greatest hits #stranger things #steddie #steveddie #ticklish!eddie munson #ticklish!steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #i think i got maybe a 10% better read on their characters between this time and last time!!#this is all over the place and mostly self indulgent but I do really enjoy writing them. they're fun.#anywho i hope y'all enjoy!!#they kiss So Much in this but you can't tell me they're not like that

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warrenwrites · 2 years

Text

Quid Pro Quo

Quid Pro Quo Eddie Munson x Reader

I spent longer than I'm proud of looking for the gif of Eddie leaning back in his chair, tapping his pen on the desk while he pouted slightly. Only to realize that I made that up in my head while writing this and it never actually happened.

This is seriously one of my favourites, I’m so in love with this, thank you so much for the request @chloenotfound404

Will proof read in the morning

Summary: Eddie teaches you to play guitar in exchange for baking lessons, mischief occurs.

Word Count: 5.3K!!!!!

"Psst," you heard from behind. You knew exactly where the noise was coming from. This was the only class you had with Eddie where he was forced to sit behind you but that never stopped him from finding ways to bother you.

You didn't respond, telling yourself you were focused, but really it was just to irk Eddie. You knew he wouldn't stand for the silent treatment so you had no fear in missing out on the conversation.

"Hey!" He whisper-shouted, this time kicking the back of your chair to get your attention.

Turning your head slightly to the side you answered, "what do you want now, Munson?" You asked, without turning your body to face him.

"I need your help," he confessed.

"What could you need help with? It's literally just note taking-"

"No not this," he dismissed, shocked by the insinuation in the first place. "I need you to teach me to make a cake, I wanna do something for Wayne's birthday this year."

“What? Why are you asking me?” You asked in a whisper, head turned slightly over your shoulder but body still facing the front of the class. “Why don’t you just use the recipe books I have at your place?”

“C’mon, I need your help. I need your help,” he pleaded. You were sure it was pure flattery but you'd be lying to say it didn't work a little. “You’re so good at everything.”

He only said this because you were famous in his trailer for your culinary skills. Over the last few years you’d known the Munson's, you often found yourself trying new recipes and techniques to show off and get their opinions on. It was never anything less than 10/10, except one time when all you had asked them to do was stir the sauce and it became inedible in the five minutes you were gone. Wayne wasn’t a half bad cook so you souly blamed Eddie’s intervention.

That and because you once sewed a patch onto Eddie’s jacket with such precision it looked ironed on. You also could untangle his Walkman cord in record time and get knots out of his hair without having to cut it.

He might have had a point. It was true to say you were extremely dexterous so Eddie was right to come to you for your baking skills, it was truly your golden talent. However, committing to the humble role you took on every time you severed a meal with a quick “It’s not my best.”, or maybe you just liked to bug him, you denied Eddie’s claim.

“I’m not good at everything,” you argued, shaking your head, body still facing away from him.

You heard him huff and slump over his desk before humming in thought and perking his head back up. “That’s true, actually. You’re a total disgrace at the guitar.”

Once again, Eddie was right on the money. One could argue you’d never really tried in the first place, but anytime you picked up his baby you couldn’t find a cord to save your life. Regardless, the certainty in his voice pissed you off, “Excuse me?”

“I’ve never heard a cat going through a vacuum,” he teased. “But I have to imagine it sounds kinda the same.”

You snapped around to fully face him and threw an eraser at his head, at the shit-eating grin that was plastered onto his face. It hit his chest instead and you held your scowl while you turned back to face your work, attempting to hide the smile trying to force it’s way onto your face.

“It’s true!” He defended. “But I suppose you wouldn’t know since you’re clearly tone deaf.”

You bit your lip to hide the smile that he couldn’t even see, in an attempt to stay quiet and not defend yourself. He was just trying to wind you up as he always did.

Eddie didn't need to see your face to know you were smiling, he just knew, he always did, so he persisted. “Heeeeeey.”

You didn’t respond.

“Pleeeeeease?” In the midst of your silent treatment, you felt an electric shock run down your spine as Eddie poked the back of his pen into your back and dragged it lightly down your spine.

You nearly jumped out of your seat with how hard you flinched, squeaking involuntarily at the tickly sensation, audible only to the two of you. You let your head fall back in sigh after a moment of reissuing. Him figuring this out was surely the worst thing that could ever and will ever happen to you.

“What’s this?” He questioned, smirk evident in his voice.

When you still didn’t respond, too distracted by coming to terms with the fact that you were now subject to a life long torment, you felt it again. “Eddie!” You squeaked, jumping around to face him. You reached for his pen and snatched it out of his hand to point at him accusatorily. “Would you cut it out?”

He leant back in his chair as he raised his eyebrows and, in a voice of wonder and genuine disbelief, asked “Ticklish?”

You felt the heat rise to your face and you were sure that steam was coming off the top of your head. You opened your mouth to either defend yourself or scold him but he interrupted you before you could get a word out.

“Pleeeease help me.” He pouted dramatically. “C’mon Obi Wan, you’re my only hope,” he mimicked in a voice higher than his own.

You rolled your eyes at his terrible impression, “Star Wars, really?” He smiled proudly and the sight alone made you melt inside. You slammed the pen down on his desk but didn’t remove your hand. “I will help you, if you teach me guitar.”

He looked at you quizzically and questioned, “You really wanna learn?”

“At least a little,” you shrugged. “Quid Pro Quo. I will teach you to bake so you don’t come to me every time you crave something sweet and you teach me guitar so I have one more thing you can admire me for.”

Eddie stared, smiling, he always loved your monologues, especially when they had an undertone that some may call vain but he admired for your exaggerated confidence. He wanted to express his adoration for you but all that came out was, “It’s sexy when you speak Latin.”

You could have sworn your face was going to catch fire like a speeding tire. You were used to the flirting that you repeatedly told yourself was meaningless, but sometimes he said just the thing to catch you off guard. “Well?” You prompted, removing your hand from the pen.

Eddie was in deep contemplation; on one hand he didn’t want you to stop baking for him but on the other hand he really wanted to give Wayne a homemade cake. It was also more time he could spend with you and he’d be lying to say he didn’t long to see you holding his guitar again. “You got yourself a deal, Sweetness.”

The guitar fixation began one morning when you stopped by his trailer to get him out of bed for school. He huffed and clung to his pillows, mumbling that it was cold and if you weren’t gonna join him then he’s happy for you to stand there and freeze. His attitude came to a holt when he heard the familiar ‘ting’ of his unplugged guitar.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw you holding his guitar by the neck, hoisted with your arm stretched out. “Get out of bed. Or the guitar gets it,” you threatened dramatically, holding it completely still in the air.

Eddie had laughed at you and turned slightly. It was then you noticed his fluffy hair, half-lidded eyes and shirtless torso. No wonder he was cold. Above all you noticed his blissful smile as he watched you, it was a sight you would never forget and long for every time he looked at you. “Give it a go,” he encouraged with a small nudge to the air before lazily dropping his hand back onto the bed.

You assume it was intended as a challenge but it came out with such soft encouragement that you were completely compelled. You put the strap around your neck and held it with unsteady hands. You had no clue what you were doing and you felt extremely nervous under Eddie’s watchful eye so instead of genuinely attempting a cord you obnoxiously strummed down to create a god-awful racket while you bit your lip to match the intensity.

Eddie groaned, flopping back onto the bed and yanked a pillow over his ears. “Mercy!” He called before clambering out of bed with his hands stretched out in front of him. “Okay okay okay, I'm up. Stop stop stop, have mercy on this home and my precious ears.”

Despite his protests, Eddie had caught sight of you fumbling to hold his guitar in his room, biting your lip and smiling as you did. He made a point to solidify that memory and it was one he’d often replay over an over in his mind. Truth be told that was probably the moment he started to fall for you.

So when you found yourself back in his room, arms stationed on the instrument he so dearly loved, it felt like Heaven on Earth to him. You sat of the edge of his bed, feet flat on the floor while Eddie sat behind you with his right leg tucked up underneath him.

“We’ll start with something easy-” he began after clearing his throat and scooting closer to you.

“What? I’m not gonna riff ‘Master of The Puppets?” You teased, knowing how many long hours he’d recently put in to learning the song.

He held back a laugh at how wrong your wording was and instead groaned, throwing his head back. “Don’t bring up that song right now, I swear my fingers are still bleeding.”

You fake pouted at his misery, jutting out your bottom lip, mockingly, “want me to kiss ‘em better?” You watched the breath hitch in Eddies throat and had to force your attention away from his neck.

He chuckled in response before grabbing your left hand in his and placing your hand gently on the guitars neck. “Okay so these lines here are frets,” he explained as he moved his hand and pressed down on each of the spaces between the lines, counting zero to six as he did. “That’s all we’re gonna need for this song.”

You liked the way he said ‘we’ instead of ‘you’. “I think I can handle it so far,” you encouraged, brashly.

“We’ll see,” he countered, pausing to look at you with raised eyebrows. He moved your hand in the pattern ‘Open, Three, Five. Open, Three, six five. Open, three, five. Three, open.’ And you continued the pattern until you could do it without looking. “Alright, see? You are a natural at everything,” he encouraged in a distractingly sweet voice.

“You were right for once,” you shrugged and looked up to meet his slight scowl. “Now, how about I actually make a noise?”

Eddie scoffed, “you make plenty of noises,” he said, bringing the heat back to your cheeks as your mind went to dark places. “The trick is getting you to stop.”

“Hey! Pot to kettle,” you shamed.

“Okahay, sorry.” He loosened his grip on your left hand and rested his right, subconsciously, on your waist.

After some time you could clearly hear the introduction to ‘Smoke on the Water’ but as you tapped your head to the beat you focused on the counting in your head. ‘Open, three, five. Open, three, six five. Open, three, five. Three, open.’ It took all your focus so you paid no attention to the fact that Eddie was staring at you, matching your concentration.

At this moment, he debated just giving in and kissing you. That’s what they did in the movies, right? Just get caught up in the moment and go for it? It usually worked out for them.

His gaze was interrupted as you sat straight up and turned to face him, nearly tapping his nose with yours. “Stop it.” You demanded with the signature ‘Talking to Eddie’ face and he was sure you meant the staring until he paid closer attention. In his distraction he had subconsciously started tapping along to the beat with his hand that rested on your side, sending the sensation up your torso.

When the penny finally dropped, a smirk snuck its way onto his face, “You know," he began. “A true musician needs to be able to stay completely focused.”

“Now we both know that’s not true,” you argued, knowing just how distracted he was at any given moment. You felt a squeeze to the side where his hand resided and you flinched, nearly hitting him in the chin with your shoulder. “Don’t you dare,” you threatened.

“You know. It’s really sweet that you think I’m a true musician,” the squeezing got a little faster and you dropped you chin to your chest, clutching the guitar for dear life as you braced against the sensation. “But don’t think I didn’t catch that blatant insult.”

“Eheheddie,” you giggled, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of dropping your arms to your sides.

He seemed unfazed by your pleading. He needed his towards the guitar, “keep playing,” he teased, scribbling his fingers slowly in a small knot, tormenting a very particular cluster of nerves.

You tried to play along but you found it to be increasingly difficult as he focused on small areas with a soft pressure. It was a tormenting feeling and you couldn’t stop the giggles from pouring out over the music you were trying to play. You truly melted when Eddie laughed at you, dropping his head to your shoulder and you heard his soft giggles in your ear.

It warmed your heart nut you lost all focus when he grabbed the other side of you with his left hand and scribbled symmetrically with the other, forcing yourself to let go of the guitar and pull your arms to your side.

In a split second you both screamed bloody murder, no coherent words, just instinctive noises of panic as you launched yourselves to catch the guitar before it hit the ground.

Luckily, you grabbed onto it before it could fall completely off your lap and pulled it close to your chest. Eddie did the same with his arms around you, knuckles white as he sandwiched you between himself and the instrument.

You laughed along with Eddie at your collective panic when he dropped his head to your shoulder once again. “Okay, okay, okay, be gentle with her.” He faux hyperventilated, feigning a panic attack and slowly moved to rest the guitar safely against the wall next to his bed.

You scooted back onto his bed to rest your back against his pillows with your legs outstretched in front of you, folded at the ankles. “I take zero responsibility for what could have happened to her,” you confessed.

Eddie glared and reached out to tickle along the bottom of your socked foot. Shrieking, you pulled it back, which only gave him room to clasp his hand around your other ankle and yank you down the bed.

You screamed in protest and rolled over to grab a pillow to smack him with, but before you could you felt his body weight drop onto your legs as he pinned you face down. “Eddie! Eddie. Eheheheddie no!” you panicked, before he’d even touched you.

“Jeez, how ticklish are you?” He asked, scribbling his fingers down your spine before moving to the back of your ribs. You weren’t sure if it was the light touching or the teasing or the vulnerable position you were in, or if it was just how comfortable you felt around Eddie but his actions tickled far more than you could ever had anticipate.

You squealed and pleaded as he fluttered his fingers around to your sides, causing you to continue your shrieking of nearly incoherent words that bubbled out of your mouth. “Nonononono! NO! MEheheheheercyhehehehe!”

“No mercy?” He mocked. “Jeez, what a sadist.” His movements didn’t let up. You finally found a grip on a pillow and dragged it down to bury your face in and scream out as he dug his hands into your waist.

“BASTARD! AHAHAHAhahaha I SWEAR! EDDIE! Ihihihihihif yohohohou dohohon’t stohohohohop I swehehear I wohon’t make thahat daham cake!” You threatened.

“What was that?” he leaned down to bring his ear closer to you and let up on his torment, “I couldn’t hear you over the pillow you’ve been praying into to.”

“I MEHEAN IT!” You screamed, the smile on your face bringing light to your words.

Upon hearing your threat, Eddie groaned and moved off you to which you immediately rolled over and brought your knees up slightly to giggle to yourself. “I’m dohohne, I swear,” Eddie promised, holding his hands up in surrender. He laid on his back, next to you on the bed. “Suppose we’d better get started since it’s tomorrow.”

You shot up into a seated position, starring daggers at Eddie. “What? No, his birthday isn’t for a couple of days.” You argued.

“Yeah, but tomorrow’s his night off so I thought we could surprise him,” he explained, tugging at your heart strings once again with the use of the word ‘We’. “What’s wrong? You made that checkered cake for your neighbor in a day, remember?”

“Yes,” you confirmed. “And do you remember what I said I’d do to the next person to give me that kind of notice?”

Eddie felt a wave of regret at the, quiet frankly, terrifying look on your face. “But you would find it in your forgiving heart to look past the idiot planning on my part-"

You cut him off with a scoff and ran out to his kitchen, dragging him by the hand as you ran down the halls together.

Once set up, with all the necessary ingredients displayed on the counter, you found the patience to begin your instructions. You stood closer to the bench than him while he peered over your shoulder, watching you gesture and talk with your hands.

“You start with the dry ingredients, then add your wet ingredients but I like to add the sugar to the wet ingredients.” You explained your process, falling into a small ramble.

You would have continued had Eddie not interrupted you. "Is this the part where I throw flour in your face and we have a good natured food fight before you fall for me and we kiss?” He asked, humour evident in his voice as he kept up his teasing, hiding slightly behind his hair as he did.

Fighting the urge to follow his very suggestion, you forced a glare onto your face. “You do that and I will exchange the sugar for salt in everything I bake for you from here on out,” you threatened.

“Sooo you’re still gonna bake for me after this?” He asked, tucking his arms behind his back and swaying in a display of feigned innocence.

“Is that why you’ve always been so bad at this?” You questioned, smiling as Eddie burst into laughed, folding at the waist as he did, It was always the bluntest of jokes that set Eddie off. You shoved a bag of flour into his chest before you continued, “Of course I'm still gonna bake for you.”

“Aww,” he coo’d, turning around to get to work. He poured the flour into the mixing bowl, tapping the side of the cup with enough force to have it form a cloud. “You love me so much,” he teased.

“What are you doing?" You interjected, stopping him quickly. "You have to sift the flour!" You argued.

He stared blankly and blinked, eyes devoid of all thought. Slowly, he poured the flour from the bowl back into the bag. When you didn't provide further instructions, he smiled and shook the bag of flour in his hands.

"No you-" ugh "okay, here" You grabbed the shive and held it over the mixing bowl and further explained, "you pour the flour through the sifter so it doesn't come out all clumpy and pathetic."

“Well we wouldn't want 'pathetic flour' now would we," his face scrunched in determination as he tapped out the rest of the flour into the bowl. "In my defence, you never said to do that,” he defended.

“I’ve baked in this kitchen how many times?" You asked, pouring out the cocoa and other dry ingredients. "How did you not know to sift the ingredients?”

“Well I don’t watch what you’re doing," he argued with a scrunched faced and mocking voice. Then, in a smaller, softer voice added, "I'm always just watching you.”

You faltered slightly but told yourself to not read into it and instead do what you were invited to do. To do what you had done many times before in this very kitchen. It was just that something felt different after your guitar lesson. He had been so close and more physical than usual which brought your feelings to a boil.

Eddie had taken lead on the baking, carefully pouring each ingredient into the bowl, sifting it before it mixed together. You watched and admired his determination. It took some time and a fair bit of mess and correcting some nearly fatal mistakes but eventually the two of you had come closer to baking the cake.

Eddie was fixing up the wet ingredients and as he began breaking the eggs, you noticed he was doing it one handed. Not even to show off, it was just instinctual. It was absolutely something you could have ignored but instead you found yourself inching closer to him from behind.

You put your hands either side of his hips and squeezed, causing him to yelp and jump, nearly dropping the remaining eggshell into the batter. “Christ! Y/n! Hey!” Shaking his hands free of yolk, he grabbed a towel and cleaned off his palms. “Whahat was thahat fohor? I was doing okay!”

Taking the towel out of his hands you placed in back on the bench before stepping closer and bringing your hands back up to his waist. “Well I can’t have you being better then me at this, now can I?" You defended, not yet moving them again.

“Oh now that’s cruel,” he accused, holding your hands nervously in his as he leant back into the counter.

“Keep baking, Eddie.” You teased with a shrug of your shoulder, feeling the devil’s smirk on your face.

He glared, playfully before turning back to keep up with his baking. You slid your hands up his shirt from behind and lightly scribbled your fingers into his sides. It felt so normal to be this close to him, inhaling his scent, basically hugging him and burying your face into his shirt.

It would have commanded your attention if Eddie wasn’t jumping like a fish out of water every time your fingers moved on his sides. “Jesus Eddie, you know a true baker-”

“Dohohohohon’t yohohohou ehehehevehen dahahahare, I sweheheahahahare!” Eddie tried his best to get on with what he was doing but he found it difficult with his elbows glued to his sides.

You kept giving instructions, tickling a little harder when he’d make a mistake. “No, a teaspoon of vanilla essence, not a table spoon,” you explained, moving your hands up to his ribs.

“Ah! Okay! Okahahahahay, ihihi’m ehehever soho sohohohorry, Chehehef.” He pleaded.

Eventually, he came to the end of the recipe and after struggling to tap out the bubbles without splashing the batter across the room, he was finished. “Okahahahay, okayokayokay, ihihi’m dohohohooooone,” he continued to plead, turning around and holding his arms close to his body, trying to fend you off. When that didn’t work, he slid down the counter, bringing you with him.

“Mhyhy Gohod, Eheheddie,” You laughed, scooting yourself to sit next to him, back against the counter.

He raised an accusatory hand, pointing a finger at you and flinched slightly to keep his sides protected. “Dohon’t eheven stahart.”

You smiled and turned slightly, looking him in the eyes that were twinkling brightly, “well,” you shrugged, “now you’re a master baker.”

There was a pause before he broke the eye contact, turning away to genuinely laugh at your remark. “Dohon’t think I’m ehever gonna lehet you do that again, Pretty.”

You felt your cheeks ache at how much smiling you’d done today. When he turned back, you were ready with your eyes already on his. For a moment you just stared at each other and Eddie considered once again, just getting caught in the moment and going for it. However, before he could muster the courage, your sweet voice flew through his ears.

“Soooo, are you gonna put it in the oven or is Wayne getting a Birthday Beverage?” You asked, shrugging as if it were a genuine question.

Eddie stared at you for a moment more before rolling his eyes and getting up with a loud exaggerated ‘huff’. Once upright, he turned around and offered you a hand. His smirk told you not to take it but since nothing would prevent you from getting closer to him, you let him take your hand and pull you up.

After getting up with his assistance, Eddie pulled you a little closer than necessary and clasped his hands on your biceps. “You, Smiles,” He began before moving you to the other side of the kitchen “Can stay right here- wait no, here- wait no! Here. While I handle the hot stuff.” He instructed.

Maybe it was the fact that you had him giggling at your mercy just moments ago, or maybe it was the fact that you’d caught on to his stared. Whatever it was, something instilled you with a bold confidence. “Aren’t you the hot stuff?” You asked.

He faltered a little whilst picking up the cake tin and was at a loss for words for a short moment before he turned and, with a fake scowl, told you to, “Just stay in your area.”

Feeling a strange sense of accomplishment, you pulled yourself to sit up on the counter as you watched him take the cake out of the oven, “don’t burn yourself,” you warned, prompting him to reach for a towel before putting it in.

“Yes chef,” he mocked as he set it down in the oven. When he turned around, he looked you up and down with a smile on his face. He took a few strides towards you before dropping the towel next to you on the counter and placing his hands onto your thighs.

You felt the heat radiate from his hands as they rested on your thighs, moving them slightly so he could stand between them. He couldn’t take it anymore, he let himself get caught up in the moment and go for it.

Eddie’s grip on your legs tightened as he leaned forward and locked his lips onto yours. You were stunned at first, completely taken back by his actions. Quickly, you relaxed and exhaled as he pulled away. You kept your eyes closed for a moment and opened them to see he’d done the same thing. You gabbed the towel beside you to hold it tightly, wringing it out in your hands to relieve the nerves and adrenaline that built in your body.

Neither of you spoke for a moment until Eddie cleared his throat, “Ahem, sorry I- uh, we should maybe time the cake cause-”

Cutting him off, you wrapped the towel around the back of his neck, holding it in your hands to pull him closer once again. “I’ve got it,” you reassured.

“Yeah? Great,” he let you pull him in and grabbed tightly on your waist, pulling you slightly off the counter to lock his lips with yours again. He kisses were deep and full of devotion, this time way more relaxed than the first. Neither of you made it very heated or out of control, you just wanted to feel this for the moment, That was until you felt Eddie’s fingers scribble up your waist, making you jump and squeak out of the kiss.

“Eddie! Whyhyhyhyyyy?” you pleaded, dropping the towel to grasp his hands in yours.

He tapped his forehead against yours, smiling at your torment, “Because I really like your smile,” he kissed you quickly over your giggles, “and how you move against me,” he explained, still tickling at your sides.

“Ahahahnd ahahafter I bahahaked yohohou a cahahahake,” you guilted, squeezing his hands to brace yourself.

“You?” He feigned offence. “And here I thought this was all due to my talent and no one else’s.”

“Ihihif I sahahy Ihihit wahahas wihihill yohou stohohohop?” You pleaded, squirming around, finding absolutely no escaped.

Eddie kissed you deeply again, letting his hands fall to the counter, holding yours just as you held his. “Man, I wish I knew this sooner,” he spoke against your lips, once he’d found it in himself to pull away.

“Which part?” You asked still giggling slightly, “being ticklish or having a crush on you?” You locked eyes with him, trying to mask how shy you felt at your own words.

Eddie squeezed your sides again, smiling even bigger when you jumped. “The ticklish thing, obviously. I always knew you had a major crush on me.”

“Oh I’m sure you did,” you laughed before kissing him again. “You know I could say the same?”

“‘That right?” He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you, nodding to encourage you to continue.

“Absolutely.” You nodded, touching his nose to yours, “ Do you know how easy it would have been to get you out of bed for all these years, if I knew you were ticklish?” You questioned.

He raised his eyebrows and if it weren’t for the smile across his face, he might have looked offended. “Do you know how badly I would have gotten you back if I knew you were?” He counted, locking his eyes onto yours. “Hey, you know what I just realised?” he asked, pinching your sides to have you giggle into his chest.

“Whahahaat’s thahat?” You asked, slightly kicking while you moved to fight off his hands

“I found something else I win at.”

“Thahahat’s so nhohot fahair,” you argued. Grabbing his hands and pulling them away from your sides. “If you actually taught me guitar, I would be pretty decent- And don’t try to say it was because I'm ticklish, that’s all on you.”

He hummed in thought before backing off, pulling you by the arms to follow him. Once you’d landed on the floor, he hugged you close with one hand and rested the other being you on the counter. “That’s, a little bit fair.” He agreed. “But you wouldn’t be able to focus with me that close anyway.”

“Oh you don’t think so?” You countered, pushing his chest slightly.

He shook his head dramatically, “not at all.”

“We still have time while the cake bakes, if you really wanna take on that challenge?” You asked, looking sweetly through your eyelashes.

Eddie bit back his smile in thought before planting a kiss on your lips and grabbing your hand to drag you to his room. You laughed at his speed and excitement to get to his room. For the next forty-five minutes, you tried, you really did. But as it happens, Eddie was right, you were hopeless at the guitar.

In your defence, his constant torment didn’t help and with the edition of him being able to kiss and bite at your neck? You were certain pf two things. One, you would never be able to focus with him around ever again. Two, You were going to be just as cruel when it was time to decorate the cake.

Thank you so much for all the support! A part of me wanted to keep this going but I had to cap it somewhere to actually get it out

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