#smitten eddie munson

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve just wanted to cure his loneliness and Eddie might have the right remedy for him after all.

Steve knew he shouldn't use drugs to numb his loneliness. Good omegas weren't supposed to do that.

Then again, good omegas wouldn't be left alone in a big empty house by their parents.

So there was no reason why he shouldn't sit at the infamous picnic table and wait for the town's drug dealer.

Somehow, he had underestimated Eddie Munson's bargaining skill greatly. After fifteen minutes of negotiation, he had ended up letting the alpha eat him out as an exchange for drugs.

And goddamn did Eddie Munson have a way with his mouth.

That was why Steve had ignored his parents' lessons about being a respectable omega and allowed Eddie to taste his virgin pussy every time he sought the alpha out.

It escalated when Eddie asked to finger him one day. Steve had been reluctant at first, because ew who knew what those hands had touched.

But he conceded eventually since Eddie was the only dealer in town (that he trusted).

Turned out, the combination of Eddie's tongue and fingers could make Steve squirt.

To think he used to live a life where he wasn't given such mind-blowing orgasms before was unbelievable. Because he knew he couldn't return to those dull days where he only had his dildos anymore.

Since the first time Steve gushed on Eddie's bed, he started going to the alpha's place more often.

And gradually, instead of slipping him those baggies, Eddie began slipping more fingers inside him.

"Are you insane?" Steve whined as the alpha's thumb nudged at his entrance.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart," Eddie lapped at his cocklet to get him relaxed. "It's gonna feel good when I'm inside you."

Steve bit back his moan as he writhed beneath the alpha's firm hands.

He always got worked up with how casual Eddie talked about fucking him. Like those fingers were somehow a substitute for the alpha's cock.

It did weird things to Steve's poor horny brain and he had to stop himself from begging for the alpha's knot every time they met.

He knew Eddie would fuck him good, but he had to keep his virginity intact.

All of his thoughts evaporated when Eddie's entire hand finally slid inside him.

"Oh my god," Steve gasped and arched his back. His body shook minutely while his cunt leaked a puddle on the sheet beneath.

It was too much, having an entire hand inside him. He was stretched to the seams, breathless and lightheaded in a way that no drugs had ever made him feel before.

"Good?" Eddie twisted his fist slowly, dark eyes tracing Steve's face like a hawk's.

"I–" He inhaled sharply when Eddie grazed his sweet spot. "I wouldn't s– say that."

"Better than your dildos?" Eddie chuckled at Steve's teary glare. "It's pretty obvious to me, Princess."

"What obvious?" Steve couldn't help but bite the bait. Knowing Eddie, it must be something ridiculous again.

Instead of answering, the alpha scratched lightly at that spot on his inner wall, making him mewl and tremble in pleasure.

But the friction wasn't enough for him to come. It was frustrating.

Eddie continued tormenting him like that until he was loose enough for the fist to move faster.

Even in his wildest dream, Steve would never expect to be fucked by someone's hand.

But there he was, drooling and shaking as Eddie fisted his pussy.

It was when Steve was cross-eyed and on the edge of crashing that Eddie finally leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"You're such a slut, baby.”

And Steve was done for.

He rolled his eyes back and let out a high-pitched moan as he spasmed and gushed messily on the already stained sheet.

His cocklet joined in and squirted, coating his belly with watery opalescent fluid.

"That's it, Babydoll," Eddie nipped the tip of his ear, sounding just as wrecked as he felt. "Be a good girl and come for your alpha's knot."

Steve whined at that.

He had been craving for the alpha's cock since they started messing around. But he had to preserve his purity for his future mate.

And it wasn't like Eddie would want to be involved with him outside of their make-shift game anyway.

Steve was aware of the hard truth: he was good to play with, but never good enough to be kept around.

Those people who had left him made it clear how unlovable he was.

He whimpered when Eddie pulled out carefully and glanced away shyly when the alpha placed a soft kiss on his hipbone.

Steve never questioned that gesture. Never asked aloud why Eddie would always do it every time they finished.

Because he feared Eddie would stop doing so if he pried too much.

It didn't matter what Steve wanted to know, he just kept his mouth shut and tried to ignore his flustering heart, tried to swallow all those chirps and trills that always threatened to slip out of him.

But Steve found it hard to maintain his cool when every time without fail, a hand would come up to stroke the side of his face gently.

"Look at me, Sweetheart."

Right, Eddie had a habit of checking in once the alpha was done liquifying Steve's brain with those deft fingers and that clever tongue.

Eddie would insist on helping clean him up and then wrapping him in a soft quilt that smelled of sunlight and apples.

Steve would be given a mug of warm milk and allowed to hang around until he decided to go home.

Much to his embarrassment, he had cried the first time Eddie took care of him.

Although he had gotten better at accepting the alpha's gratuitous kindness these days, he wasn't exactly immune to it.

When Steve complied, he was met with warm brown eyes that always gazed at him with things he wasn't allowed to hope for. Warmth, kindness, and adoration.

He suddenly didn't want this to end.

So he wasn't one to be blamed for what he blurted out, "Do you want to fuck me?"

Eddie only gave him an amused look, "I thought that ship had sailed a long time ago when I asked to eat you out, Bambi."

Steve blushed at that. Yeah, he realized how stupid his question was. But still, he had to make sure.

"My heat will arrive next week," he licked his lips nervously. "So do you wanna–"

Before he could finish, Eddie was on him and crowded him against the headboard.

"You said your little virgin pussy is exclusive to your future mate," the alpha narrowed his eyes at him, wild and dangerous. "What changed your heart?"

"You," Steve hissed. "It's you, Munson. I want you to be my alpha."

Eddie grasped his jaw and murmured hoarsely. "Say that again."

"I want you to be my alpha," Steve bit out.

"Again."

"I want you to be my alpha."

"Again."

"I want you to be my alpha."

"Again."

"I love you!" Steve shouted at that stupidly handsome face. "Fuck you, Munson!"

"Attagirl," Eddie finally smiled at him, pleased and smug before capturing him in a fervent kiss.

When they parted, the alpha pulled Steve into his lap and peppered him with small kisses.

"Love you too, sweet baby," Eddie pecked at the tip of his nose. "Been crazy about you for years."

Bracing his hands on broad shoulders, Steve raised his brow hopefully, "So my heat..?"

Eddie's finger came up to tap lightly at his mating gland. "Let me dine and wine you first, Angel. And then, when your heat passes, I'm gonna court you and we'll talk about our future together."

"Didn't know you'd be the old-fashioned type," Steve said teasingly.

"I'm not," Eddie shook his head and looked at him fondly. "But you deserve all the good things in the world, pretty baby. And if it means I have to spend months courting you, then so be it."

Steve let out a chirp at that.

It was so sudden and unexpected that he didn't have time to react.

But Eddie's pleased grumble had stopped him from overthinking.

"I think I'd like you to court me," Steve met those loving eyes and smiled softly. "Alpha."

In response, Eddie only pulled him into a tender kiss.

It seemed Steve had become addicted, not to the drugs, but to something better.

He had become addicted to Eddie Munson.

And it might be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #babygirl steve harrington #smitten eddie munson #steve ‘i don’t think i’d ever be good enough' harrington #eddie 'you're my fucking world baby' munson #sionewritesatmidnight

[loveinhawkins]

Bit by bit, Eddie finds out that Steve Harrington has many in-jokes going on. He falls in love a little more every time he discovers a new one.

Some are self-explanatory: Robin and Steve quipping obscure ice-cream orders back and forth to refer to annoying customers of yore at Scoops Ahoy. There’s other times where Steve will whisper, “Muppet,” and Robin will crack up, and Eddie will just look on with bemused affection. But he doesn’t need to know the context to get it: to see the way their eyes sparkle with mirth, how they shake with almost silent laughter, falling against each other in a diner booth—like siblings wholly unable to keep a straight face during a family dinner.

In school, Eddie came to know in-jokes as a source of exclusion, all too aware of eye rolls in the cafeteria, snide whispers. Oh, you weren’t there, you wouldn’t get it.

This is something far different. Something precious.

He understands without needing to be told; there are stories he does not know yet, but he can read them in Steve’s voice when he laughs and calls Dustin, “Roast Beef,” when he puts on funny voices, singing along to the radio to make Max laugh, when he echoes random phrases in a conversation and Lucas snorts, and it’s so clear that everything’s come from years of knowledge, years of friendship, this rich tapestry of knowing smiles.

Eddie loves it all. Feels so goddamn lucky that he’s here to witness it, to even be the slightest part of it—wants to reach back in the past, find the Steve who’s just starting the story of a lifetime and say you will love these kids, and I will love you for it, your past, your present, your future. Steve Harrington, it’s a fucking privilege to know you.

The first time Eddie is given an in-joke of his very own, is such a tiny thing: bored out of his mind, making pleasantries with the Wheelers, and Ted makes a passing comment from his armchair about how so-and-so from down the street has bought an RV, but they don’t know a damn thing about how to drive it, let alone park it on their driveway.

Steve smirks behind his hand, catches Eddie’s eye with a fleeting wink.

Oh, Eddie thinks.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know where to start with that, Mr Wheeler,” Steve says, voice level, but Eddie can hear the secret giggle, just for him.

“Well,” Eddie says, “maybe if someone got it started for you.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, grinning. “Maybe.”

He briefly nudges Eddie in the side, a soft brush. Warm skin. Leaning into each other, sharing a secret.

Here’s something no-one else knows. It’s our little joke. Our story. Ours.

And oh, Eddie wants. He wants.

#in-jokes as a love language ❤️ #smitten Eddie noticing everything about Steve ❤️ #so close to getting together vibes are my favourite. just on the cusp of love (but really having already fallen long ago) #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and robin #steve and the party

[flowercrowngods]

for prompt tag!

28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)

but also take your time 🫡🫂

in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours

When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 

But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 

Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 

The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.

God, where did Steve even unbury that? 

And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 

Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 

In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 

“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 

He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 

Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 

They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.

“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 

“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."

Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 

“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 

“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”

Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 

“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 

“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 

“Good?” 

Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 

“And you have a fever.” 

“Hmm. Still.” 

It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 

“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 

“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.

Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 

“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 

Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 

“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”

Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 

It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  

hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶

#steddie #steddie fic #sickfic #sick steve harrington #soft eddie munson #i feel like it's so rare for a prompt to vibe with me kjshd but this one was wonderful thank you nonnie! 🤍 #does this even qualify as sick fic if all they are is smitten and ridiculous? #pls i need steve in a woollen hat with bat ears okay #dio words

[morganbritton132]

Eddie and Steve are out on a little lunch date at a diner that Dustin swears up and down by, and Eddie is filming a video to send to Dustin saying that they’re there and they like the food.

He points the camera at Steve and says, “Stevie, what’s your final verdict?”

Steve, who has been distracted almost the entire video is like, “You’ve been clocked.”

“What?”

“Those girls over there. They’ve been looking at you for like, the last ten minutes,” Steve says thoughtfully and then hisses at Eddie when he turns around, “Don’t look!”

Eddie waves and then grins when they’re like ‘that’s really him!’ He tells them, “You can come and say hi if you wanna. You’re not bothering us.”

Eddie will never stop being amused by how eager fans are once you give them the go ahead. He is caught off guard but ultimately delighted when they bypass him immediately and go up to Steve like, “You teach math, right? Can you help us with our midterm?”

#Steve looks panicked at first and then is like yeah. yeah of course. what are we looking at? #and Eddie is like *twirling hair* smitten with his smart husband #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[hitlikehammers]

Post S4!Eddie Needs a Little Help

Good thing Steve's such an excellent nurse boyfriend? friend, huh?

I Could Be Your Nurse (or something)

Or: Five Times Eddie Has To Ask For Help, Plus One Time He Doesn’t Need It Anymore (but asks anyway) ✨ for @penny00dreadful 💜

🧊 one: drink 🧊

The first thing he clocks, when he surfaces back to the land of the living: he can’t move his fucking arms.

At first, he thinks he’s locked up, restrained somehow: cuffed, but he can’t even know that, he can’t even check because he can barely fucking move at all, he—

“Eddie,” he hears his name through white noise that’s tunneling his vision, that’s caving in with every blow his pounding heartbeat deals to the walls as they close closer—there’s beeping like a time bomb in the background but it’s not just his name, it’s the voice that speaks it: it cuts through. It bolsters the walls and shelters him from collapse as his eyes dart wild, seeking out the sound.

“Breathe,” plush lips and earnest eyes coax him, and Eddie feels his own eyes widen because: Steve goddamn Harrington.

Here.

“You can breathe, okay,” Steve’s saying and his eyes are bigger now, there’s a pleading in his tone and Eddie sees it happen before any sensation, any feeling comes with it: Steve’s got Eddie’s hand in his, cups it to his chest but never breaks from holding Eddie’s gaze and the first thing Eddie thinks he feels as a touch is the warm pressure of the chest under their joined hands lifting almost-too-strong, almost-too-full.

The things Eddie feels that have nothing to do with his five fucking senses—he’ll work those out later.

“Come on, with me, with me, yeah?” and Steve’s breathing deep and even and forced for it, keeping a punishingly intentional sort of time and Eddie realizes oh, hey, right: he does need to breathe and so the next thing that he feels is the tail-end of pain, sneaking up under a fog that hints at any to come when whatever’s blanketing the feeling gets lifted, taken away, but then Eddie’s zeroing in on Steve’s face again, gasping a little and fuck, but it hurts: but Steve.

Steve’s smiling at him, in a way Eddie doesn’t know he’s ever seen before; definitely never felt before for the way it points a direct hit to his sternum, all fuzzy and sunrise-gold, and he doesn’t know if it helps him or hurts him in trying to breathe, to get the rhythm back to is but it sure as shit kicks at his heart and he thinks that punches his lungs hard enough to do…something, because Steve’s smile just grows, and the warm-gold-glow starts to spread through Eddie as something bigger and brighter and fuller than the pain as Steve exhales once out-of-sync and Eddie feels it, how Steve presses his hand tighter to his chest for it and laughs a little around one single word:

“Yeah,” and then it’s back to deep breaths, carefully measured, and Eddie wants Steve to talk again, but his head’s getting clearer, his lungs remembering how to work right, and he feels things under his hand now where he didn’t before: soft sweater. Rabbit-quick heartbeat.

“Steve,” Eddie chokes it, drags the word across gravel and bleeds it out and he’s disgusted in an instant, horrified by the sound coming out of himbut before he can let the terror and the hurt swallow him, he sees Steve, who somehow found a way to grin broader, shine brighter.

“Hey,” he laughs it out with so much goddamn relief, so much feeling, that Eddie can’t help but melt into it; Steve must feel something in him, or maybe he just knows, because he’s gathering Eddie’s hand, flattening it as a palm against his chest to keep breathing, keep breathing, but then he’s reaching and there’s a gentle whisper of touch against Eddie’s left cheek, and it stings, and he knows he should feel more but it’s…it’s goodeven as it aches and he leans, fuck, he doesn’t think twice before he leans.

“God, it’s good to hear your voice,” Steve says and it’s so warm and honest and it’s fucking laughable because Eddie sounds goddamn abysmal, and his throat tries to push the laughter, even if it’s poorly placed, even if nothing really feels fucking funny about anything but the effort’s like sandpaper on glass, wretched and violent, and Steve’s eyes widen when Eddie flaps at his neck, but he’s already reaching for the side of the bed, and—

“Water?” He asks, holding up a pitcher and a clear plastic cup and Eddie bites his tongue, tries to remember breathing without Steve’s guiding hand and he almost manages as he nods and then tries to reach when Steve places the pitcher, cup in his hand but Eddie’s hand…

He can’t lift it right. His vision’s either totally fucked, or his hand is tremoring hard enough to make him dizzy. He can’t feel anything, again. He—

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is careful, gentle, but it’s firm: like it knows it’ll find steel to press against when Eddie meets his gaze and makes himself listen: he wants the glass. He can’t…he can’t reach for it, let alone hold it, let alone get the water to his mouth, and not all over everywhere else for the shaking. He doesn’t know if he’d feel the width and weight of the cup, or the wetness of the spill: he’s a mess, he’s broken, he’s totally fucked, what even if this, what is he, is this what it means to have survived, what is wrong with him—

“Look at me.”

Steve’s got that tender-pressed iron in his tone, the command less grating where it would make Eddie seethe—still does, the slightest bit but so far beneath everything else; beneath a sense of being cared for, being held close and then Steve’s hand is reaching for Eddie’s face again, brushing along his cheek and oh.

Oh, tears. He, he was—

“We almost lost you, Eds,” and it’s Steve that sounds choked for it, his voice wet and weeping with it and eyes gleaming just a little too bright and Eddie’s pulse trips to see it: proof that he means something. Proof that the wild things Eddie’d let himself imagine in the past days, in what he was so fucking sure were his last moments at all: they might still be wild, but they might also be things he’ll get to touch just an edge of, a gentle mercy of the corner of the things he spun up in his head.

“We almost lost you,” Steve says it again, and it’s sounds just as gutted, fucking…heartbroken, and for what, for Eddie? He, it’s—

“And you’re on a lot of medications, and you have a lot of injuries, and some of it’s gonna just take time and some of it’s gonna take more work, but Eddie,” Steve tilts his head, leans in and Eddie can feel the body heat of him from the chest on out: “Eddie, we are all here to help you, okay? No questions asked, we’re here to help,” and Steve’s eyes are a piercing kind of starfield, deep-dark but lightened by the fire burning: kinda mesmerizing even before he speaks again:

“Because we love you, all of us love you, and we are so fucking relieved you’re still here,” and there’s no question in it, no hesitation or resistance: it’s wholly felt and believed and Eddie reels a little for it because how and why, and the idea of all of them, and of Steve being included in the all-of-them, and love, of any kind, but love being a word no one fucking uses for a thing that’s small, or weak, or fleeting and just, just…

“And it’s not charity, or obligation, or pity,” and it’s like Steve can read him, can see his soul, the worst endings to the story that had drowned him in an instant when he couldn’t feel his fingers, when he couldn’t grasp a goddamn cup, before he could even stop to consider that he was already in the best possible ending, either way.

Because it was one he was still here to see.

“Kinda the opposite, really,” Steve’s slipping his fingers between Eddie’s atop his sweater; “because it kinda hurts when we’re not here to see you being okay,” and it’s so earnest, so sincere when he says it, when his voice goes low and faint like he doesn’t want to tempt the universe by letting it hear an unthinkable possibility that they’d dodged to by the skin of their teeth, but by the skin on their bones as sacrifice, scars to match and all:

“It hurts to be anywhere but here, where you’re okay, when we were so fucking afraid you wouldn’t be.”

And doesn’t that fucking sear for the slap of it in his face; doesn’t that goddamn sing in his veins that still have blood pumping through them, Jesus H. Christ.

“So,” Steve leans forward, draws Eddie’s touch somehow closer, has to almost be painful when all Eddie can process above the fog and the warmth is the breadth of Steve’s chest, and the thrum of his heartbeat as real-real-real, and there for Eddie to anchor himself in as being real, too.

“Will you let me help?”

Eddie’s eyes dart to where Steve’s placed the cup back on the side table, and has a hand near it waiting: for permission. He’s giving Eddie a choice, and there’s a version of Eddie, in a version of events not so far from these, here, but then so far from these here, that would fight harder at the idea of being coddled, of being invalided and made purposeless, fucking pointless for being wholly ripped of his ability to care for his own needs and wants, but this…

This isn’t that version.

So he nods, and Steve lets out a sigh Eddie can map from inhale to release, and he smiles like it’s a gift to him that Eddie lets him do this, lets him lift the lip of the cup to Eddie’s lips, careful and Eddie can feel it rest on tender flesh, something torn there too like so much else of him, and he drinks like manna from a heaven he doesn’t believe in, save that he thinks there’s something angelic, something godly in the tenderness of Steve’s movements, of his eyes on Eddie, of his heartbeat under Eddie’s touch: just him, there, present.

Like all the idly musings he’d allowed himself in the dark of a hellscape, in the moments he’d thought for sure would be his last: like those fleeting little fantasies may not have legs for themselves, but could grow into something just as good, or better even.

Because maybe they’ll be something true.

“Thank you,” Eddie manages to say, and it’s a whisper but it’s not something out of a horror film, so it’s an improvement after five careful swallows and Steve’s deft hand to wipe his bottom lip.

“Thank you for letting me,” Steve’s foolish enough, perfect enough to say; “it helps me, too.”

How, though? How, and more: how are they here like this, in this moment? Just—

“How’d I get out?” It’s an easier question to ask, so he feints that way instead.

“We carried you out.”

Vague.

“Who did?”

Steve only blinks, but his heart thumps an extra beat against Eddie’s fingertips.

“I did.”

Of course he did. Of course it was him.

“You’re,” Eddie licks his lips, closes his eyes; tries to figure out if he needs more water to keep going: no. No, he can do this.

“You’re okay?” he turns his hand just a slightest bit, doesn’t want to stop touching Steve but wants to press his hand to Steve’s the other way ‘round.

“Bats,” he manages to mouth, and Steve’s got the water to his lips again, now, carefully portioning his sips as he answers:

“Getting there, but I’m fine.”

Eddie wants to roll his eyes. Eddie wants to hold Steve to his chest and check his wounds himself. Eddie wants…

“Everyone else? Dustin?” he follows up because he can guess; Steve wouldn’t be so calm if something terrible had come of the battle, but still. “And—”

“Healing,” Steve’s quick to answer the half-formed questions, knows what Eddie’s concerned with most without trying and maybe it’s obvious, probably yeah it is but it feels warm in him again, through him like honey, thick and slow and sweet. “Max has got a rough road ahead, and it’s touch-and-go, because we’re pretty sure the things that are still wrong with her are tied up in Vecna,” Eddie frowns; regrets it for the pull and why is sensation coming back for hurting; “we didn’t wipe him out entirely, we lost this battle,” but then Steve’s hand is closer against his cheek: he doesn’t know if he leaned in or his Steve moved nearer but it doesn’t matter because Eddie will hurt far more than this, will take feeling for all it’s highs and lows, will claim it back and clutch it close if he also gets to feel Steve.

“But maybe more it’s like a draw, really, because it could have been such a bigger loss,” and Steve’s voice catches, and so does his breath where Eddie’s hand’s still charting; his pulse trips and Eddie frowns deeper, fuck the pain of it and whatever real damage it does above the waves of heavy narcotics, Steve’s eyes have gone glassy and his throat’s working harder around something thick, difficult, and the hand holding Eddie’s to Steve’s chest is rubbing the skin at his wrist near-raw for how hard and how metronomic it’s digging against Eddie’s veins, and his mouth’s parted and he’s staring at Eddie like—

Oh.

Oh, that’s what he meant, about…bigger losses.

Well, shit.

“And there’s still hope, y’know?” Steve’s voice comes quiet in comparison to where it was before but it’s still music. Still beautiful.

Eddie tries to swallow, wet his mouth on his own but he can’t so he turns eyes that can’t possibly look short of pleading, now, and blinks toward the cup at the bedside and Steve’s on it in an instant, easing it to Eddie’s mouth and tipping gently, painstaking in its care until Eddie pulls back and steels himself to try again with words, because these ones, he needs the to come out strong, and right:

“We’ll win the war.”

It’s scratchy, and probably more motion than sound but: it’s there, and it’s full and solid and Steve fucking beams for it:

“Yeah,” Steve speaks it like it’s fact, or like in saying it he’ll seal it as law and Eddie believes it just as sure, too, so:

“Yeah, we will.”

They will. They will.

They sit like that for a while, and Eddie feels the exertion of doing very little at all start to creep up on him and he must shift, or make a sound he can’t quite pick up himself to notice because Steve’s quick to jump:

“What else do you need?”

And Eddie’s drifting, and he doesn’t want to be a bother, a burden—useless—but Steve’s looking at him…the way Steve is looking at him?

It kinda prickles behind Eddie’s eyes, so he closes them, which feels like such a goddamn loss because then he can’t see Steve and he, he just…

“Can you,” Eddie starts to bite his lower lip but the sting rips through at the first hint of pressure so he bites at the tip of his tongue instead, and Steve’s already settling him; he never sat up, not truly, but Steve’s making sure he’s laid flat and comfortable, pillows arranged just so and Eddie can barely manage to pat the mattress when Steve retreats, but Steve knows him for that innocent gesture, too: grabs for his hand and Eddie remembers breathing well enough, now, to sigh in contentless, in fucking relief for the touch.

“Couldn’t feel,” he rasps a little; “hands, arms, when I first,” and then he opens his eyes, and locks gazes with Steve and forgets, for a second; forgets again, about the breathing.

And it’s okay; he’s okay with forgetting.

“Would it,” Eddie struggles with the words, throat start to feel a burn in it for the strain; “okay if—“

“The answer’s yes, man,” Steve’s soothing him, but also kind of shushing him, all in one go: “whatever it is, okay? So just ask, don’t like, pull the punch,” then Steve’s squeezing his hand, and murmuring deep and smooth and almost like a purr, a source of pure comfort just to hear, and then to feel through the air between them:

“‘Cause it’s not a punch, yeah?”

And: okay. Okay then, he can; Eddie can do this.

“Can you keep,” he barely breathes, but it’s all he remembers so he goes with it, hopes it’s enough: “holding? I can feel, when you’re…”

He trails off, but it’s…fine. It’s fine, because Steve never lets go once, just readjusts the hold of his hand on Eddie’s, of Eddie’s inside his, and settles next to him quiet and steadfast and kind of fucking everything and Eddie fades into the feeling of it with the last of his words like a vow:

“I’ll hold it until you wake back up, if you want.”

And if Eddie knows anything as sleep claims him: he knows that he wants.

>>> two: wash 🧼🫧🚿

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick

divider credits here & here

👾 title credit here

💫 ao3 link here

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #hurt/comfort #whump #fluff #happy ending #angst with a happy ending #soft #pining #slow burn #(ish) #steddie fic #deep devoted caretaker steve #smitten recovering post S4 eddie #domestic fluff #5+1 things #stranger things #gift fic #penny00dreadful

[catharusustulatus]

Steve runs hot and Eddie is always cold, but Eddie is the sun and Steve is the moon. Steve exercises every morning to keep in shape and Eddie can eat whatever he wants and not gain weight. Steve loves to make big romantic breakfasts and Eddie is barely hungry until 2 pm. Steve is horrible at board games but competitive and Eddie is laid back and always wins. Steve cooks full meals when he’s hungry and Eddie eats a bell pepper like an apple. Steve loves to sit on his roof and look at the stars and Eddie loves to sit on Steve’s roof and look at Steve.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things headcanon #steddie headcanon #stranger things headcanons #this short little diddy is dedicated to brain rot #imagine Steve and Eddie on the roof and they’re smitten with each other #and steve turns to look at Eddie and finds that he’s been looking at him the whole time #how long have you been staring? Steve asks #long enough says Eddie and then he dives into Steve’s lips #and then they make out in the cold until it’s time for bed #and Steve’s bedroom has never felt so good before in his life #also you know Steve is making like eggs Benedict out of a cookbook Mrs Henderson gave him for his birthday #and Eddie is like thank you I love it but also wet eggs??? #anyway they’re married now so there

[goggles-mcgee]

My love for Baker Steve is nothing new but I think up new au's like it's my job (I wish)

Steve opened up a cafe with Robin in Hawkins after all the Upside-down nonsense happened, Max sometimes had to use a cane on cold days, she had to wear glasses always now. Steve also had to wear glasses and he made it a point to take Max frame shopping so she could find frames that fit her and ones she actually wanted. Steve also has to wear a hearing aid in his left ear but some days he just prefers to not. Also his scars tend to hurt during the colder months and he has to bundle up, he makes sure the kids bundle up too. Steve and Robin bought a little house across from the new one that Joyce and Hopper bought. (Robin stays there when she comes back from college)

Steve had a lot of money that he had no idea about from his grandparents. Trusts and just money they left him after they both died. He only found out after the "earthquakes" and he had went through his parent's house to make sure nothing was too damaged. He ended up finding the papers about his trust funds and his inheritance from his grandparents while looking through and cleaning his father's study. Of course he went through the necessary steps to make sure the money went to him and setting up his own accounts. There was a bit of trouble with his parents but he had a lot of blackmail on them and they didn't want to go to court and ruin their image so things worked out for Steve.

Honestly he probably could have just lived off the money he had, still could, but he wanted to do something with himself. It was the kids who gave him the idea while they were packing the little things he had at his parents. He had baked them some treats for helping him move, just some simple raspberry jam drops, gingernut hedgehog slices, and neenish tarts. They had planned on ordering pizza for the day so the night before he baked the treats for everyone. They were all surprised that Steve could bake and the kids were absolutely furious that he had never baked for them before considering he baked "like a grandma, like seriously Steve these all taste like heaven!"

It was of course Dustin who first voiced the idea of Steve making money off his baking, from there it was all the kids shouting their agreements, even Mike. Everyone encouraged him, telling him he had the talent and well Steve didn't really know what else he could do and he didn't want to be stuck working minimum wage job to minimum wage job so he took the leap. And he was so happy he did.

Robin worked for him when she was back home from school, originally she had wanted to stay and just run the shop with Steve but he put his foot down. Yes they were codependent platonic soulmates but like hell was he going to let her stay in town with him when she had had plans to leave and go to school and discover herself. So they comprised with her going to school and when she was back she worked at the cafe/bakery and just helped him out however she could until she graduated. That was their deal, when she graduated, and if she still wanted to run the cafe/bakery with Steve then he would be all for it.

Steve adopted Max with the help of Dr Owen's after her mom kind of skipped town during the "earthquakes/serial killer" ordeal. She insists on helping out at the cafe when she can but Steve only let's her help out after she's finished with homework or if it's the weekend or a break. Same with all the other kiddos.

By the way he let the kids name the store.

They named it The AnTEAque Bakery & Cafe.

Steve loves it.

___________________

Eddie is a rockstar at this point. He and Wayne moved from Hawkins when he was a freshman because of a bullying incident that put Eddie in the hospital. Wayne didn't want his boy going back to that school with those boys who were barely given a slap on the wrist for what they had done, so with the help of a buddy they moved to Indianapolis. Not too far but far enough.

Eddie met his band mates there and well, he doesn't want to say it was easy going from there because it wasn't. They worked their asses off to get where they were now, it took a lot of sweat, a lot of fights, a lot of tears and some good old fashioned dumb luck where a music producer who was visiting family happened to be in the bar they were playing in.

Eddie was very grateful to be where he was. When he heard of the passing of Chrissy Cunningham he felt the need to visit Hawkins after Corroded Coffin came back from their recent tour that ended in their hometown Indianapolis. He remembered Chrissy from middle school, she had always been nice to him and had congratulated him on his solo guitar performance in the school talent show and he had of course complimented her dance which she had kindly corrected as a cheer routine. She would always wave to him in the hall and he remembered when he had been in the hospital his freshman year, she had sent him some flowers.

He figured he should return the favor and visit her grave and bring her some flowers. He vaguely remembered her saying during one class share time that her favorite color had been green and well they had been in Hawkins high and she had wanted to be a cheer leader so he planned on getting her a bouquet in the school colors.

It's during his visit in Hawkins that he gets sighted by some fans and has to run, usually he's all about interacting with fans but sometimes he just needs some alone time and he finds himself in this cozy little cafe. It has bookshelves along the walls with worn copies of books and a sign that said 'Take a Book, Leave a Book!' and a smaller shelf that honest to God had some board games. The tables didn't match each other and yet they all felt the same which was weird to say but Eddie likes it.

It was when he decided he would lay low here and get himself something to snack on that he saw him. His soulmate.

Okay not really but Eddie could dream and this guy looked like his dream man.

He had this ridiculously voluminous brown hair that looked so damn soft, the comfiest looking yellow sweater tucked into faded jeans beneath a pastel green apron and the most charming yet dorkiest pair of square glasses. He looked so tender and yet Eddie could see scars here and there and he found himself wanting to know where each and everyone came from just so he could kiss them. Maybe even lick them.

It took him an embarrassing amount of time to order and when he finally ate whatever he pointed to in the display case (lemon bar) he swore it was the best thing he had ever eaten. When he said as much he was gifted with the most precious sound of laughter from the man who thanked him and introduced himself as the owner Steve who made everything they sold.

Eddie was in love.

Eddie also realized this angel had absolutely no idea who he was.

He was even more in love.

He kept coming back to talk to Steve and to eat the heavenly baked treats that he would bring his band mates if he was feeling nice. It's when the kids are in the cafe after school having a study session that Eddie's cover is blown because, surprise, surprise, they are all big fans of Corroded Coffin. Steve was a little nervous after finding out but gets over it fast when he realized Eddie was still Eddie.

The kids are baffled at the fact the Party's Mom is being flirted with by a genuine Rockstar.

Eddie all the while is just readjusting his dreamlike with Steve to include all the man's kids.

Just a fluffy au with some sprinkled angst. Rockstar Eddie immediately smitten with Baker and Single Mother Steve.

Max basically having some major cool points in school because not only is her guardian Steve "The Hair" Harrington but also because her guardian owns the BEST bakery in town and if you mess with her you are banned for as long as she wants.

#steddie brainrot #steddie headcanon #steddie rants #steddie #steddie ficlet #great cook and baker steve headcanon lives in my heart and my brain #rockstar eddie munson #eddie is a smitten kitten at first sight #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson fluff #steve harrington #stranger things the party #robin buckley #max mayfield #dustin henderson #chrissy cunningham #stranger things au

[forestmossling]

“good old-fashioned lover boy” is SUCH a smitten! steve song. i just imagine him driving eddie somewhere in his car and dorkily, off-tune, serenading him with this song and looking at eddie with the biggest lovesick-est heart-eyes known to humankind and eddie just takes all of that in and melts into a puddle all over steve’s fancy upholstery.

#i feel like good old-fashioned lover boy is the epitome of loving a boy while also being a boy experience #idk what to tell you #i fucking love this song and i fucking love steve harrington #and they just go together #steve harrington #smitten steve is a dork and he can’t hide it from anyone #we all know #get steve harrington to be loved and appreciated agenda #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington hc #steve harrington headcanon #steddie headcanon #steddie hcs #queen band #freddie mercury #good old fashioned lover boy

[wormdebut]

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE WITH ME ✨ ENJOY - “I missed him, seriously? You two boneheads got to see him? That’s a cruel joke and I for one am not having a good time, in these hallowed walls.” Eddie was pressed. It was five-thirty in the morning on a god damned Saturday and Maxine was being insufferable.

“I thought you said pretty boy was shy! I for one thought he was endearingly feisty.” Max tossed her hip into Eddies side and she shuffled behind him to get espresso from the back.

Eddie let out a quick laugh, “Are you sure we are talking about the same pretty boy? My pretty boy? He said all of ten words, maybe. But god, he blushes so pretty.”

“Steve Harrington, right?” Max called from the back as Eddie was finishing setting up his beloved pastry display. The fluffy blueberry muffins were looking especially fruity this morning, and Eddie was ecstatic. He absolutely dropped one on the floor at that though.

“He has a last name? You know his last name? How the hell did you pull that off Mayfield?” Max had the beans tucked up against her shoulder as she crouched down to grab the fallen muffin, “Jeez Ed, you don’t have to throw things to get what you want. I asked him to join our new loyalty program. You know we need a first name, last name, phone number, sexual orientation, et cetera et cetera.”

Eddie stood frozen with the stupid floor muffin, “Sexual orien—what?” He shook his head to snap out of it, “Did you say phone number? Maxine Evelyn Mayfield, did you con my pretty boy out of his precious phone number—” He finally tossed the poor muffin into the trash and grabbed the beans out of his current favorite employees hands, pouring them into the machine hopper, “For little ol’ me?” He fluttered his eyes at her and she swatted at him to get him to absolutely cut that shit out.

“Of course I did, you flaming homosexual idiot.” Eddie loved Max, she was a sister to him really, and he never saw himself as someone that would get to have more family than just his uncle Wayne. He loved Wayne deeply, but Max had started working at the grind as soon as she turned sixteen, came out to him as bisexual within the same year and they had been inseparable since.

“You flatter me Red, you truly do, gimme gimme gimme the goods.”

“Calm down, Edward. Let us get the store open and then I’ll tell you what you want to know, Capiche?”

Eddie groaned as he walked away, “Come on Maxine, at least I call you by your government name. You know Edward isn’t even that.”

She laughed again, “Forgive me, Edison.”

——

“Max, why does our fearless leader keep staring out the window like he’s waiting for someone to return home from a year long journey?” Erica was not the only one that noticed Eddie peering out into the street with eyes wide like he was a kid that lost his mom at the grocery store. Max and Erica were settled at either machine and Eddie had blown through all the guest orders in the lobby, hoping to see the current object of his affections but he had had no luck.

“Because he’s waiting for his flavor of the week to return from the Abercrombie cataloger he seemingly walked out of.”

Erica huffed out a laugh, shaking her head as she muttered a brief ‘hopeless’ under her breath.

Eddie Munson wasn’t one to get caught up on any specific man, no. He kept his options open and certainly was not the dating type, not since—he just wasn’t a relationship guy. There was something about Steve though. Was he being irrational, having only seen the man once? Abso-fucking-lutely he was, but Eddie didn’t care. He knew the people around this city, he knew which regulars he could take out for a drink, he knew who not to talk to. Steve was new, and Steve was cute. So cute.

The business was slow for a Saturday, Eddie certainly didn’t mind. He was distracted. After checking on the girls, he ducked away to the back to pull his phone out. Max had given him the sticky note that had ‘Steve Harrington’ written on it, in surprisingly neat cursive with a number underneath. He was willing to get Max whatever she wanted, after the little stunt she pulled. The ‘Loyalty Program’, god Red was genius.

Eddie: So, I’ve got some good news, and I’ve got some bad news. Always gotta go with the bad first so, Max may or may not have lied about the loyalty program. My uncle is fairly old fashioned so we don’t subscribe to that kind of thing, but the good news is I get to shoot my shot, so drinks tonight, maybe? I know a couple cool places in the area if your interested?

Eddie sure as shit wasn’t shy and he wasn’t going to pretend to be. He smirked to himself as he sent the text off, but the smirk was just as quickly dropped when he realized he didn’t even say who he was.

Eddie: Shit! This is Eddie, by the way, the manager at The Daily Grind? I honestly can’t get you out of my head, to the point that my team stepped in, so like I said, this is me shooting my shot - E

Because business was slower than usual, Eddie’s day was slow as hell. The customers were an even mix of lovely and absolute hellions. One woman asked him to blend a drip coffee with ice? He did it of course, but he sure as fuck did not want to. A gentleman tried to snap at Max and she handled it fairly well on her own, but Eddie was waiting in the wings for her signal.

One-thirty couldn’t have come sooner. Eddie absolutely beamed as his beloved best friend and assistant manager for all intents and purposes blew in with her hair up in a bouncy high pony-tail, “Eddie Baby!” she cheered and she threw her arms around his neck with a airy laugh.

“Chrissy Angel!” Eddie smiled into her obnoxiously high pony tail, “Did you catch Henderson in the parking lot?”

“Yeah he was just pulling in. Day go okay?”

Chrissy Cunningham was bubbly and fierce. Eddie absolutely adored her. She followed behind Eddie as he sauntered into the back to catch her up. He wished her well, greleted Dustin as he made his way in. Erica was set to stay with them for the next few hours, but Chris and Dustn would be fine to close up by six.

Eddie walked Max to her car, and nothing short of cackled when she wished him well with his ‘lover boy’.

“Haven’t heard from him yet, Red, but you know I will keep you updated.” She waved him goodbye as she slid into her car. Eddie found his motorcycle, that he had parked by the back door and found himself lost in thought as he drove home.

Eddie really wasn’t a relationship guy. He was twenty-three and had had one relationship, Devon had been great. He had been. They had been together for two years, Eddie was eighteen and fresh out of high school, Devon was there for Eddie when he needed affection, when he needed someone to need him. Devon was older than Eddie, twenty-two when they started dating and he had clung to Eddie, it was unhealthy at the end. The facade Devon had put on had melted away, and it just—Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts as he parked in his apartment complex. His phone trilled and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face when he saw the text from ‘Shy Boy Stevie’.

Steve: Hey! Sorry to get back to you so late. Rob and I are still unpacking our apartment. I am not at all familiar with the area yet but would really love to see you again. Where do you want to meet?

Eddie: Excellent. Meet me at Bauman’s on Braker Street at 8? It’s a date sweet thing. - E

-

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if you wanna be added or removed just let me know ✨

#Eddie is smitten with ONE man #We have A DATE COMING BROTHERS #max is an icon honestly #EDISON MUNSON TRUTHER #is Steve shy? is Steve a bitch? He’s a shy bitch #the daily grind au #steddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steve harrington x Eddie munson #Eddie munson x Steve harrington #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #st fanfic #stranger things #chrissy cunningham #max mayfield #erica sinclair #dustin henderson #worm brain

[stevieschrodinger]

Potential trigger warnings; Steve is a child, Eddie is an adult alien; Eddie essentially claims Steve as his mate (absolutely nothing sexual happens) but Steve doesn't understand this and obviously can't consent. What happens is completely culturally acceptable to Eddie and totally normal. Discussion of, basically, biologically changing Steve on Eddie's say so for Eddie's convenience; again, completely normal and culturally acceptable to Eddie. Blink and you'll miss it mention of M/Preg. I don't know how else to TW this; proceed with caution.

“Here, Commodore.”

Ek’dli-ke examines the images carefully.

“You have been awarded the choice of any single individual,” the Operator reminds them needlessly. They know. Their injured appendages still throb in their bindings. They are still unmoored; unbalanced. They were repeatedly told they should not be moving about so soon.

They don't care.

“What are they again?” they ask, almost absently. They are vaguely aware that this is a great honor; access to brand new, malleable genetic material. It doesn’t feel like it though. For everything they lost in battle, the damage done to their still healing body, nothing would feel like adequate recompense for what occurred. This feels, if anything, like a bribe.

No one had expected them to survive; that's why they had been left. Clearly they greatly underestimated Ek’dli-ke. And now their silence is being purchased with a mating. What would the galactic host's population think if they found one of their own engineered warriors had been abandoned so blithely, and not only abandoned, but left for dead after a battle of the Host's own creation.

This feels like an insult, but Ek’dli-ke will take it anyway. Their career has been ended; their title is now nothing but a platitude. Their injuries are excessive; they will never battle again. They will never mate one of their own either; not with missing limbs and hideous injuries. They would never be accepted as they are; the strange little aliens on the viewer are now their only route to reproduction.

A fact their erstwhile superiors are no doubt fully aware of.

“Humans,” the operator speaks, voice everywhere and no where. The vibrations are irritating, almost painful, on their still healing membranes. “Their people put high value on certain metals; individuals were happy to give up their young.”

“In exchange for-” they force themselves to bite it off. Keep the disgust inside. What kind of species gives away their young for inanimate objects? Barbaric. They busy themselves with absorbing the data, forcing themselves to concentrate on the purpose of their visit, “their life spans are alarmingly short.”

“Easily rectified. They are malleable on a molecular level, the potential for change is...great.”

“Offspring?”

“Largely they are culturally divided into male and female, although it is difficult to tell the difference at this age while they are clothed; should you choose a male he can be adjusted to carry for you. Now is the ideal age to begin the process. However, you should be aware that if you do choose a male, they may need more intervention while they are gravid. It wouldn’t be a problem.”

Ek’dli-ke clicks in thought. “How long until mating for offspring is appropriate?”

“Physically at least two galactic cycles, however the culture of where this particular group was collected has a legal framework in place to protect those they consider too young to give fully informed consent. Should you choose to respect that it will be closer to four cycles.”

Ek’dli-ke starts to shrug, but the pain reminds them of their injuries and they abort the motion. It makes no difference to them, “I will respect it.”

Ek’dli-ke watches the Human young move about on the viewer a little longer; they appear to be playing, chasing one another. “I would need to move amongst them.”

“Of course,” the Operator moves without moving, and Ek’dli-ke hides their discomfort. They have always found the Operators to be highly unsettling.

They are...loud. And very small. They come in an array of colors, and most have strange tufts of fur growing out the top. Their eyes are too small, their appendages too few. Ek’dli-ke has no idea what use they will have with one of these as a mate.

Never the less, the Operators coding never lies; one of these will be appropriate.

They seem to shy away from them, understandable, Ek’dli-ke cannot imagine how they would appear to them. Apparently their species had barely made it to their nearest orbiting moon; they had not known other life even existed.

They must have gotten over their surprise very quickly.

One of them approaches, only to be pulled away by a different one. A little larger. Pale, with brownish fur on top. “Don’t! Monster!” Ek’dli-ke’s translator provides. The small human thinks he is protecting the others. The little Human is accurate with their assessment; Ek’dli-ke has been called far worse than a mere monster in battle.

Ek’dli-ke makes themselves smaller. Curls up and sits, pulling their appendages in close; they are still twice the height of the largest human young, “I will not harm you,” he tells the brave one. The protector. He reaches into his dress robes, “here.” They are watched carefully by the huddled group of young.

The brave one approaches cautiously. So small and delicate. Ek’dli-ke opens the package, it is but fructose and water made into brightly colored shapes, but the Operator had assured them that the Humans react favorably to food; particularly sweet foods. The brave one takes the package; returns to the others.

Ek’dli-ke watches as the small human shares them with the others before taking any for themselves. It summons an unfamiliar...fondness within Ek’dli-ke. They find themselves...charmed, by the selflessness. This Human will do well when raising young.

If they must choose one; then perhaps that one.

The Human returns, “is there more?”

Ek’dli-ke produces the second packet without question. This time they watch the small human consume a few themselves before sharing the remainder. Strange; they shove them into the same hole the noises come out of.

The brave one comes back, “what are you called?”

“Steve,” the small Human moves like he doesn’t yet fully have control over their own body. Fidgeting. Pulling at the generic white coverings they are wearing. The same as all the Humans are wearing.

“I am Ek’dli-ke.”

Steve’s face does something quite spectacular, scrunching up, before they uncertainly try, “Eddie?”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie will do. Come here.”

Steve’s skin is...surprisingly soft. Eddie pulls Steve closer, wrapping all parts of themselves gently around Steve so as not to startle them; Steve emits a noise, wriggling. It’s high pitched, irregular. Laughter, their translator implant provides; joy. Steve’s skin turns pinker, which is fascinating, and they gasp for breath, “stoppittickles!”

Ek’dli-ke goes still and Steve settles into the curve of their hold. Ek’dli-ke leans forward; tastes the skin he can reach. Steve starts wriggling again, laughing, “gross! Stoppit!”

Yes, Ek’dli-ke thinks approvingly as the knowing of Steve’s taste washes through them. It sinks deep; is accepted. Burns itself into every molecule.

Steve has a small wriggling appendage in his food and speech hole; the equivalent of a mouth, Ek’dli-ke’s translator provides again. Steve in turn touches the part of Ek’dli-ke they can reach leaving a trail of moisture behind. Ek’dli-ke shivers uncontrollably at the flavor Steve has gifted him. Steve goes limp, eyes going very very large, “oh,” he says.

Ek’dli-ke vibrates in agreement. Steve giggles again. Ek’dli-ke decides they like it.

The Operators were correct, and Steve has already returned their advances; their reaction to Ek’dli-ke’s taste is more than favorable. Steve is numbed, no doubt, if their receptors are working correctly.

If Humans even have them. Hopefully they do, Ek’dli-ke does not wish to cause Steve pain.

Ek’dli-ke brings forth his inner most limb; Steve watches wide eyed as it slithers along their skin. The two appendages Steve seems to use for touch separate into ten smaller, wriggling appendages at the end; Ek’dli-ke by passes those, just in case the next part causes harm.

He applies pressure further up; the fleshy stiff part, either side of where it bends. Steve makes a noise, but does not react unfavorably; they must have working receptors and the numbness from the first taste of their mate must be working. Ek’dli-ke watches their mark bloom on Steve’s pale skin. Steve’s body has accepted them without question; a more perfect match for mating Ek’dli-ke could not have asked for.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, rubbing at where the glittering fractals and facets now decorate a large swathe of their appendage, “pretty.”

Yes, Ek’dli-ke will take this one, a more beautiful and solid mating mark has never existed, they are certain, “it means you are mine.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #alien!eddie #child steve harrington #abduction #i guess? #kind of trafficking i think? #i dont know how to tag this #eddie is smitten AF though #eddies had a though time #alien culture #read the warnings #fan fic stuff #fic wip #ficlet #my fic #my fic writing #ao3 author

[decimalpointed]

Eddie's dad drags him along to steal his first car at age 13. Eddie's excited, nervous, but eager to please his father. He knows his mother wouldn't approve but she's passed out drunk again, so her opinion hadn't been relevant when his father had barged in and swooped him up.

His father takes him to a nice end of town, filled with mansions that are strung up with extravagant Christmas lights to display their wealth and holiday cheer. Eddie doesn't go to these neighborhoods, never has occasion to. They breeze by the residential area and wind up near shopping centers, boutiques with fancy polos and knick knacks.

When they pull into a packed parking lot, filled with last minute holiday shoppers, Eddie can feel nervous sweat dripping down his skin.

"We're gonna have a damn good Christmas this year." His father mumbles, greed in his eyes and breath sour with the stench of alcohol as he scans across the lot for fancy cars. He spots his mark. "There. That one Ed. Do you see it? No cameras pointed towards it. Snow still melting on the hood so engines still warm. Good solid Beemer, real nice car. Will sell for a pretty penny."

Eddie just nods, his fingers shaking as his eyes flit around the lot. There are people going to a from their cars. Its dark, with a gentle flurry of snow but anyone could see them in the well lit lot.

They get out of their own car, the doors sqeaky and rust blooming across the old metal. Eddie cringes at the sound. Its so loud. It feels like eyes are watching all around him. The air feels cold and thin, like its not reaching his lungs right even though he's practically panting.

His dad sidles up to the car, his tools in his pocket and it takes him less than 30 seconds to jimmy the driver side door open and he hits the unlock button so Eddie can scramble into the passenger side.

"Now look here son." His dad takes his tools out, lays them across his lap and gestures to the console. "You see these new fancy cars, there's a little latch right here. You gotta tug it till that snaps and it'll pop right out." He pops the plastic off, revealing the mess of wires beneath. "See easy as that." And then he hands the pliers to Eddie, who fumbles and almost drops them to the fancy floor mats.

"Now you cut this one here and we are gonna cut this other one here. Then we just need to spark em" Eddie follows the instructions, slow and unsteady because all he can register right now is his heartbeat slamming against his ribs.

He strips the wires back and his father takes over, grabs them and clicks the exposed metal together until the car roars to life. He gives a woop and Eddie can't help but give a shakey smile.

"That's it?" Eddie asks, because it feels too easy.

"That's it son." His fathers crooked teeth shine yellow in the streetlight as he grins.

His father puts the car in reverse, backing out and driving nice and easy. He gets them onto the main road and Eddie can finally feel his nerves start to calm.

"Now we are just gonna get this beauty over to Johnny's. Then-" his dad is interrupted by a sound, a small sleepy groan from the backseat and they both freeze.

"Dad? Are you done shopping alread-" The voice cuts off and Eddie swings around and his gaze finds a boy roughly his age, sitting up and looking like a deer in the headlights as he realizes it's not his father driving the car, but Eddie's. Fuck. Shit.

Eddie can feel the tension, flits his eyes to his father who is looking in the rear view mirror, his face shuddering into panic and then swiftly schooling his face into blankness.

"Who are you?" The boy asks wearily.

His father plasters on a fake smile. "Hey kiddo. Ran into your dad in the store with my boy here. He was saying how he was buying you Christmas gifts and didn't want you to see em before the big day. So he asked if I would run you home real quick."

The boys eyes narrow suspiciously and Eddie knows before he opens his mouth that he isn't buying the bullshit his dad is trying to sell him one bit. This has gone sideways and Eddie knows that his dad can't get caught again or he will go away for a long time and then it's just going to be Eddie and his mom who barely was a person these days, drowning herself in booze and pills and powder.

The boy lunges quickly to the door and Eddie hears the click of the locks as his dad beats the kid to it. The car swerves precariously as his dad is distracted.

"Let me out!" The boy yells, a tremor in his voice and the sound makes Eddie want to curl up and hide. This is so fucked. They are kidnapping him. This is a kidnapping.

"Dad-" Eddie begins to plead, to try to reason that this is too far, that he wants no part in this. Fuck the money. Fuck Christmas. He wants to go home and let this kid go home too.

His dad doesn't let him finish, just whirls around with like a cornered viper and lashes out. His fist hits the other kid right in the face and the sound is stark and violent. The boy cries out, immediately gushing blood from his nose. He's letting out terrified whimpers. Eddie is terrified too.

"Shut the fuck up!" His father screams at the boy, the car swerving dangerously and someone honks at them. Hot tears track down Eddie's face and he hiccups out a sob. His father rounds on him next, "Shut the fuck up!" He repeats, this time lashing out towards his own son.

The boy is cowering against the backseat, blood and tears on his face as Eddie shrinks into his own seat. What thw fuck is happening?

"Jesus fucking Christ. Shut up shut up shut up." His father is losing control, panicking. Eddie knows to keep himself scarce when his dad gets like this, violent and unpredictable, but he can't run while trapped in a moving car.

Eddie can't run away. His throat feels like its closing, like there's no oxygen in this stolen little car. Maybe the other kid sucked it up for himself. He can't run away. The doors are locked and they are kidnapping someone and he can't get away.

His father is shouting, rage in his tone but the words become jumbled and lost in the ringing thats taken over Eddie's ears. The other boy is crying, the sound of alarm like battery acid along his nerves, tingling and burning and awful.

Eddie doesn't register what he's doing until he has his hands on the wheel, trying to wrench it from his father's hold. There's screaming, and the blair of car horns, but Eddie just wants to make this night stop, wants to make the boy stop crying because it's making something primal in Eddie terrified, wants his father to just pull the car over because this is too fucking much.

The world goes sideways, crunching metal and glass and then Eddie feels the cold gentle snowfall against his face. There's warmth dripping from his hairline, and lights blur in and out of focus. Sound is muffled, and his brain sluggish when he turns to look around.

His father is there, head pushed against the shattered windshield at an awkward angle, red stark against his pale skin. His eyes are closed, his body still. Pain laces through Eddie and he cries out as he shifts away from the sight. The world is sluggish and slow. He smells pine and salty tangy blood.

He hears another whimper and turns and behind him the boy is still there, still huddled down and trembling with wide brown eyes in the backseat. Glass glitters in his hair. It looks kind of magical Eddie thinks in a daze.

A siren cuts through the fog he's in, snapping the world back into focus and it's like a dip into fridge waters. There's so much at once. Eddie can see the flash of red and blue, drawing closer.

Cops. Oh God cops. He can't be here. He looks to his dad, still unmoving and slumped against the steering wheel. He will never be able to drag him out in time. He won't be able to stop the cops from finding them like this.

He hears the boy shifting in the back and then the crunch of metal as he shoves the door open. Eddie scrambles out of the car right after, adrenaline punching through his veins.

The boy stands, legs trembling and puts his arms around himself to stave off the cold. The lights draw close, bathing him in the colors and once again Eddie's brain fizzles just a bit, caught off guard at the sight.

He doesn't have time to think, can't come up with a plan or a story to get his dad out of this. But he can run now. He can get away. The forest looms dark ahead of them where they've wrecked the car up against a row of pines.

Eddie stumbles up, worn out shoes sliding in the snow and he heads for the tree line. He stops just at the edge when he hears the boy again, a soft scared sound warbling out of his throat.

Fuck his father for getting them into this mess. Fuck his father for hitting the poor kid. Fuck his father for making another little boy cry. Eddie's used to it. Eddie can handle it. His heart bleeds to hear it come from someone else.

Even still, there's something inside him that knows he can't let his dad get caught kidnapping some kid.

Eddie whirls around and sprints to the boy, grabbing his hand tightly in his own. "Come on." He hisses to him. "We have to run now." And then he tugs him along into the dark safety of the forest as the lights pulls up, the cop car skidding to a stop.

"Wait, but-" the boy protests, but doesn't stop keeping pace behind Eddie.

"Please." Eddie pleads, because he doesn't know what they are doing, but he knows cops are bad news and he knows his dad will go to jail again but maybe it won't be so long if he doesn't have a fucking kidnapping charge to add to the car theft. "Please just trust me."

They lock eyes, brown mirrors of terror, and there's no reason to trust him at all, but he feels it, the chance that maybe he will.

And he does. The boy nods and goes quiet and picks up the pace, his chilled fingers squeezing onto Eddie's like a lifeline as they stumble through the woods.

They can't see the lights or hear the sirens anymore when they finally slow down. Their breath visible in the cold night air, both panting and shivering from the temperature and the nerves. Eddie can't find it in him to drop the warm point of contact between them.

Eddie doesn't know what he's going to do. He could go home to his mother, probly still numb to the world around her, but the cops would be there soon enough. He can probly stay at a friend's but then there's the problem of the kid he's dragging around that has a bloodied face and a quickly darkening bruise on his eye.

"Where are we going?" The boy asks him, loud in the quiet of the night.

"I-" Eddie stumbles over his words, grasping for an answer. "I dont know." He hears the resignation in his own voice, the lost quality.

The boy squeezes his fingers and its grounding. His tears have all dried. "It's okay. I dont know where to go either." He runs his other hand through his hair and some glass tumbles out and he giggles. Eddie smiles at him. Its an adorable sound. He knows its probly just the high from the adrenaline making they giddy but. Its nice. "Your dad is kinda scary. Is your mom nicer?"

"No." Eddie says automatically. "Well yeah, but not really. She doesnt say much"

"My parents don't say much either. To me. I mean they say alot, just not like. To me. " The boy trails off. "I'm Steve by the way."

"I'm Eddie." This is weird. Small talk with a boy he and his dad had unknowingly kidnapped. Really weird.

"My dad will be pissed about his car. He just bought it." Steve says and Eddie cringes.

"I'm sorry." That doesn't feel like enough. "I'm so fucking sorry. He, my dad, we just wanted to have a good Christmas. We didn't know you were there."

"Its okay." Steve says easily, like he wasn't just a sobbing mess. "I mean it sucks and my face hurts but. Well my dad probly didn't even remember I was in the car either. So. " He shrugs. "Is your head okay?"

Eddie had forgotten about his head, but he reaches up and feels the blood, sticky and congealed and clumping itchy. It hurts when he presses in tentatively, but not the worst he's ever had.

"I think its okay. It doesn't hurt much. Is your face okay?"

"Does it not look okay?" Steve looks a little panicked again, reaches up and touches his nose gingerly.

"No! No it looks good" Eddie tries to reassure. "Pretty as a peach Stevie. Just a little bruised. " and then he cringes because did he just say that?

"Oh." Eddie can't tell what kind of tone that is. Waits for the other boy to get angry, but he doesn't. Just keeps pace as they walk along.

"So should I just take you home?" Eddie asks, because they kinda need to make a plan. They can't keep wandering the woods all night.

But Steve's face kind of scrunches, then winces when there's pain at the movement. "Where are you gonna go?"

Eddie isn't sure. His mind scrambles to think of a place to go. Uncle Wayne lives in the next state over. He could probly stay there until things cool off a bit. His mother will come out of her daze to come get him eventually.

"I think im gonna go to my Uncles? He lives in Indiana."

"How are you gonna get all the way to Indiana?" Steve asks, eyes wide and brown and curious.

"Hitchhike? Or there might be a train that goes that way i could hop on." Its winter and cold, so maybe the train isn't the best idea. But well, he doesn't have much of a choice.

"That's so far away though." Steve's got concern glittering in his eyes. "Is that safe?"

"Safer than going home. The cops will see our footprints in the snow. They'll probly go to my house soon as they lock up my dad."

"Can I come?"

Eddie stops walking, sways in place. What? Steve stops beside him and turns to him.

"Why would you wanna come with me to Indiana? We just kidnapped you!"

"Well your dad kidnapped me technically, which apparently was an accident. You tried to stop him. You tried to protect me." Steve looks so earnest. He looks pretty in the moonlight, soft snowflakes falling around them. "And I can return the favor if I go with you. Protect you till you get to your uncles. Then I can call my parents to come get me."

And thats such a crazy leap of logic. Steve isn't any bigger than Eddie is, all gangly teenage limbs and hadn't really put up any fight while they were in the car. Its such a stupid idea.

But there's warmth blooming in Eddie's chest because yeah, it might be kinda nice to have some company. Safer for sure, and if they did take the train they could huddle together to keep warm instead of risking getting the wrong kind of trucker pulling over to give them a ride. Maybe they could even be friends.

Thats stupid. A rich boy being friends with trailer trash who tried to steal his car and then wrecked it with him in it. But no matter how stupid, it's a nice thought. Maybe they could just play pretend for a few days. They weren't too old for that yet.

"Okay. Yeah okay." A laugh bubbles out of him because its rediculous, but Steve laughs too. "You can be my knight in shining armor, escorting the runaway rogue after a heist gone sideways."

"You're weird." Steve says, but there's no malice in it. Just mirth tinged with confusion.

Eddie tightens his fingers around Steve's and turns them south, towards the rail yards where they can hop on a train.

(I just started typing and then this happened. Feel free to use this, expand on it, whatever. I just loved the idea of the boys being young runaways together, hopping trains and getting into rough situations and becoming codependent and ending up with Wayne taking them both in and them growing up together and pining since they were kids. I might continue this. I might not. We will see.)

#fanfic #stranger things #steve harrington #fanfic prompt #eddie munson #steddie #they were runaways #car theft #eddie is already smitten #bad parents #steves parents dont even realize he's gone #like until he calls from waynes #they just forgot about him #so he stays gone #meet cute #or meet horrible #maybe i can work billy into this #they meet him on the run too #oh gosh the ideas. #someone take this from me before i write more. for the love of god i have other things to write first

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve had long accepted that Carol always came up with the best or the worst idea. There was no between. But this time, he might have to thank her for telling him about Eddie Munson's talented mouth.

One night, when they were drunk and feeling funny, Carol had dared Steve to walk up to The Freak and demand the alpha eat him out.

“What’s the reward?” Steve had squinted at her.

“A mind-blowing orgasm,” Carol had wiggled her brows. “I heard Munson is really good with his mouth.”

Steve had snorted and that was the end of the topic.

He knew Carol hadn't meant it and had probably forgotten about the whole thing came the morning.

But every time he ran into Eddie at the school, his eyes would always linger a bit too long on those plump lips.

Carol’s words kept circling in his head like a broken record.

Munson is really good with his mouth.

Steve should’ve known better than to give in to his curiosity (and desire), but by the time he stood in Eddie’s bedroom, blushing and trying to not fumble around like an idiot, it had been too late to back out.

He had suggested the school’s bathroom stall at first, but the alpha just shook his head with a lopsided smile, “Princesses like you deserve to be taken to a bed.”

It was supposed to be mocking, but the way Eddie scrambled up to follow after him like a dog with a bone told Steve everything he needed to know.

So now, with Eddie’s head burying between his legs and hot tongue lapping at his cunt, Steve decided that Carol was right for once.

That mouth was really talented.

Steve had his fingers tangled in the mass of dark curls, thighs trembling and eyes rolling back as Eddie pinned him down and drank all of his slick from the very source.

“Eddie,” he mewled, seeing stars when the alpha licked at his sweet spot.

And then, his stomach tightened, the pulsating heat coursed through him and before he knew it, the blinding pleasure crashed over him like a bull.

It was his most intense orgasm and he was still shaking when Eddie pulled away, eyes dark and heavy with want.

“Again?” The alpha asked, hand stroking his hipbone slowly, temptingly.

Steve should’ve turned down the offer, told Eddie it was just a one-time thing, put on his briefs and slacks and gone on his way.

But Steve did none of that. He just nodded and spread his legs wider, “Please.”

It was all Eddie needed to kiss him on the forehead, “So polite. Such a good boy, aren't you?”

Steve let out a chirp but before he could feel embarrassed about it, Eddie kissed him again. This time, it was on his lips.

“Gonna treat you right, sweetheart.”

And Steve was helplessly charmed.

In hindsight, he should’ve seen it coming a mile away with how eager Eddie had been at his audacious request.

Because after three orgasms being wrung out of him, Eddie just kept going, sucking and licking and fucking Steve’s sensitive pussy with his tongue.

He didn't stop until Steve screamed his name and squirted all over his face, cross-eyed and delirious from the overstimulation.

Steve had been too out of it to register whatever the alpha tried to tell him afterward. When he regained his senses again, he found himself all cleaned up with his briefs on and tucked under a soft quilt that smelled of citrus and cigarettes.

It felt like coming home but Steve didn't want to get ahead of himself so he ignored the joyful purr from his inner omega and let his eyes wander, searching for a certain alpha instead.

As soon as he wondered where the hell Eddie was, the door opened and let the alpha in. He smiled teasingly when he caught Steve staring.

“Back to earth, Harrington?”

Steve frowned. He wanted to be ‘sweetheart’ again. But he just pushed through his sudden discomfort and sat up.

“Yeah, I gotta go,” he didn't bother meeting Eddie’s eyes as he tried to stand up on his wobbly legs.

And yet, he was taken off guard when Eddie was by his side within seconds and gently pushed him back down.

“Wha–”

The kiss was a surprise, but Steve wasn't picky so he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck and let out those happy trills and chirps.

Was he too easy to please? Perhaps.

Then again, Steve wasn't one to turn down his chance and if Eddie decided to give him what he wanted, he didn't see why he shouldn’t take it and run as far away as possible.

“God, you’re so sweet,” Eddie groaned once they parted. “Never taste anything as sweet as you.”

“Liar,” Steve pouted with a haughty sniff.

“I’m not,” Eddie pecked the corner of his lips repeatedly, as if couldn't have enough of him, as if to stave off the endless hunger. “Been crazy about you for years, sweetheart.”

“Really?” Steve arched his eyebrow and bit his lips to contain his stupid smile.

“Really really,” Eddie seemed to give up the charade and kissed him square on the lips again. “Just say the word and I’ll give you everything, baby boy.”

“Then fuck me,” Steve murmured against those plump lips. “And if you’re good, I might ride your knot later.”

Steve knew he had gotten Eddie right where he wanted when the alpha growled and flipped him over.

The next day, he walked to his locker with a limp and Carol just shot him an impressed look.

Honestly, Steve also felt pretty proud of himself.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #pining eddie munson #smitten eddie munson #steve ‘love at first orgasm’ harrington #eddie ‘silver tongue’ munson #sionewritesatmidnight

[icksam]

THEEEMMMM❤️❤️

steddie!!

ignore how steve has a cigarette but looks like he just woke up. also, apologies for eddie’s clothes? idk. they had a sleepover😋

also.. can u tell who i draw the most? lmao

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things fanart #fanart #eddie munson fanart #steddie fanart #smitten steve harrington

[eggscommunicate]

broke: eddie had a crush on steve since high school but was too scared to do anything about it cause steve was popular

woke: eddie started crushing on steve after ripping the demobat in half in the upside down

bespoke: steve crushes on eddie the second he's slammed into a wall with a broken bottle pressed to his throat

#u cannot tell me steve 'bottom' harrington didn't practically cream his jeans in that boathouse #he tied a bow nicely around that particular feeling and repressed the hell out of it #and in the safety of his own room and under the cover of darkness he touches himself to the feeling of glass to his neck #i got a lot of feelings about steve being absolutely smitten with eddie #steve craves eddie munson both carnally and romantically #oh i should probably tag this #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things

[pheeefly]

eddie deserved to meet season 3 steve thats it thats the post

#my man would've been SMITTEN #as we all were yknow #the world doesn't have enough fanfics about eddie being in st 3 tho #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st 4 #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie

[adorajane]

a summary from jane: eddie has the perfect hair for braiding, and luckily, you know just how to do so!

Eddie sits in front of you, twisting the rings on his fingers as you gently comb through his hair. His voice rings out in the quiet atmosphere, “D’you have anything I can do?”

You pause, leaning forward to get a peek at his pretty face, “Like, while I do your hair?”

“Yeah,” he leans back, flashing you a small smile, “Can’t let you have all the fun, right, babe?”

A dramatic gasp leaves your lips, and you playfully turn your head away with your eyes squeezed shut, “Are you calling me boring?”

He grins at your lighthearted antics, “Oh, very.”

You bite back a smile and shake your head. You always found yourself enjoying Eddie’s witty responses. With the brush still in your hand, you point at the acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of your room, “Well, if sitting still is such a treacherous task for the Eddie Munson, then you can play around with that.”

He quickly retrieves the guitar before settling back in his spot in front of you. He strums a chord, “Dunno know if the Eddie Munson would’ve survived without this.”

You lightly tug at his hair, “You’re such a baby.”

“Thought you were braiding my hair, babe. ‘S it really time to experiment with hair pulling?”

That only results in another light tug, and you take his head between your hands, turning it back towards your guitar, “Hush up, and play Madonna for your stylist.”

He taps his fingers against the guitar as you begin braiding his hair. You can hear the smile in his voice, “My personal stylist, huh?”

You let out a soft giggle at his smitten tone, “Only the very best. I’ll make you look so punk, babe.”

He slightly turns his head, glancing at the very colorful flower clips resting on your thigh, “Definitely.”

“Don’t sound so skeptical!” You tie up his first small braid and assure him, “You’ll like it.”

“I like everything you do, sweet thing.”

You let go of his braid with a sigh and press your cheek against his back with a short, but giddy laugh. A smile sticks to your face as you feel Eddie reach back and place his hand on your knee, rubbing his calloused thumb over the skin.

“Just being honest with you, sweetheart,” he says.

With another content sigh, you sit up straight, placing a flower clip in his hair as your stomach flutters with nothing but affection, “I love you, Eds.”

He’s quick to respond, “Love you too, baby.”

Your smile still hasn’t left your face as you reach over to your nightstand, grabbing one of your mirrors and handing it to Eddie, “Check it out.”

You watch as he examines himself, reaching up to take the braid between his fingers, “Looks sick, babe.”

“Told you that you’d like it.”

He moves the guitar off his lap, and the bed creaks as he turns around to face you. He wraps a gentle hand around your wrist, pulling you towards him. He leans in close, his other hand lightly brushing against your arm and sending shivers down your spine, “Already told you I like everything you do.”

You tilt your head, trying to think of something he might deem “bad”, “Even if I … steal your clothes?”

His lips quirk up, “That’s supposed to be a bad thing?”

You shrug, reaching up and tucking his hair behind his ear. You don’t miss the slight raise of his eyebrows at your doting actions before you speak, “I don’t know. What’s bad to you?”

He raises his eyebrows, “Tough question.” He mimics your earlier shrug, “I don’t know. Maybe my personal stylist requesting Madonna.”

You snort, shoving him, but he doesn’t budge, only tugging you closer with a growing grin. You mirror his smile before slowly sliding out of his grasp. You grab the guitar and place it in his lap, “I’d like to request you play Material Girl.”

#i am the one smitten for eddie and im not afraid to say it !!!! #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x gender neutral reader #x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #adorajane