#steddie crack fic

[stevebabey]

this is pure stupid hell crack that took more time than it should’ve to finish BUT i’m ready 2 release it from my drafts <3 this is actually technically written partially w @corrodedcoughin in mind bcos i think u will mighty enjoy it! for cockney eddie!

It comes with the territory, the accents.

Drama kid or dungeon-master, either one could be credited with contributing heavily to his affinity for all of Eddie’s little voices.

There was the deep, low raspy one reserved for trolls in campaigns — and a nasally high one he used for goblins to pair. Wise wizards giving out crucial advice sometimes had a strong Scottish drawl to their words. And Dwarfs? Always English.

So, yeah, Eddie has a couple different accents in his different repertoire. Pulls them out as he needs — a regal tone when referring to Hawkin’s very own royalty or a buried Southern twang used when he’s in trouble with Wayne. The most common is a shoddy Cockney accent for when any conversation dips too far towards awkward or boring.

It's why it's not so surprising anymore when they just... slip out sometimes.

He's learned more now, when specifically not to do it (Mrs. Donnell had not found his plea for a re-sit, in a heavy Irish accent, endearing in the slightest). But with friends who know Eddie, they know the accents come along too.

Steve fucking loves them.

The first time one had taken over his voice, some New Yorker twang to carry a joke, Steve had laughed so hard he’d snorted. And god, had Eddie lit up at the noise— loved knowing that, deep down Steve Harrington had a delicious wonderful ugly laugh that he only showed to people he trusted.

Basically, it’s hardly news to Steve then, all of Eddie’s little voices.

But well, even Eddie didn’t expect… okay, the truth is he never expected to be in this situation at all.

It’s a Wednesday evening when it happens. Steve is over round the trailer like he is every Wednesday, keeping Eddie company while Wayne is out on the double night shift.

It originally had started out as ensuring wounds were checked and dressed properly — considering half of them had scaled up his back, where Eddie couldn’t reach — for the both of them. Then, when technically Eddie could manage the worst of his words, Steve was still coming around. Dustin’s insistence, he’d said.

Then it was… because Eddie asked Steve to come around, to stay a little longer.

So, Steve Harrington is in his kitchen and it’s a Wednesday ritual that they have together and that’s not even the weird part of the evening.

(And somehow, neither is the fact that Steve is, as of a few months ago, his boyfriend.)

Steve’s cooking. Something simmers low on the scarlet glowing hob, bubbling quietly and releasing aromas of spices that percolate into the Autumn evening air.

Eddie feels his stomach growl in its own twist of hunger as he follows his nose. With one hand still scrubbing a towel against his wet hair, he ambles down the hall, fresh out the shower, ready for love — be it the form of food or, he thinks giddily, kisses.

Steve’s not watching the food as Eddie enters, his eyes fixed somewhere across the room. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, an indication of his deep thought.

Eddie grins, approaching without any attempt of being sneaky, (Steve’s as good as comatose when he’s distracted as he’d found) and jabs his boyfriend’s calf with his toe.

“Thinking mighty hard there, Stevie. That’s dangerous.”

Steve jolts, snapping out of his thoughts. He straightens up automatically, then seems to recall the company he’s keeping, and relaxes back down.

He scowls affectionately at Eddie’s barefoot, still jabbing into his leg, and reaches out to flick it with his finger.

“Dickhead.”

Eddie’s faster. He dances away and laughs at the instinctual pout that forms on Steve’s lips.

“What ponders thy mind, hm?” Eddie drawls, a lilt of a Regency style accent in his voice. He sinks into one of the kitchen chairs and drops his task. The towel hangs over his neck, his damp curls resting against it.

Steve seems to jolt again at that, his shoulders rising for a moment. He spins, picking up the wooden spoon beside the stove to swirl the contents of their dinner around. Eddie admires him, broad shoulders and long back, ripe for his taking. Silently, he sighs dreamily on the inside.

“Just… what movie we’re gonna watch tonight.” Steve says unconvincingly. “I’m not doing another re-watch of the Fly.” He adds lamely, an attempt at his usual bitch.

Eddie lets him have it. With one final squeeze of the towel, trying to wring out all the droplets in his hair, Eddie abandons it on the chair as he stands. He waltzes forward, into Steve’s space, and hooks his chin over the other's shoulder.

“You know, that’s what you said last time.”

Steve side-eyes him, his eyes narrowing into a minuscule glare; bitch personified. Eddie grins. Then bats his eyelashes.

It makes Steve laugh, shrugging Eddie’s weight off politely as he gives their dinner another stir. There’s still this tenseness to his frame. Though, maybe it's one Eddie can only notice because he’s paying such close attention.

“Alrightttttt,” He pretends to relent dramatically, his hands coming up to give Steve’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’ll let you pick the movie tonight.”

He drops his hands back to his sides, smarmy grin already plastered on as Steve turns to face him, the wooden spoon placed down on the bench.

“Oh, you’ll let me, will you?” He gives this incredulous look, even if there is this playfulness toying at the corners at his lips.

“Uh huh,” Eddie affirms with a severe nod, then begins counting on his fingers as he lists off. “No badgering, wailing, complaining, of any sorts I—“

Suddenly, Steve’s reaching out, his deft hands reaching out to snag the waistband of Eddie’s pyjama pants. It supposed to be a smooth move he’s used countless times before; fingers looped through belt loops to pull a girl in for a kiss. It usually works like a charm.

Except, there’s no belt loops— and when Steve tucks his fingers beneath the waistband and tugs him forward, Eddie shrieks.

“Fucking christ, Steve!” He bats Steve’s hands back without thinking. Steve holds them up defensively.

“Sorry! I was just—”

“What are you doing sticking your hands in my pants?!”

“It was a move!” Steve insists, voice a little whiney. “God, you’re dramatic- I was trying to pull you closer, numb-nuts.”

“Oooh,” Eddie switches up in an instant, hands shooting out to grab Steve’s own. He pulls them forward and settles them on his own waist, shuffling in closer like he hadn’t just shrieked a minute earlier. “Continue.”

Steve chuckles, delight peeking through on his face. His hands, large and slender, curl around the skin of Eddie’s waist and Christ, he’s still not used to that. Eddie’s too focused on repressing his shiver to see the shadow of nervousness cross Steve’s face.

“I was actually thinkin’ about,” Steve starts lowly, eyes skirting off Eddie’s face, over his shoulder. His fingers tighten their grip. “How—”

He sucks in a breath, like drawing in courage, and meets Eddie’s gaze. “About how much I love you.”

There’s the smallest tremble to his voice, giving away the immense emotion behind the words.

And here’s the situation that Eddie never expected to be in, ever. His breath catches, his eyes widen — his heartstrings tangle and knot themselves as he soaks in Steve’s admittance. Love, love, love — he loves me.

His lips part, a raspy noise escaping as he tries to compute, tries to think of anything to say because the longer he stays silent, the more crushed Steve’s expression becomes. And then—

“Well, I luv ya too.”

The words fall out, thick in that godawful Cockney accent.

Steve's face doesn't change but Eddie's does, contorting in an amalgamation of pure cringe and panic as embarrassment crawls beneath his skin. He slaps his hand over his own mouth as if it can take back his awful reply to being told he's loved by Steve.

"I—" He starts, speaking through his fingers, except it still comes out in a funny accent. Eddie squeaks, his grip over his mouth tightening, brown eyes wide in his panic. Oh God, never in stupid silly life has his accents come back to bite him in the ass so magnificently.

"I'm so sorry," Eddie whispers-yells in his regular voice, finally dragging his hands off his face sluggishly. "Jesus H Christ, I didn't— that wasn't making fun of you, I— oh god, you know that happens when I'm nervous sometimes. Shit. Shit, I'm so sorry, Steve."

Steve hasn't moved, his hands still resting on the small of Eddie's waist. His expression is guarded, nothing betrayed. His dark eyes scan across Eddie's face and just before he speaks, the smallest glimmer of amusement glitters across his face.

"Well," Steve begins, heaving a faux large sigh. His hands squeeze comfortingly at Eddie's waist again. Eddie who is still frozen, still cursing himself internally, still echoing around the apparently true fact that Steve loves him— well, maybe not anymore with how awfully Eddie responded.

And then Steve opens his mouth and the most appalling attempt at some accent comes out. It makes his words all garbled and Steve's pink in the face, obviously embarrassed but trying to commit to some shoddy Scottish when he says, "Aye, that's al'right."

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

The moment of silence is broken as laughter seizes him, a guffaw bursting from his lips and holy fuck, Eddie loves him so much. Steve laughs too, the two of them relaxing and sinking into one another. Eddie's hands, previously fluttering and unsure, find their natural place curled in underneath Steve's jaw and when he leans in, he's fighting off his laughter. His grin is unbearably wide, cheeks aching.

Steve's got this shine in his eye, his hands sliding further around to pull Eddie in closer, his pink lips quirked in delight. Eddie practically purrs, so close to kissing him but not quite closing the gap.

"Yep," He says, eyes bright as they bounce over Steve's face to drink in his boyfriend's love-soaked expression. He loves him. Steve loves him. Eddie sounds as lovesick as he feels when he whispers, "It's decided. I think you're it for me, Stevie-baby."

He presses forward, lets his mouth find their home in the curve of Steve's lips. It's warm like nothing he's ever felt before, softened by their gooey-grins of love. It's an in love kiss.

"Even if you're terrible at accents." He murmurs against Steve's mouth.

"Shut up."

Steve hisses, but he’s still grinning. The dinner bubbles behind them, still cooking away behind them. "Like I'm ever going to let you live that down."

Eddie finds he doesn't really mind all that much — God forbid his boyfriend ever remind him they're in love.

"Shut up," He still says, then sticks out his tongue, like he's ten years old. "You love me."

"I do." Steve admits easily, his fingertips dancing along the small of Eddie's back. Eddie has to tuck his bottom lip behind his teeth to restrain his wild grin.

"And I love you." He says, properly this time, jabbing his finger into Steve's chest — so there's no absolutely mistaking it.

#watch me edit this over the next couple of days….. #cos it’s like a first draft #😚✌️ #it’s ok i just wanna post something before i go back offline for a bit while i do finals + get a JOB #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie crack fic #it honestly it but also isn’t lol #steddie fluff #[shrugs] enjoy i guess

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie and Steve slept together for the first time before Eddie left to travel with his band. Was it a weird time to start a relationship? Sure, but Eddie was just glad it happened at all. He called from the road as often as he could. It was a few weeks later that Eddie received a phone call from Steve. He had sounded off, so Eddie dropped everything and started heading back to Hawkins. He decided to surprise Steve with his favorite flowers.

Eddie crept into the house carefully, tip toeing, so he didn't make a sound. He heard voices coming from the living room. It sounded like Robin. Eddie grinned and crept closer, making sure he stayed hidden. Their conversation prevented him from jumping out.

"Okay, we're really going to do this," Steve said with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm pregnant. I got knocked up by Eddie."

"I knew it!" Robin said with a dramatic grasp. "I just want you to know that I'm not mad that you've made me a godmother at such a young age. I'm here for you. So, like what are you going to do?"

"I'm keeping the baby. I just don't know how I'm going to tell Eddie," Steve said. "He's been having such a fun time traveling with his band. I don't want to railroad that."

"Wait. . .you're serious," Robin said. "Um, okay, well, Eddie loves you, so I know for a fact that it wouldn't kill him that you're having his baby."

Eddie's eyes widened, and he crept out of the house. He ran towards his van and drove off, missing the other half of the conversation.

"I'm not fucking pregnant, Robin!" Steve yelled. "It's food poisoning."

"So, it's just a coincidence that you're getting sick a few weeks after having sex with Eddie?" Robin asked, narrowing her eyes. "Especially knowing how much you want to have kids."

"So, you think that I just willed it into existence?" Steve asked and then paused. "You know, my menstrual cycle was a little late this month."

"Really?!"

"No! I don't have a menstrual cycle, Robin!"

". . .is it because you're pregnant?"

"Robin!"

"Don't be so hormonal, Steven."

Meanwhile, Eddie had pulled off to the side of the road. He was freaking out, and it had nothing at all to do with the fact that he had driven all night, so he wasn't thinking straight. Steve was pregnant. Steve was having his baby. How in the fuck did this happen? The only way this could have happened would be because of the bat bites. They changed them, and now they could get pregnant. Oh God, does this mean that Eddie would have to start taking birth control?

"Focus, Munson," Eddie said and slapped his face. "This isn't about you. This is about Steve."

He drove off to the store and thought about the fact that he was going to be a dad. He smiled at the image of himself laying his head on Steve’s big belly and then of them holding their baby. Eddie hollered as he skipped into the store and went to the counter.

"Give me your biggest fucking bear," Eddie said with a grin.

"Uh, celebrating, sir?" The clerk asked.

"I'm going to be a daddy!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Congratulations, sir."

As he started walking out with his purchase, Dustin's head popped out from the aisle.

"Eddie?!"

Eddie strolled into Steve’s house, the bear in his arms.

"Honey, I'm home!" Eddie exclaimed, bursting into the living room.

"Eddie?!"

Steve grinned in surprise. He was laid on the couch, curled up under a blanket, while Robin sat in the recliner next to him.

"You sounded off on the phone, so I drove all night to come and see you," Eddie said, dropping to the floor next to him. "I'm yours now and forever."

"Aww," Robin said.

"You sound like you're proposing," Steve sniffled. "Is that bear for me?"

"If you want me to propose, but I'd want us to get married for the right reasons, you know, not just because I knocked you up," Eddie said.

"Wait. What?" Steve asked.

"I know, sweetheart. I overheard you when I came in here earlier, and I want you to know that I so want to be involved," Eddie said.

"I told you that I heard someone!" Steve exclaimed, sitting up. "Eddie, you heard half of that conversation. Did you miss the part where I told Robin I am not pregnant?"

"I am so tired," Eddie whined. "And I thought the bats. . ."

"Gave you guys babies instead of rabies?" Robin asked, and Eddie nodded.

"Shit, you did say you drove all night," Steve said. "Baby, get up here."

Eddie climbed on the couch behind him, dropping the bear, and buried his face into the pillow.

"Are you sure you're not pregnant?" Eddie asked sleepily.

"Do I need to take a fucking pregnancy test?" Steve asked, mostly to himself.

"It wouldn't hurt," Robin said.

Steve flipped her off as Eddie's snores drifted through the air. He laid down next to him and threw the blanket over the blanket over them.

"Robin. . .," Steve said slowly. "Are you being this way because you're obsessed with the Godfather, and you want to be the Godmother?"

". . .No."

Steve did not believe her.

Part two

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steve harrington #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie crack fic #just a bit of a crack fic #robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

#fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie au #roommate au #steddie fic #plant dad steve harrington #crack fic #christofern is their love fern #eddie won’t let it die #🪴

[steveshairychest]

it's 3am rn but I can't stop giggling imagining a Steddie Death Note au where Steve finds the deathnote and instead of using it for its intended purpose, he just uses it to take notes. He thinks the rules at the start of the book are just someone's strange way of customising the notebook and he assumes Eddie, the shinigami who dropped the notebook, is a hallucination from lack of sleep because he's been staying up late to study nearly every night.

"Write someone's name." Eddie practically begs him one afternoon because he's a God of death and he has nothing better to do than toy with a few humans lives, but Steve is ruining all his plans.

"Why would I write someone's name? This is algebra." Steve says as if he's talking to a child. He's now convinced Eddie is actually a ghost haunting him. He's really into the supernatural.

Eddie storms out of the human's room and spends the rest of his afternoon sitting next to Steve's roommate on the couch, who insists on rewatching the same movie every week.

When Steve comes down the stairs, he spies Eddie moping on the couch and says, "You look pretty pathetic right now. I thought you said you were a 'God of death'? Do gods of death sulk in people's apartments all the time or...?"

Robin stops eating her popcorn and looks at him as if he's grown three heads. "Steve, are you talking to me?"

"No, no, not you. My ghost. He has a god complex, and he's currently moping next to you."

#CRACK FIC ANYONE?!!! #it is now 4am and i have not slept at all #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4

[stevesbipanic]

Ok some people actually asked for a fic so here it is the March 15th Steddie fic.

Let it be known that Eddie Munson is drama kid.

Every play and musical that Hawkins High put together he was in, he even played Romeo in his junior year. He had 24/7 access to the drama room which he of course used for Hellfire and took great joy in using the props for his campaign, especially the throne.

Being a drama kid meant he had access to their old costumes too, this came in handy for Eddie's more public displays of goofiness. Eddie loved history and he loved making people laugh so it was no surprise to the Hellfire boys when on the 15th of March Eddie showed up in a full Roman getup complete with toga and laurel wreath.

Eddie had giggled to himself when he showed the boys his prop knife and told them his plan to "stab the emperor". He had just finished telling them when his victim came round the corner.

"Emperor Steve your rule of tyrany is over." Eddie cried as he jumped in Steve's way and "stabbed" him.

Steve blinked at Eddie and for a moment Eddie thought how annoying it'll be to get blood out of the toga when Steve punches him. Much to Eddie's suprise however, Steve giggles.

Eddie doesn't think he's heard a more adorable sound and it certainly didn't help to quell the metalheads crush on the jock.

"Oh no! Eddie how could you betray me this way, my closest advisor!" Steve plays along, Eddie blushes at Steve even remembering his name, his first name at that, the jocks usually call him Munson when they shove him around.

"Sorry Stevie but it had to be done, you're too pretty to have so much power." Eddie flirts pushing his luck.

"I knew my looks had an effect on you, Eds," Steve winks as he fake dies before laughing and continuing his walk down the hall.

Eddie was half frozen in shock at Steve flirting back that Gareth has to slap him back into reality.

"Dude was Harrington flirting with you!?"

"Boys, I think I've been murdered myself."

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #st4 #steddie #ides of march #julius caesar #eddie is a dork #ficlet #crack #st crack #crack fic

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14

After sandwiches, Nancy turns to El. “Could you look for Barb again?”

El sets her mouth and nods. She glances at Steve, who also nods and moves to set up the living room again.

Eddie follows him in and picks up the blindfold. Steve doesn’t try to hide his smirk. “You’ve got questions, I’m guessing?”

Eddie shrugs, leans against the couch. Watches the fabric as he pulls it through his fingers. Right hand, left hand. Right, left. “Mostly thinking I was wrong about you. Even more than I initially thought.”

Steve smiles. “We never got to have this conversation in the future, but I do know what your bandana means.” He stops for a second, watches Eddie’s hands. Right, left. “I’m offering… not an olive branch, per se, but…”

“An invitation?” Right, left.

“Exactly.” He shrugs. “If there’s anything you want to know…” he trails off, lets it hang in the air.

Eddie smiles. “Just one thing.” He holds it up in his left hand. “Who d’you use it on?”

Steve grins and turns away, looking for the remote. “Myself.” His smile falls. “Or- I did. You heard about the Russians, right?”

Eddie steps up beside him. Offers him the blindfold. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

Steve shrugs. “I’d say if I could go back in time, but…” he gestures around with a grin, letting it widen when Eddie chuckles. “Turns out going back in time does nothing for the memories I already have.”

Eddie frowns. “Kinda fucked up, isn’t it? Your body reverted back to its sixteen-year-old self, but your brain is still twenty.”

“I mean, imagine me coming to school one day looking like this, and the next I come in with scars, looking half a decade older. People would talk.”

Eddie hums. “You’re probably right. Still, it can’t be easy, having those mental reminders with none of the physical.”

Steve grins at him. “Did you miss the part where I don’t have concussions?”

Eddie snorts. “Fair enough. Still, I bet the scars looked badass.”

“Very metal,” Steve agrees. “Y’know, if you’d survived? We woulda had matching scars.” He trails a hand down his side. “The bats ripped us both open. Woulda gotten me if you, Robin and Nance hadn’t gotten there when you did. You took on a bat with nothing but an oar from a rowboat.” He turns to look at Eddie. “You told me once, how you’re a coward. How you run.” He shakes his head, looks away. “You didn’t. Not when it mattered. And you won’t this time.”

“Maybe this time we’ll have matching not-scars,” Eddie says, then points at Steve. “And no concussions.”

“And no concussions,” Steve parrots, laughing. “If we have to deal with the Russians again, though? I’m definitely doing something different.”

“We,” Eddie murmurs, shrugging when Steve looks at him. “We’ll do something different. You think any of these kids are gonna leave you alone after this? You think Eleven will leave you alone?”

“I hope not,” Steve answers honestly. “And you? You’re staying?”

Eddie shrugs again. “You said I didn’t run when it mattered. Who’s to say this doesn’t matter just as much? I’m not running.”

Steve smiles softly at him. “You’re a good man, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie levels him with a look. “I sell weed, Steve.”

Steve snorts. “I’m well aware, dude, I’ve bought from you before. If all goes well, I’m planning on buying another.”

Eddie laughs. “Hell, man, if it all goes well, I’ll give it to you, free of charge.”

Steve winks. “I’ll hold you to it,” he says, then leaves Eddie to process while he goes to get El.

Of course wherever El goes, Mike’s not far behind, which means he, Dustin and Lucas follow, and of course Nancy follows, and since everyone else is already in there, Jonathan and Robin follow too, so they all end up crammed in the living room again, with bated breaths and tightly-held hands, as El settles in front of the TV and puts the blindfold on.

Finally, she speaks. “I see her. She is alive.”

Nancy slumps into the couch and lets out a breath.

Then El speaks again. “She does not have very long.”

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#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual Steddie #slow burn #time travel fic #fix it fic #sorry not sorry for the ending #Steve: you’re a good man #Eddie: I sell weed #that interaction cracks me up even though I wrote it #starambles

[wynnyfryd]

🎵 Troll Toll 🎵

written for the @steddiemicrofic January prompt: ‘hole,’ 404 words | rated M | tags: future fic, crossover, crack treated ridiculously @griefabyss69 i hope you’re proud of yourself

Steve’s gonna kill Dustin.

Earlier this afternoon, on day five of visiting the kid in his new city (nevermind that Dustin’s pushing forty with two kids of his own; he’s always a kid to Steve), Eddie had started grumbling about how he wanted to see the real Philadelphia, not this “Liberty Bell Nic Cage pro America sanitized bullshit!” or whatever the fuck he liked to ramble about ever since his band got paid to do a commercial for Obama, and Dustin, who’d spent a month meticulously curating their tour of Philly’s finest cultural establishments, had rolled his eyes hard and pointed them toward a shady little Irish pub and hollered, “Fine! You want the real Philly? Go find her, you ungrateful dickheads, I’m going home!”

Which is how they found themselves here, at the worst goddamn musical Steve has ever seen.

“So, uh… just to be. So clear,” Eddie starts, dead-eyed stare into the middle distance as they filter out of the auditorium, the performers still screeching at each other loud enough to hear them from the sidewalk. He jams his thumb into the space between his furrowed brows. “Did I just take us to a play about child molestation? Is that- is that what just-?”

….Yeah.

Yeah, he definitely did — Steve’s pretty sure the little alcoholic guy who invited them to this thing spent most of act two singing about a boy’s hole — but Eddie looks as pale as the pair of goth weirdos standing behind them, so Steve aims for casual. Slurps the last of his Diet Coke and shrugs, “No, I think it was about, like, personal growth and shit.”

Eddie does not look reassured.

Behind him, the goth girl smacks a creepy balding guy upside the head and spits in a thick European accent, “Colin Robinson, why the hell did you bring us all the way to this terrible city just to watch this stee-upid bloody musical?”

“Oh, I don’t know, dahling,” the equally pale and dramatic man to her left chimes in, “I thought the Dayman reprise was, ah-rrRiveting-uh.”

Jesus Christ. Fucking theater people.

The balding guy doesn’t answer, but Steve swears he sees his eyes flash blue, and okay. Yeah, he’s had enough of the real city now, thank you very fucking much.

“Come on,” he says in a hush, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and trying his best to not freak out. “I’m calling us a cab.”

#steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjanuary #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #future fic #crossover #crack fic #wwdits #iasip #my writing #my fic

[vecnuthy]

gagged

@steddiemicrofic January prompt: hole || wc: 404 || E || crack fic inspired by this || doggy style, bottom Steve/top Eddie || shout out to @griefabyss69 for the hilarious riffing and input 🖤✨️

Of all the places to observe April Fool's Day, Eddie didn't expect the sex store on the side of the highway between Hawkins and Indianapolis to be one of them, but BOY was he tickled pinker than the fuzzy cuffs stacked next to the downright glorious display of novelty ball gags. Some had kazoos attached, others had party blowers, and Eddie, giddy, was now the proud owner of one of each.

"I'm not using that," Steve said through a surprised laugh upon their debut.

Eddie threw his arms down in exasperation, ever the dramatic. "You're always so noisy—"

Steve shot a look.

"—so just imagine how lovely you'd sound with these!"

Excellent recovery, Eddie thought, then blew through the hole in the ball gag, making the signature clangorous call of a kazoo cut through the kitchen.

Steve just stared at him, biting back a smile. Then his eyebrows pinched. "Did you wash that?"

"Obviously," Eddie lied.

The gags' spot in their closet remained undisturbed and forgotten for the next few months, until...

"What the—" Eddie froze, pulling an objecting whimper from Steve, bent-over and half-speared in front of him. "What was that?"

Steve stilled for a moment. The band of a ball gag pressed into the back of Steve's head, which Steve shook, then he flapped a hand back at Eddie to keep going.

"You sure?"

More impatient hand flapping, wow, okay.

Eddie set another grueling pace, getting lost in how Steve's ass ricocheted against his hips as he slid in and out of Steve's hole.

Steve writhed in front of him, shoulder blades going sharp as he tensed, groans vibrating through him in a way Eddie swore he could feel from the grip on his waist as he nailed Steve's prostate over and over and o—

HRRRNNNHH and another snap startled a yelp from Eddie. He pulled Steve's head back just enough to see a trio of party blowers sticking out from the ball in his mouth.

Eddie gaped

Then howled with laughter. Ridiculously infectious, soon Steve also cracked, trapping them both in a cycle of increasingly hysterical laughter that made the party blowers constantly furl and unfurl, making high-pitched honking whines with each manic breath Steve took.

Eddie pressed his forehead to Steve's shoulder, causing his dick rub maddeningly against Steve's prostate.

Steve groaned, grabbed at the sheets, then, then—

HRRRRRNNNNNHHH

Eddie screeched and coughed as Steve shuddered. "BABY, DID YOU JUST—?"

#eddie didn't see steve put the gag on #because steve didn't want him to #he pulls something from laughing so hard #steddie crack #steddie smut #steddiemicroficjanuary #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson

[scruppofficial]

Shout out to caramelcoffeexo on AO3 for these ✨iconic✨ end notes 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

The fic is beneath the milky twilight by caramelcoffeexo on AO3

If they have a tumblr account I don't know it, but if you do then tag them! They deserve credit for a good fic!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #eddie x steve #steddie #steve and eddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #bisexual steve harrington #steveddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie smut #steddie brainrot #steddie crack #steddie fic rec #steddie fic recs #steddie fluff #steven harrington #stevie harrington #stranger things fic #eddie and steve

[steddieunderdogfics]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52815520

‘what’s that sound? (there’s a funny man at my door)’ by jewishrat420 - I don’t usually read text fics, but this one had me laughing hysterically from start to finish, it’s so funny

what's that sound? (there's a funny man at my door) by jewishrat420

@jewishrat420

Rating: Mature

4,854 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Texting, text fic, chat fic, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Crack, Roommates, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Jewish Eddie Munson, Autistic Eddie Munson, Jewish Jonathan Byers, jewish argyle, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Awkward Eddie Munson, Lesbian Nancy Wheeler, genderfluid jonathan byers, they/he argyle, References to Sex, background ronance, background jargyle, Coming Out

Summary:

steve: You sure they didn’t forget to diagnose you with anything? eddie: god ur a bitch i wanna fuck u so bad steve: What. nancy: What. robin: What. jonathan: What. argyle: nice

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #modern au #roommates #fluff and crack #rated m #chat fic

[stevebabey]

As Steve had found, sleeping beside Eddie is perhaps the most fantastic nightmare-repellant out there.

It’s why it’s so surprising when Steve lurches out of his sleep, sudden and unexpected. He startles a bit, confusion muddling in his brain as it braces for the familiar wash of terror… that never comes.

Instead of feeling doused in cold water, gasping and aghast, there’s a grogginess moving through his veins— something else, besides a nightmare, has woken him up.

It takes him another second to realise it’s Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s hand on his face.

“Wuh?” Steve rasps out.

He blinks slowly, the ceiling bleeding into his field of vision. It’s still dark out, indicated by the faint amber glow of streetlights spilling through the slit in the curtains. As sleep trickles out of his system, confusion takes it place — what is Eddie’s hand doing on his face?

As if the thought summons the action, Eddie’s hand on his face shifts, splaying across his cheek with a soft slap. He pats Steve’s cheek once, twice.

“Gone skip to town, baby.” Eddie says loudly.

What? Steve feels his face screw up, brows drawn together as he tries to make sense what Eddie’s just said. Gone to what? He pushes the hand off his face and lifts his head, peering across the darkness to the other side of the bed.

“What?”

“The river rapids told ‘em.” Eddie says, making no sense.

Steve squints and, wait, holy shit, is Eddie still asleep? A grin sneaks onto his face and just to be sure, he leans across and waves his hand an inch above Eddie’s nose. Nothing, not even a twitch. Holy shit.

“Told them what?” Steve asks, shifting up on one elbow to see if Eddie will respond.

“Where to go.” Eddie says, matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising and falling as he says.

Steve snorts, his head ducking forward to smother it, even though Eddie seems far from waking. In fact, he snuffles a bit and turns his head towards Steve, nosing into the pillow. Steve can see his feet wiggling beneath the covers.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Mmf,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow. “Muffin man.”

“The muffin man?”

“What’s it to ya?”

Steve guffaws at the sudden Cockney accent that’s taken over Eddie’s voice. It makes him laugh so much that, incidentally, it’s loud enough to wake the other up. Steve’s pressing his face into his pillow, silent laughter shaking his frame, when Eddie’s bleary “…Steve?” reaches his ears.

He can’t stop laughing, a funny sounding squawk coming out his throat the moment he tries to explain. Eddie takes it the wrong way, a hand on Steve’s shoulder in a moment, that soft hushing voice dipped in sleep. “Steve? Baby? Was it another one?”

Steve rolls his face out so Eddie can see his stupid smile, can hear his laughter escaping out into the quiet night. He sees Eddie freeze as realisation moves slowly through him.

“You’re… laughing?”

It’s said with a breath of relief and Eddie’s entire body relaxes a bit. He swipes his hand up Steve’s shoulder, thumbing gently at his neck. “What? What’s s’funny?”

“You—” Steve manages to wheeze out one word. “—Sleeptalking.”

The two words are instantaneous, Eddie’s entire frame flopping down back onto the bed, bursting into his own sleepy giggles. Apparently, this is not the first time someone’s had this conversation with him.

“You fucking slept-talked, man.” Steve continues, his laughter finally beginning to die down. He’s still grinning, especially at the mirrored mutual, but slightly embarrassed, joy on Eddie’s face.

“It only happens sometimes,” Eddie admits bashfully. He grins across the pillow at Steve, wiping at one of his eyes tiredly. “When I sleep real deep.”

He lets out a deep yawn as if to prove it and Steve can’t help but yawn too. Damn, he was having a really good sleep— still, he can’t be mad at being woken for this.

“What exactly I’d say?”

“Ah, just,” Steve considers the truth and then discards it for a lie. “Talkin’ about how much you love my ass.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn red enough that it can be seen even in the dim light of the nighttime. He groans and buries his face in the pillow for a moment, before digging it back out. He darts across the sheets, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“Well, it’s true.” He says, before turning over. His voice is a little muffled with his face turned away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, if I get back to sleep quick enough, I’ll have the same dream.”

Steve’s sure he’s got that dopey smile on his face that labels him positively whipped. He snuggles closer anyways, hand crawling over the dip in Eddie’s waist to tuck in, his body pressing up flush behind Eddie’s, a pair of perfect spoons.

“I’ll let you get back to that then, baby.” Steve hums, planting his own kiss on Eddie’s shoulder. Sleep claims them both, Eddie first and Steve… much later. But, well, Steve figures he’s lost sleep over a lot of things worse than this.

—

saw sleeptalking (and walking) eddie in this piece by @dwobbitfromtheshire and i literally. i was thinking bout sleeptalking eddie all day like headcanon freaking accepted— that boy talks stupid shit in his sleep 🫶 hope it’s ok to tag u! i wanted to give u credit

#crack written in an hour 🫶 enjoy #i love sleepwalkers that make no sense it’s so funny to me for no reason #also why Does it make sense that eddie is a sleeptalker. out here planning campaigns in his sleep i bet #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Crack ficlet challenge: Who can come up with stupidest and funniest reasons for Steve and Eddie to kiss then discovering they like it?

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #steve harrington #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie crack fic #rueleigh's thoughts

[spicycinnabun]

There was no way Steve was going to agree to this (especially since he had already said no—not once, not twice, but three times), so Eddie did what he had to do: he pulled out the big guns.

Bambi eyes? Check. Quivering, pathetic pout? Check. Hands clasped together in the most humble, pleading way? Check.

“My beloved,” Eddie began. Syrupy, sweet voice? Check. “My beautiful boytoy, my hunky stud muffin, my gorgeous king, my main squeeze…please dress up as Princess Peach for our couples’ costume?”

Eddie wanted to be Bowser, damn it!

#fic #crackers #steddie drabble #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #crack fic #costume party #peaches peaches peaches peaches peaches #i looove youuu #oh #🍑 #batty4steddie #how will Steve respond? #👸

[steddie-island]

Extended Edition

I saw this post, immediately thought of Steddie, saw that other people had tagged Steddie, and I couldn't help myself. Enjoy! ao3

Steve was going to lose it. He was going to lose it and it was going to be all Eddie’s fucking fault. He’d lost track of how long they’d been there, with Eddie kneeling on the couch between his thighs. He wasn’t sure how long his hands had been tangled in those curls, trying to get Eddie to move where he needed him to move. 

Maybe letting Eddie put on Lord of the Rings, and then accepting his offer of a blowjob, had been a supremely bad idea. 

“Baby, you’re not paying attention—“ 

He groaned as Eddie’s head lifted again, as he lost the warmth of that mouth around his dick. He was ready to sob with how hard he was. With how fucking bad he needed to come. “Eddie—“

“No, no, this is important.” One of those ringed hands wrapped around his cock and stroked slowly while his other hand gestured towards the TV.

Steve was trying to listen, he really was, but seeing as how he had a hard time following along when he wasn’t distracted, and just then it felt like his brains were trying to liquify and spill out his ears, he was having a damn hard time. He watched the light play in Eddie’s eyes as he explained the inaccuracies, the foreshadowing, as he broke every goddamn second of the movie down like he was putting together a fucking master thesis on it. 

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice was bordering on a whine. He tugged Eddie’s hair to guide him back down.

Eddie grinned and sucked Steve back into his mouth. He used his throat, his tongue and fingers and the edge of his teeth to try and build Steve up.

It was working, too. Steve writhed and panted and whimpered Eddie’s name into the air above their heads. He was so close, almost there, fucking almost—

“Stevie, okay look at this—“ Eddie was off of him again, and Steve really was trying to follow along. Eddie’s spit was cooling on the heated skin of his dick as he went on, still talking animatedly. He was beautiful like this, when he went on and on about something he was really interested in. Even ready to lose his mind he could appreciate the excitement in Eddie’s voice and the way his hair whipped around his head.

Steve moved to sit up and tuck himself away. Eddie’s hand was there to stop him, to push him back, and then those lips were around him and Steve was hanging on for dear life. 

The sounds Eddie made just spurred him on. He got into it, swallowing and humming like he was just as into giving as Steve was into getting.

“Don’t stop,” Steve begged. He rolled up, tugged Eddie’s hair that much more. It was right there, right there—

“Oh you gotta watch this—“

“ Eddie—“ Steve released Eddie to run his hands over his face. It was the most exquisite kind of torture. “Honey, please, you’re killing me.”

“No, just— watch this and I’ll finish, okay?” Eddie was up then. He was off of the couch and gesticulating wildly at the television. 

Steve could only watch and stare. From the even messier curls to the swollen lips, you would have thought Eddie had been having spectacular sex and not just edging his boyfriend until he had tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Hell, maybe for Eddie that counted as spectacular sex. 

He didn’t have time to sit up this time before Eddie was bouncing back to the couch. He was taken down completely, could feel those warm lips around the base of his cock. 

“Oh fuck Eddie– that’s so good,” he panted. “Right there, sweetheart–” Eddie swallowed around him and brought a hand up to his balls, to add to the stimulation. Steve couldn’t even get lost in it again before Eddie was up and off of him. 

It went on like that for what felt like forever. Steve would get to the edge, would be a stroke away from toppling over and spilling down Eddie’s throat, and then his boyfriend would be pulling his attention back to the television. 

It only stopped when the disk came to an end and the blue glow of the DVD menu filled the living room with light. 

“Eddie, you know I love you. If you make me sit through another two hours without getting to come–” Eddie laughed and leaned in to peck his lips. “You’ve been such a good boy,” he said, his voice teasing just a little. “I won’t make you wait.” He wrapped his hand around Steve’s cock. When he didn’t have Steve buried in his throat he was stroking with his fingers. The pleasure was constant, and it was intense, and when Steve finally came it was with a shout and his back bowing off of the couch. 

Eddie worked him through it, and only when Steve pushed at his head did he pull off of his cock. “Was that good, Stevie sweetheart?” “‘Mazing.” Steve panted softly. He stared up at Eddie with warm eyes. 

“Good.” Eddie helped get Steve’s pants back into place and stood to put in the second disk. 

Steve had thought he was going to lose his mind. He wasn’t sure if he hadn’t actually lost part of it, at least for a few minutes there.

But as Eddie slipped behind him on the couch, as the movie started playing, as Eddie went off on another long tangent about the films and the books, Steve found he wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

#Steddie #Steddie fic #Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson #Crack fic #My writing #My fic

[stillbeatingheart]

thought about burning the past (chapter 2)

Also on ao3

Summary: Billy is a cat, Eddie is a bat, and Steve is just trying to keep everyone alive now that they are again.

I don't see any warnings that apply, but this is post Upside Down, established polycule, Harringroveson, also it's crack so don't take it seriously

Chapter one

Chapter two under the cut:

Billy's got it made.  No job.  No school.  No father.  No social constructs to adhere to.  So he’s gotta put up with Eddie’s constant chipping and chattering all day.  His attempt at stunts that he can’t pull off.  And his crash landings onto Billy’s belly.  But if Billy wants affection, all he has to do is climb up in Steve’s lap.  If he wants food, all he has to do is brush against Steve’s ankles.  If he wants attention without physical contact, he just hops up to the counter and knocks shit off to the floor.  His biggest expenditure of energy on any given day is having to move every so often to follow the sunny spots on the floor, or the couch, or the table, or the counter, or the bookshelf, or Steve’s bed.  It’s just really not that bad of a trade-off.  

Billy spent his life, after his mom left, being the sole focus of Neil’s anger.  Trying to fit into what his father expected of him.  Then he finally had a plan, a summer job, and a savings account to get the hell out of Hawkins and out of Neil’s house in the Fall for college.  Only to have the Upside Down fuck that all up.  He has no idea how long he was down there.  He spent all of it in some weird comatose state where his mind was bogged down with visions of things he wasn’t using his own eyes to see.  Surrounded by false reality and being kept alive by the Mind Flayer for some super special evil plan to take over the world or whatever stupid shit villains are always after.  Billy doesn’t care, he doesn’t need to know, and he wants no part of stopping it if it ever comes down to some heroic action necessary.  He already played the hero card by trying to fight the Spider Monster with his bare hands.  And he died.  Or sort of died.  

So why the hell would he want to go back to his human form?  That’d be stupid.  Nothing good has ever come of being in his skin.  Maybe the fur is the way to go.

Billy rolls over onto his back, kicks his legs up and closes his eyes.  That’s the other great part about being a cat, he can sleep.  He can sleep anywhere, any time, and in any position.  

Eddie doesn’t seem to be any worse or better off either.  He doesn’t seem in any rush to get back to his human body.  He’s terrible at those wings and Billy thinks it’s a waste that he’s the one who gets to fly.  Though if Billy had wings, he’d be the fuck out of here.  Going back to nature and surviving that way without the smallest trace of a human life at any point.  

Billy’s left back leg twitches and wakes him, just enough to blink one eye and make sure Munson is still hooked on the ceiling light and not about to dive-bomb Billy’s belly.  

He’s a good looking cat if he does say so himself.  Of course his soft fluff is irresistible to Eddie and Steve.  Steve has a bad habit of messing up the fur on the top of his head, running his palm back and forth like Billy is a dog asking for a head scratching.  But all Billy has to do is give him a glare, lick his paw and smooth the fur back out for him to get it.  Not that it stops him the next time.  The idiot always smiles when he’s scratching Billy’s head, so if he has to admit it, then it’s not bad trade.  

The licking though.  That’s the biggest downside.  Licking his own body to get clean, and getting fur-balls stuck in his throat.  Of course, he just pukes them up on Steve’s sock or in his shoe or something anyway, so at least it’s amusing.  For Billy.  And Billy is truly all that matters.

Eddie appears to still be sleeping.  Lazy fuck.  Billy closes his eye again and makes himself comfortable.  He wonders if Eddie is starting to miss anyone, maybe his uncle.  Billy only met him once but he seemed like an actual decent human being - which is a strange new concept for Billy when it comes to adult males.  And maybe Eddie’s missing his bandmates or his nerd club.  For being a freak and an outcast, the guy’s got a pretty big group of friends.  

Billy doesn’t miss a fucking soul.  He never did.  Except for Steve and Eddie.  When he was allowed reign over his own mind, it would always drift to the two of them.  Then one day Eddie appeared there too, Billy couldn’t tell him to run, to stop fighting and just get the fuck out.  He couldn’t tell Steve either.  Or any of the idiots that kept coming down there.  He couldn’t say a thing.  The one small mercy the Mind Flayer had on him was not to use him as a weapon against anyone other than Max.  Max is one thing, Billy knows she’s a tough bird, he’d never tell her that, but he knew that she’d see through the Mind Flayer’s shit when he was using Billy as a puppet.  If Billy had been used against Steve or Eddie, he’s not sure they’d have fared so well.  As it was, Eddie didn’t exactly fare well considering he also “died”. 

They couldn’t communicate with each other down there.  They could see each other through the Mind Flayer’s eyes though.  It was much worse watching Eddie trapped than it was being trapped.  

Then one day the captivity was severed and they were here, in Steve’s place, in bodies that didn’t belong to them.  It was like waking up after a super long and vivid nightmare only to realize that shit was still not right.  Billy doesn’t really care though, he’s not Upside Down anymore and being a cat just ain’t that bad.  

He refuses to speak though.  He did it once when they were alone, just to see if Eddie could understand him, and he sounded so fucking stupid meowing that he never tried it again.  He can’t control the purrs, doesn’t really mind them either since they’re truly soothing for both him and Steve.  Maybe Eddie too.  Not that he'd know since Eddie always chooses the moments of deep relaxation to interrupt in increasingly more obnoxious ways.  

Billy slants one eye open, sometimes just thinking of the asshole makes him act up, like Billy’s brain pokes Eddie’s with a little needle every time he dares think his name.  Eddie’s wing is over his face.  Perfect.

Billy gives in this time.  Allowing himself to fall deep into sleep, his purring the only sound in the room.  And then a bowling ball falls on his bared belly.

His body reacts, curving into a shape that only a cat body can, grabbing Munson by the head with his claws and pushing into his body with his back-feet.  Billy holds him there for a second, right in close to his face, bares his teeth and glares.  He waits until the cocky little light in Eddie’s eyes gives way to a tiny flash of real fear and then he pushes him away.  Eddie rolls across the floor, under the couch and squawks, the type of chatter that sounds like a little kid tattling on another.  

“Fuck you, Munson,” Billy sighs as he lowers himself back down to the ground on his side.  he flips his tail and waits.  Knowing he’ll come out soon, he’ll make himself small and act all shy while he approaches Billy, like his animal nature is what made him do it and he was not in control of his actions at all.

“Fuck you too,” Eddie responds and then nearly shouts, “Wait, I just understood you!” as he’s scrabbling across the floor on his wings and feet, “Did you understand me?  I just heard you, Billy, I got that, and it was in English, tell me you got me too.”

Billy lifts his paw, keeping his claws in and holding it in the air over Eddie’s head.  Eddie cowers back a bit, stands on his feet and opens his wings to show that he’s innocent at the moment and not planning any attacks.  He tilts his head to the side and wonders again, “Can you understand me?”

“Yes,” Billy admits begrudgingly, “and it was much more peaceful before that happened, so let’s go back to just chirps and shit.”

“Ha ha Hargrove,” Eddie rolls his eyes and takes a step closer.  Billy keeps his paw hovering in the space between them. “Okay, I get it, I’m annoying.  But I don’t deserve to die - again - just for disrupting your sleep.”

Billy snorts, pushes his claws out.

“Fine.  Fine.  Maybe I do considering I’ve been doing it daily for weeks now.  But it’s so funny when you startle, you make it like a full two inches off the ground and your’e just a big furball and not at all the intimidating figure you are as a man, I have to get my shots in when I can take them.” 

Billy sneers, showing his teeth and Eddie takes another step back.

“I didn’t say not at all intimidating, I only said not as intimidating.  Or something close to that, hey, that’s not what we should be focusing on.  We can understand each other!  Billy, we can understand each other!  That’s fucking metal, man, c’mon, we’re one step closer to figuring this all out, and I haven’t heard your voice in so, so long that I almost forgot what it sounded like so can you say something now and interrupt me so I know I’m not imagining this?”

“Fuck off Munson,” Billy responds but finally puts his paw down on the carpet, kneading into it a few times before laying his chin on top of it.  If bats could smile, Eddie’s dimples would be showing by now.  

He hobbles over on his wings and feet, nudges Billy’s face with his own and admits, “I love when you cuss me out, baby.”

Billy could probably admit that he missed hearing Eddie’s voice, that he missed being able to speak.  Instead, he licks his sandpaper tongue right up the center of Eddie’s face.  Eddie squawks in protest and spreads his wings out wide to throw them over Billy’s face and attach himself there.  

Inevitably it starts a brawl, they're still at it when Steve opens the door and steps in.  Steve sighs, runs a hand through his hair, points a finger at them and opens his mouth to reprimand but Eddie hollers, “He started it!”

“I doubt that,” Steve responds.  Then freezes.  Completely.  The fact that he just understood what Eddie said dawning on his face, his mouth falling open and his eyes bugging. “Wait, did you just… did I just… can we understand each other now?  Or I guess you’ve probably understood me the whole time, right?  But can I…”

“Yeah, baby!” Eddie responds from where he’s still trying to push Billy’s paw off his belly, pinning him to the floor.

Billy only releases him when Eddie decides to nip at his toe.  He whacks Eddie across the face with his claws in, then gets up to walk over and sit on his sunny window ledge.  He needs a bath after all those bat germs got all over him.  And he’s not sure how he feels about this new development.  Being one step closer to being human again seems a lot more negative than positive.  He wants no part in figuring it out.

chapter 3

Also on ao3

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #eddie munson #steddie #harringrove #mungrove #harringroveson #metalsandwich #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #bat eddie munson #cat billy hargrove #crack fic

[wynnyfryd]

UPDATE: FINISHED IT!!

you can read the full fic here:

preview of my new fic Monsoon Season (in which i saw this tweet and immediately took it so, so personally)

“Harrington, are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie asks as he slams a magazine down in front of Steve, rattling the coffee cup perched on the edge of the little round table.

Monsoon Season, the headline reads. Just who is the man behind America’s hottest new book series?

Steve’s eyes are far too full of mirth for Eddie’s liking. “They think it’s you, don’t they?”

“Of course they think it’s me, you jackass.” Eddie snatches the magazine back, sniffing indignantly as Steve openly laughs at him.

Eddie doesn’t have a workplace nemesis — does his best not to participate in all the petty office politics that go on in the publishing world, thank you very much — but ohhh, boy. If he did. If he did have one, it would be this fucking guy.

Steve fucking Harrington. Former King of Hawkins High, Current Pain in Eddie’s Ass, and not even in the fun way.

See, three years ago Eddie finally got his first big break — topped charts, stole hearts, and broke records with his swashbuckling adventure series aimed at the 10-13 year old crowd. He hadn’t ever really planned to become a children’s author, but hey, turns out he’s great at spinning a tale that a fifth grader can’t put down. Kids love him, parents love him, and now—

Well, now, parents hate him. Are two seconds away from calling for his fucking head. And that’s the whole problem, isn’t it?

One group of ravenous mommy blogger watchdogs becomes unwaveringly convinced that beloved children’s author Eddie Munson is secretly writing filthy gay erotica under the pen name Freddie Monsoon, and now his whole career is in jeopardy.

It’s not even a good pen name.

“A source close to Munson assures us this scorching erotica can’t be his doing,” the article in Eddie’s claw-like grip reads. “‘He’s stupid,’ our source tells us with a bright laugh and a wink, ‘but not that stupid.’”

You know who is that fucking stupid, though?

“You’re still here?” Steve asks mildly while Eddie glares some more.

He knows the pen name belongs to Steve, because one, Chrissy’s a gossip and told him the second she found out, and two, King Shithead himself told Eddie to his face. Gloated about it in this very coffee shop, actually; smirked over the lip of a chai latte while angry mothers protested with homemade signs on the sidewalk outside of the building.

“Yes, I’m still here! Why the hell are you doing this to me, man?”

Does he know how many angry emails Eddie’s gotten in the last hour alone? Seriously, what the fuck?

Steve slides another glance his way — sideways through hooded lids, some sadistic delight gleaming just below the veneer. “Because I like it when you’re flustered,” he smirks, and then he stands to collect his things. “See you tomorrow, Munson.”

#steddie #steddie fic #modern au #crack treated seriously #steve harrington #eddie munson #feral little shit 4 feral little shit #the spiritual successor to TITS! magazine #like #cannot express how stupid this fic is gonna be i can’t wait #(if you saw me promise to focus on more chapters of stardust au no tf you didn’t 😂) #my writing #my fics