OmG! OOOMMMGGG! 🥰😍❤❤😍 It's finally here!! I'm still trying to comprehend how amazing this is. My mind is going crazy and I stopped the clip like ten times in-between because I just couldn't believe that this is really happening. A story @lovelynim and I created got animated and I feel so proud about it. Their voices are so adorable and I'm really in love with it. 🥰😍🥰 The tickle scenes also made me blush so much and his laugh... ahhh no further words needed~ It's truely a masterpiece and I'm gonna rewatch it like ten times now. Huge thanks and a big, cuddly hug to @eliankrios for making this dream become a reality. 🫂🥰
STAY SAFE!! [ID: the Gilbert Baker pride flag with the words “Happy pride to all those who are unable to celebrate openly and safely. You are loved and seen!” in all-caps black text over it. /end ID]
a/n: will admit i’m not in my peak era atm, whether in writing not mentally so please enjoy this tiny crumb i have provided (also tagging @nhasablogg for funsies)
(Stranger Things; Steve/Eddie)
983 words
Nothing in his life could have prepared Steve for the amount of discoveries he was still going to make, even after officially asking Eddie to be his boyfriend. Or did Eddie ask Steve? Neither of them could remember that well, and regardless, it didn’t matter.
The only thing that did matter right in that moment, was that Steve was trying to get to sleep and Eddie had been hindering that very thing for almost the past two hours.
“Eds?”
“Hm? Oh. I thought you were asleep.”
Steve let out a groan and propped himself onto his elbows so he could glare at the one sprawled out beside him.
The Harringtons had left Hawkins on a ‘business trip’, which meant that Steve’s house was going to be empty for a few days. It also meant that any sleepovers were being moved from the Munson trailer and Eddie's cramped twin bed to Steve’s luxurious queen.
Perhaps it was the fact that Steve’s mattress was softer and less lumpy, or this neighbourhood always fell eerily quiet at night, or the missing hum of a nearby fridge. Or that Steve didn’t allow Eddie to smoke in the house under any circumstances. Whatever it was, Eddie always had a hard time winding down.
Once he was asleep, he slept like a baby. It was just getting him to be still enough to get to that point.
“I would be asleep if you stopped moving every ten seconds.” Steve wanted to be annoyed but when he looked at Eddie, all of it melted away. Those dark deer eyes stared at him all innocently, headphones pushing back tousled hair and a collection of doodles filling some scrap paper. Clearly Eddie had been trying to occupy himself.
Steve shook his head with a defeated little sigh before dropping his head to Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re a menace. What’re we gonna do with you, hm?” Soft lips met warm skin just where the cut-off sleeve revealed Eddie’s shoulder.
“Do with me? How about we start on the things you could do to me?” The smugness of his grin made it all the way to Eddie’s voice.
Steve laughed, shoulders shaking briefly as he lifted his head again. “Oh, yeah? Anything among that list that would tucker you out, perhaps? Cause that’s what we really need right now.”
Eddie just smirked, propping a hand behind his head once he had set his headphones aside. “Oh, most certainly.”
There was an expectant pause. “Okay… You’re not gonna tell me then?” Steve’s eyebrows rose slowly.
“Hm, I don’t think I will. Have to keep the mystery alive somehow after all these years, don’t I, Stevie-boy?”
Steve rolled his eyes, mainly to distract from the way his cheeks heated up whenever Eddie called him anything but his name. “Always so dramatic,” he muttered mostly to himself, placing a couple precise pinches near the other’s hip.
Immediately, Eddie’s arm shot down again with an audible gasp, hand catching Steve’s but it was too late. A full attack was already under way and nothing was going to stop it.
Steve ended up laughing along as Eddie writhed beneath him, and relished in the yelps and protests that came from vibrating digits between his ribs. “Was this anywhere on your list?” he asked, a playful glisten on his face. “Cause if not, it definitely should be.”
Eddie just let out a string of insults as a reply before being interrupted by his own shrieking laughter again. It wasn’t until a little later, a gentle claw fluttering over his belly and Steve’s face buried against his neck, that Eddie’s resolve seemed to run out.
The prickling of Steve’s light stubble against his sensitive neck had Eddie in a giggling fit, forcing him to breathe a little heavier. Until, out of nowhere, a desperate moan escaped.
Steve froze and time stopped. As Steve slowly lifted his head, Eddie was staring quite forcibly up at the ceiling. His face was almost emitting light, it was burning so much and out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see how Steve was tilting his head to the side in question.
“Please don’t tell me you heard that,” Eddie got out, voice barely over a whisper as he squeezed his eyes shut. Unfortunately that also meant he missed how the look of Steve’s face changed from one of delight to curiosity to pure mischief.
“Oh, but I did,” Steve replied in a low rumble. A smirk already tugged on the corner of his mouth when Eddie’s reaction was simply to whimper. “So, was it the neck or the belly?”
Eddie groaned loudly, slapping both hands over his face to hide the growing burn before giving a muffled reply.
“Huh? I didn’t quite catch that.” Steve’s fingers twitched ever so slightly, which had still been resting against Eddie’s stomach. Lightning fast, Eddie’s hands came crashing down to grip onto Steve’s. “Both! I said ‘both’, you dick!”
Steve laughed, a full toothy grin on his face. “That’s what I thought you said.” They grappled with each other’s hands for a bit until Steve put an end to it by pinning them above Eddie’s head. “Ready?”
There was something incredibly flustering about having Steve practically inches from his face, fully excited to explore this new facet of Eddie’s many quirks without any judgment or hesitation.
After almost an hour of exploration, they’d discovered that it wasn’t only those two specific spots that could draw out such a reaction from Eddie. Also, Steve found himself getting almost equally as excited on his end. But most importantly, they were both tuckered out by the end of that hour.
As they curled into each other, both with still a hint of a smile on their faces and a glowing warmth coming from their chests, Steve had only one single thought: Turns out, Eddie was the mystery keeping them both alive.
I just wanted to say regardless of whether you've seen the show that you're my favorite ST writer. I dont know how you capture the characters so well while further developing them perfectly but it's genuinely incredible. I must've read your steddie fics like 97 times just because I adore them <3 If you're still taking prompts, I'd love to maybe see Steve and Eddie! Maybe with "Oh this is too good to pass up" as the dialogue? Either way, you're incredible and I can't wait to read all your other work <3
Okay, wow this is VERY sweet ;w; You are so so kind anon. I think I'm getting better at writing them now after having practiced. Those first fics have a fond place in my heart for being the first ones, but every day I am tempted to rewrite them LMAO
anyways, I'm certainly far from perfect but I'm grateful that you enjoy them!! This warms my heart so much. I really do love writing them and the positive response to those fics made me wanna keep going and improve. Still haven't seen the show yet but honestly I'm chilling in this little niche I've carved for them.
Hopefully this fic makes you happy and pushes me a lil closer to being worthy of the honor of being your fav. Really hope you enjoy--I fuckin love these boys <3
...................
You can read this as a season three au or as season four. Either way, Steve and Eddie have a bitchy will they/won’t they rivalry situation going on. Eddie REALLY likes pushing Steve’s buttons.
It’s not unusual for Eddie to find his way to the Harrington house for some excuse or another, but he’ll admit it’s unusual to be invited. He tends to just appear and haunt Steve unasked. It’s more fun that way.
Steve had called him, muttering something about how Eddie needed to come pick up his vest because it ‘smelled like a depressed hippie’. Eddie had fired back that Steve’s room couldn’t possibly smell any better without it, and their usual bickering had Eddie leaving fifteen minutes later with a grin on his face.
He loves Steve. Messing with him, that is. So, naturally, when Eddie ascends the stairs and sees Steve dressed like a little schoolboy, he takes a minute to compose his best jokes.
“Ahoy, sailor.” Eddie whistles, leaning in the doorway to Steve’s room. He drinks in the Scoops Ahoy uniform and all it blessedly has to offer.
“Wh—oh, fuck off. It’s laundry day.” Steve rolls his eyes.
“Aye aye, cap’n.” Eddie salutes. Steve flips him off.
“Cool the attitude, sassy lost child.” Eddie snorts. There’s piles of clothes on every surface in the room, arranged in a way that suggests intention but would baffle even the most equipped psychologist. Eddie wants to ask about the system here, but he knows he’s no better, so he just watches Steve flit around with a little pout on his face.
“You look like Donald Duck’s worst cousin.” Eddie snickers into his fist.
“You done?” Steve puts his hands on his hips.
“For now.” Eddie shrugs. Steve huffs.
Steve keeps rooting through the piles on the floor--slow enough to be mesmerizing, but fast enough where he’s clearly looking for something specific. Oh, his vest. Laundry. Eddie scans the room until, aha--he spots it hanging over the back of Steve’s desk chair, smooth and loved. Striking, compared to the state of everything else. Eddie smiles before he can catch himself.
“My vest is over there.” Eddie jerks a thumb towards Steve’s desk.
“Yeah, I see that.” Steve gives him a perplexed look. He shakes his head and keeps drifting through the clothes.
“Then what are you looking for?” Eddie ventures, stepping into the room properly. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t shrug his vest on. It feels like a conclusion of business, a visual excuse for Steve to kick him out despite the olive branch he’s inexplicably extended.
“A shirt. Robin’s got a date to impress.” Steve sorts through a pile. He looks between a yellow sweater and a green one, sighs, and tosses them both aside.
“By wearing…your clothes?”
“Yes, Munson, keep up.” Steve puts a hand on his hip. “She’s gonna be here eventually, probably freaking out, and I wanna give her two options. Just two. She’s gotta look good, but she’s gotta be comfortable.”
“Right.” Eddie nods slowly, as if this makes sense.
“Hey, make yourself useful. I’ve got this shirt, uhm, dark blue? With a little stripe? If you find it, let me know.” Steve flaps a hand at him. Eddie knows precisely the shirt--it fits Steve distractingly well.
“I’ll get right on that, sweetheart.” Eddie flops backwards on the bed. Steve shoots him a withering look. Eddie gives his most charming smile and folds his arms behind his head.
God, he loves this part of their little dance. The way Steve looks at him, the undeniable fondness buried beneath the exasperation—it’s a thrill.
Steve tugs at a shirt underneath Eddie’s body, but he can’t get it free. He heaves a belabored sigh.
“Do you mind?” Steve’s eyebrow twitches.
“Not at all. I’m enjoying myself immensely.” Eddie smirks.
“If you stretch out my shirt, I’m gonna push you in the goddamn pool. Get up!” Steve jabs Eddie in the side. Eddie giggles and flinches violently.
Steve Harrington is looking at him as if he’s the best present he’s ever received, and while some deep and unacknowledged part of Eddie does flips at the sight, it’s terrifying.
“Oh, this is too good to pass up.” Steve crawls onto the bed after him, his devilish grin curling wider by the second. Eddie’s face burns and he scrambles to flee, but Steve’s already on top of him.
“Don’t you dare, Harring—aaah!” Eddie’s soul and dignity flee him in a high-pitched shriek.
“Holy shit. I’m barely touching you.” Steve staccato pokes him everywhere he can reach, quick and light, and Eddie can’t stop the giggles bursting from him in waves. He wants to think of something witty to say, but it tickles, and Steve’s smirking—it’s a lot to ask of man under these conditions.
Steve starts tickling him in earnest, his fingers skittering wherever they can reach. When Steve trips up his ribs, Eddie arches like he’s being hit with a defibrillator. He smushes his face into his hands, hoping maybe he’ll smother himself and they can call this a day, but Steve tuts at him and pulls his hands away from his face.
“No way you’re this ticklish,” Steve says again—does he really need to rub it in—and gives Eddie’s sides a curious squeeze. Eddie shrieks and flips himself over, attempting to crawl towards freedom.
“Where’re you going?” Steve drags Eddie back into place by his waist. He makes an incoherent whining noise that breaks off into laughter and goes limp on the bed. He tries to roll back over but Steve is solid on top of him. Being face-down gives him the small mercy of being able to hide his face while he cackles.
God, he didn’t even know that the back of someone’s ribs could be ticklish. Holy hell.
Eddie grabs at Steve’s knee and releases a desperate jumble of syllables. Steve yelps and falls backwards off the bed.
Eddie peeks at him over the edge of the bed, laughter petering off into gentle embers. Steve stares up at him, wide-eyed. Eddie backtracks, trying to figure out why a simple touch would’ve elicited such a big reac—oh. Oh.
Steve’s halfway down the stairs before Eddie even realizes he’s gone.
“Hey! Get back here!” Eddie skids after him two stairs at a time, swiping at the back of Steve’s shirt.
Eddie tackles Steve over the back of the couch, both of them a tangle of screeching, flailing limbs. Steve’s stronger but Eddie is scrappy, having long since abandoned his self-preservation instincts. Steve tries to roll them over and Eddie goes limp. Steve grunts under the deadweight, and it gives Eddie the two seconds he needs to clamber on top of him properly.
“Now—“ Eddie finally wrestles Steve down, huffing a lock of hair out of his eyes— “What the everloving fuck was that?”
“Nothing.” Steve’s poker face is good, but Eddie can see right through that easy smile. He walks his fingers across Steve’s stomach. Steve inhales sharply.
“Didn’t sound like nothing.” Eddie raises his eyebrows innocently. Steve narrows his eyes at him, but his fake smile is very slowly twitching into a real one.
Spurred on, Eddie kneads into Steve’s stomach, gentle and a little clumsy. Steve trembles under him, wrenching a hand free just to cover his face. Little huffs and snickers wobble out of him.
“Dishing out what you can’t take? Oh, this is precious.” Eddie snickers. Steve shoves his hand into the side of his face to push him away. Eddie licks it.
Steve screeches, but that breaks the dam. The first beautiful sound from him is a snort. Eddie gasps happily, then laughs right along with Steve.
It’s not that Steve doesn’t laugh, he does, but it’s often the restrained chuckle that Eddie loves to give every royal NPC in his campaign. Eddie’s never heard anything like this, this bubbly rush littered with voice-cracks and little bouts of nose-scrunched hiccups. He didn’t know Steve was even capable of these kinds of noises.
The stupid little Scoops shirt rides up and Eddie takes advantage of bare skin. Steve squeals and goes boneless on the couch. He hits Eddie with the full brunt of his smile, unfiltered and radiant, and something in Eddie’s chest flutters.
“EddieEddieEddie--” Steve snorts again, and the speed at which his face turns scarlet suggests embarrassment. Eddie can’t imagine why.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Eddie reaches behind him and finds Steve’s knee, tickling just where the goofy shorts stop, and Steve wails. He curls his head into Eddie’s chest and seems to resign himself to die there. Eddie has absolutely no feelings about how warm Steve feels or the desperate little leg kick he does.
Steve grabs Eddie’s wrists and he relents, figuring the promise of future mischief is a sufficient tradeoff for a truce. Steve collapses back into the couch cushions with a delirious little giggle, rubbing his hands over his beaming face. Steve peeks at him overtop his hands, then snickers again.
The longer they sit here, both breathing a little hard, the longer Eddie has to notice the gentle warmth and curve of Steve’s eyes. A hysterical man would call them doe-like. Eddie accepts this new state of being and leans a little closer. His guitar pick necklace dangles over Steve’s chest. Steve’s jaw falls slack, eyes flitting to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s hair falls in a frizzy curtain around them both.
Eddie doesn’t see Robin so much as he hears her—the screech of disgust bounces off every wall. He pops his head up and they make direct, unfortunate eye contact. She shoots him an all-knowing look with her beady, accusatory little eyes and he gives her his most threatening zip it gesture.
Steve decides that that’s the moment to counterattack, sending a cackling Eddie toppling off the cushions and onto the floor. Steve slides down after him, ducking under a flailing arm and scribbling his fingers wherever he can reach. Eddie curls up like a pillbug. He can hear Robin saying something but it's unintelligible over the sound of his own laughter.
“I know, right?” Steve grins back at her, then looks back to Eddie. Softly.
Steve has the audacity to wink at him. Eddie files that little moment away for Tonight Eddie to scream into a pillow about, and instead focuses on launching a counter-counterattack that’ll save his life.
A/N: I challenged myself to write a short fic today, because I feel like I have a tendency to conflate quality with quantity. I hope you enjoy this cute little thing!
The rain battered the windows of House Harrington as Eddie and Steve studied in the living room. Well. Steve was studying. His community college courses were due to start in a few weeks and he was terrified that the few years he’d spent out of high school had made his brain incapable of returning to academic pursuits. Eddie, on the other hand, had brought The Two Towers to “study” in a show of solidarity. Unfortunately, it seemed that not even tales of hobbits and dwarves were enough to hold his attention that afternoon.
He was bored.
After reading the same page for twenty minutes, Eddie cast his book to the side with a sigh. Upon receiving no reaction from Steve, Eddie threw himself back over an arm of the couch like a Victorian lady and sighed again, louder this time. He cracked open one of his eyes just in time to see the minuscule quirk of Steve’s lips where he sat in the armchair. He gave a third, loud sigh, pushing himself backward on the arm of the couch so that his hair almost brushed the ground. He let his hands go limp and drag his arms down to the floor.
Steve looked at him appraisingly, soft smile bitten down, before shoving his books aside and catapulting himself on top of Eddie before he could blink.
“Steve? Wha-” Eddie cut himself off with a shriek as Steve wasted no time in vibrating his thumbs in the center of Eddie’s underarms. He tried to snap his arms (up? down?) to block Steve, but Steve expertly dodged his flailing limbs with a maniacal laugh and started scratching at Eddie’s top ribs.
“Shitshitshitshit fuck oh gohohohohohod,” Eddie cackled. “Whyhyhhyhyhyhy?”
“You just looked so ticklish, all stretched out like that,” Steve explained, finding the spaces in between his ribs that made Eddie howl madly. “Does the stretching make it worse?” He asked, punctuating the not-so-innocent question with ruthless scribbles.
“Fuhuhuhuhuck yohoOHOHOHOHOU,” Eddie yelled, tears running upside down into his eyebrows.
“Here, wait,” Steve said, before sliding down the slightest bit and rucking up Eddie’s shirt with one hand.
“Waitwaitwaitwait Stevie plehehehehease don’t do ihihiihihit,” Eddie pleaded.
“Awwww, but you looks so tasty,” Steve pouted, before returning both hands to Eddie’s ribs while his head dipped low to nibble at his waist.
Eddie’s honestly shocked his scream didn’t shatter glass.
It tickled so bad. It was horrible. Eddie found he almost didn’t want it to stop.
Steve let up, though, when Eddie’s laughter went silent, climbing off his hips and yanking Eddie’s ankles so that his whole body was once again on the couch. Steve scuffed a hand through Eddie’s hair, who was too focused on the fact that Steve manhandled him so easily to protest. Steve knelt down by Eddie’s head and continued running a calming hand through his hair, cooing nonsense into his ear. Eddie let his eyes flutter shut, and fell into sleep with a smile still on his face.
A/N: You guys get two in one day! Ahhhh I’m so sexy and cool.
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this before!” Eddie scoffed as he slipped the VHS into place, the legendary blue screen appearing on the television.
“What can I say? It was never my speed.” The hair shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not too much of a horror guy considering how much real shit I deal with.”
His legs had crossed, along with his arms over his chest. A natural pose for the sassy Steve Harrington.
Eddie let out a weak laugh, putting a hand on his side as he stood. The bats had seriously eaten the shit out of him, leaving scars everywhere. In the moment it was hell on earth, a severe near death experience. Now he saw it as a blessing in disguise. After all, chicks dig scars.
“Yeah, you’d be right about that. I think I’m all batted out.”
Steve couldn’t help but give a smirk as the freak sat beside him, giving a firm poke to the tattoos on his arm.
“Too bad you’re already tatted out.”
Steve’s finger lingered along the artistic skin, tracing up the row of bats in flight. Eddie felt a jolt of energy in his thigh, his cheeks dusting a gentle pink.
“Well…I can always get a cover up.”
“Did I say you need a cover up, Munson? It suits you. Punk freak.” Harrington scoffed, gently elbowing the other. It was a friendly nudge, a smile on his face as his attention went to the now ready movie.
Eddie was distracted by the lingering feeling of Steve’s finger on his skin. Goosebumps formed along his arm, his hair standing on end before rubbing his arm down to make the feeling disappear.
Steve noticed the antsy nature of his couch buddy and raised a brow.
“You good, man? The movie hasn’t even started yet and you’re squirming. Plus haven’t you said you’ve seen this sooooo many times?” Steve rolled his eyes with the emphasis, expecting some sort of reaction from the metal head. Though all Eddie did was laugh it off and start the movie from the top.
For a while, they just sat in silence on the couch, both fixated on the film. However, Steve was one to get antsy and distracted.
The hair looked over to his compatriot, furrowing his brow when no attention was paid his way. Slowly, he extended his hand, fingers tracing along Eddie’s tattoos once more.
Eddie jumped.
Noticeably.
Steve stopped his movements, studying the fear in Eddie’s eyes.
“Eddie…”
“W-What?”
“Are you….”
Eddie tensed, his ears burning beneath his wild hair.
Don’t. Don’t say it. Please for the fucking love of god, don’t say it.
“Ticklish?”
Fuck me…!
Eddie opened his mouth to deny the obviously true fact, but it was too late for him. Steve had wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist and dragged him into his lap.
Eddie tried his damnedest to struggle away, his flustered fuzzy thoughts making his flail around helplessly. Steve could only laugh, the wiggling causing Eddie’s shirt to ride up. A perfect opportunity.
“C-COLD!!”
Steve’s hands had slipped beneath the Hellfire fabric, his fingers spread across the toned Munson tummy.
“Oh, they’re cold? Well, you’re extremely warm. So I think I’ll keep them there. Unless…”
The fingers arched. Threatening to move across the sensitive skin.
“You want me to move them?”
Eddie let out a mixture of a flustered cough and a yelp of surprise, his hands shooting to grip Steve’s thighs.
“D-Don’t do it. Harrington, you shithead, don’t…” Eddie kept his voice low, attempting to keep it steady so he could intimidate the other.
“Don’t what? I’ll only stop if you tell me what not to do.”
Steve grinned, leaning his chin onto Eddie’s shoulder before-
“GHAYAHAHHA! F-FUHUHUK!! HA-HAHARRINGTON!”
“Oh, what ticklish sides! Your little waist dips are so sensitive!”
“Sh-Shut the fuhuhuck up! I hahahate you! G-God!” Eddie keeled over on himself, his feet stomping on the ground of his trailer. He began to grit his teeth, eyes shut tightly. He didn’t want to give Steve the joy of having him laugh. He had to keep it in. He had to be strong. After all, he was-
“Eddiiiie~ Eddie the ticklish~!” Steve cooed in his ear, his breath only adding to the torture.
Eddie. Squealed.
His body tensed, shooting up in a fury that his head smacked dead into Steve’s nose.
Upon impact, they both froze.
“Aauuugh….fuuuuck, Munson. Fight instinct much?”
Steve leaned back, letting go of Eddie just to hold onto his nose.
Eddie kept from Steve’s lap, standing and waving his hands at his sides. An anxious tick.
“Fuck! Is it broken? Is it bleeding? Let me see!” He reached to gently pull Steve’s hand away from his nose, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Okay, you’re fine. Jesus H Christ.”
Steve looked down at his hand, then up at the nerd once more, his lip curving into a frown.
“I am not fine. I didn’t finish.”
The hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stood on end.
“F-Finish?”
Steve raised his hands menacingly into the air, not caring about the soreness in his nose anymore.
Fandom: Stranger Things
Characters: Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson
Summary: Eddie loves planning campaigns, Steve loves planning events. So how exactly did the dream team get so sidetracked?
Words: 2700+
Notes: Ahhhh not only is he late with his first fic on this account, but he's late for SS too. I was lucky enough to write a fic for the absolutely incredibly talented @rosiesramblings! I tried to use all of your prompts (earning a reward, too much energy and boredom) somewhere in the fic and apologies for the late post, but I hope you like It!!! A big thank you to our lovely host @hypahticklish too. Happy happy holidays and a wonderful new year to everyone.
Sometimes, Eddie Munson laughs and Steve swears it could shatter that Garfield mug he’s so obsessed with— despite the fact that he only uses the damn thing for hot chocolate.
Like the breathy laughter that burst from his lips last friday, When Robin spent a little too long comparing an old photo of Steve to the baby from The Labyrinth. Most memorably, a joke about their shared fashion taste had the party’s favorite dungeon master quite literally wheezing on the shag carpet, clutching his sides as if he’d never recover from the sheer hilarity of it all.
Or perhaps he was thinking of the high pitched yelp of laughter that broke free every time he was caught off guard. As much as Eddie hated to be genuinely scared, he found way too much amusement in getting jump scared. Shitty horror films, friends hiding behind doors, or even that lame haunted house from Halloween— All of the above earned the same result, a shriek that dissolved into laughter about halfway through.
Then again, they weren’t all bubbly and loud. Eddie’s laughter could be soft and sweet too, harboring an almost shy cadence when the time called for it and…
It’s at this exact moment, with utensils ever so neatly tucked into napkins and plates set along the grand mahogany dining room table, that Steve realizes he’s been thinking about Eddie Munson way too much. All it took was one crappy little chuckle, one silly reaction to a half assed joke, for his thoughts to wander. Anything the other said during his trance was a mystery, though as that playful voice came back into frame, Steve figured the context clues were probably easy enough to figure out.
“-not a fighter, clearly. Maybe a Paladin or a bard. One thing is for sure, you’d definitely play an elf or a half elf. A prince maybe. Estranged?” Eddie’s rambles are definitely pointed towards him, although it’s clearly more of a conversation with himself than anything else.
Calf crossed over thigh, he sits on the kitchen counter. Pale hands hold a green piping bag steady over a tray of freshly cooked sugar cookies, adding some ghoulish finishing touches. “Just say the word, Big Boy, and I’ll create the most perfect, personalized Steve Harrington campaign of the year.”
“You mean the only Steve Harrington campaign of the year?” Steve retorts.
Just like always, sarcasm drips from his lips like honey. Even after volunteering his house, time and energy to Eddie and his Hellfire Goblins, the self proclaimed babysitter still can’t seem to fight his natural born grumpiness.
That persona was like a security blanket or a teddy bear; Steve’s always relied on it to make the world less scary or more accurately, to make himself less vulnerable. The Harrington Boy, The King, The Babysitter, every new iteration had improvements, but they also had one thing in common: A security mechanism, an off switch of sorts. Something that Eddie Munson clearly lacked.
“Only cause you’re a buzzkill.” Eddie insists, licking a bit of green from his fingertips.
The cookies are far from perfect but they’ll undoubtedly impress the kids. Dark eyes examine each one with a precision he definitely didn’t supply when creating them, though eventually he deems them good enough with a dimpled grin and a cheeky thumbs up.
With two hours left on the clock, Eddie finds himself at a loss. All the fun tasks for the campaign tonight have been finished. Food and snacks were the first on the list to be crossed off with pizza scheduled for later and fresh baked cookies set to the side. Decorations were next. Everything from miniature figurines to home made maps to origami dragons and mini potion bottles for the kids filled with juice.
The idea to spike the potion bottles had been vetoed with a very amusing yet indignant huff. Despite Eddie's insistence that he was a 'born rebel' at fifteen, Steve refuses to give them a lick of alcohol before they hit senior year.
Aside from that, all that was left was mundane tasks like vacuuming or cleaning up the newly created mess in the kitchen. Most people would have cheered, thankful to finish their list of chores before the fun could begin. Though most people didn’t have as much energy as Eddie Munson.
“Well this is it, Stevie.” Eddie pipes up a few moments later, watching the other brunette readjust the table settings for a bunch of soon to be sophomores who definitely wouldn’t notice if the fork was on the left side or the right. “Two hours left and you’re too busy turning my campaign into a murder mystery dinner to pay attention to me so clearly? I’m dying. I can’t believe I’m gonna die of boredom in the Harrington Household… So big. So cold. So… white and mundane for someone as vibrant as myself.”
Eddie’s melodramatic performance is enough to peak Steve’s interest, but not his amusement.
“Finish Vacuuming the living room or stop complaining” Steve answers flatly. Over time, he’s learned that playing into the antics only magnifies them. Ninety nine percent of the time, just disregarding Eddie’s insane childish tendencies made them go away. “Besides, you can’t die from boredom.”
Ninety nine percent of the time, that would have worked.
Unfortunately, there was still that worrisome one percent to worry about.
“Well you might.”
“I might what—” Oblivious as ever, Steve finally ditches the table settings. Turning on his heel, the brunette’s lips are already parted, ready to question what the hell that response implies when he catches sight of the other’s stance.
Kitchen counter long since abandoned, the feisty dungeon master is taking stake across the room. Socked feet slide across dark polished wood, eerily unsettling in the quiet pace they set. Pale hands are held up, turned into claws with wiggling fingers that make Steve’s stomach flip as uncertainty settles in.
“Okay, okay. You might not die from my boredom.” Eddie hums lowly, lips curling into a grin that can only be described as downright mischievous. Each word is drawn out slower than the last, anticipation building between the two. “But you might not survive the cure. Let's see. I already tried knock knock jokes, barely effective. Funny movies, ehh somewhat works— Unless they’re too weird. Then you just sit all grumpy and confused— Anyway, not the point! Dear Steven, my point is…”
Similar to those puzzles Nancy used to force on him while babysitting Mike, he should’ve figured it out sooner, but he’s definitely seeing the picture a bit more clearly with time. They’re approximately halfway through Eddie’s villainous monologue when it clicks. Every example revolves around making him laugh which is an incredibly flustering thought all on its own. Out of all the ways to cure his boredom, Eddie wanted to do so while making Steve smile. Most people focused on his hair, his ass, his better known assets.
Eddie Munson was the first person to ever fixate on something so mundane.
Thankfully, Steve doesn’t have a second to worry about the heat crawling up the back of his neck, or the slowly developing crush that he’s most certainly going to ignore.
“… that I never asked if you were ticklish. Always felt like a cheap shot, you know? Low hanging fruit, but in the name of science, we do have to test every—” And that’s all it takes. The second the word ticklish leaves Eddie’s lips, the former jock is sprinting across the length of the dining room table and out of the room.
Heart hammering in his chest, the beat is so loud Steve can practically hear it ringing in his ears. White converse round a corner, running into the living room while quick footsteps sound close behind.
“Oh come on, Pretty Boy.” Eddie snorts through a laugh of his own. “Don’t run away from me!”
If he just looked back, he would have seen the way Eddie smiled at him from ear to ear, excitement and giddiness bursting from his pores. He would have seen the way the other nearly slipped in his socks, clearly lacking any grip as they ran around like little boys again. He would have seen the way those dark eyes lingered, how they drank him in, admiring his toned legs from years of athletics.
If he just looked back, maybe he would have registered how close he was to his demise. Then again, if he looked back, then Eddie might have seen how flustering that pet name was, or worse: He could have seen the smile tugging at his lips.
One foot rounds the corner of the couch but never gets the opportunity to touch down. Instead, fingers curl around the back of his sweater, swiftly pulling Steve until he’s falling. His back hits the sofa cushions with a soft grunt, brown locks splayed across the decorative pillow.
Everything flips in an instant. Eddie’s upper hand turns to shit the second he jumps onto the couch. Leaving more than enough room in between them, Steve takes the opportunity to act. Lightning quick reflexes give him just enough time to weave underneath the metalhead’s arm, flipping their positions until Eddie’s the one with his back against the couch and wide eyes looking up.
Though rather than looking scared he looks… exhilarated.
Any anxiety written across Steve’s face a minute ago is missing from Eddie’s now. As the general surprise wears off, he goes from wide eyed to giggly, immediately throwing his hands up in a mercy pose he knows won’t work. Wild curls fall in every direction, the occasional soft breathy laugh stumbling from his lips as he tries to worm out from underneath Steve’s pin.
“Stevie, C’mon. I was just trying to have a little bit of fun- Wait wait- Steve Hey-” In the long debated question of Dungeon Master Vs. Varsity Athlete, they finally know who comes out on top. Eddie’s rambled mixture of explanations, apologies and pleas fall on deaf ears the second nimble fingers touch down on his sides.
One of the most accessible vantage points, it proves rather successful when one squeeze elicits a sharp huff, all the air in his lungs leaving at once. Eddie’s body instinctively tries to pull away again, hands attempting to intercept Steve’s insistent poking and prodding of the soft flesh.
The silence lasts all of seven seconds. Any attempt to threaten Steve dies on his lips, choked out to make room for all the laughter taking control. Immediately thrashing around to the best of his ability, it’s clear that Eddie’s not going down peacefully.
“A little bit of fun doing what, Eds?” Steve questions. “Annoying me? Chasing me around my own house? I mean, shit, Munson. How the hell do you even have all of this energy? Honestly. I did you a favor flipping the tables, you clearly needed to tire yourself out.”
Each new guess and tease is accentuated with another poke at his vulnerable sides. One to the left right below his ribs, one to the right closer to his back, two on either side near his tummy, and one aimed in that squishy spot directly above his pantline— One that has his giggles interlaced with squeaks and squeals, struggling to handle any sort of stimulation that close to his hips.
“Nohohoho not thehehere!” Eddie whines half heartedly, though Steve can’t help but notice how little he fights back, hardly using any strength whatsoever in his attempts to grab onto those tortuous digits.
Thankfully for the thrashing Dungeon Master, Steve doesn’t get the chance to drill his thumbs into the divots of his hips for very long. An incredible stop on his grand tour of Eddie Munson’s giggle buttons, the destination proves to be too much. One sharp dig earns a yell so piercing the neighbor’s dog begins to bark, rough hands diving forward to grab onto anything for some sort of stability.
What Eddie’s trained fingers find instead is that squeezing Steve Harrington’s thighs renders the guy practically useless. A loud shriek splatters around the room, high pitched almost desperate giggles flying from his mouth. Any ounce of strength was sapped, curling up against Eddie’s chest in a way he’d swear was romantic in any other circumstance.
Umber eyes meet hazel, gazes locked with recognition on both sides before the tables are flipped yet again. Eddie hooks a leg underneath Steve’s knee, an arm worming out from below to wrap around his waist.
Before the Family Video employee can so much as suck in a breath from his fit of giggles, they’re back in the original position with a self proclaimed babysitter pretending not to enjoy himself on bottom and a metalhead who couldn’t hide it if he tried on top.
It turns out that Steve Harrington fucking shape shifts when you tickle him. The former jock’s confident sarcastic persona changes to something else entirely. If Eddie’s attempts to get away were half assed then Steve’s attempts don’t exist. Every new spot or tactic is brought with a new form of laughter, but they all have the same thing in common:
Steve’s leaning into it.
There’s no denying it. When teasing nails drag up his side, he turns into the affection rather than away from it. When his lower stomach is kneaded like a fresh pile of dough, he leans forward instead of pushing back. And when thumbs drill into his armpits, the brunette actually attempts to keep his arms up or at least not locked at his sides god forbid their fun ends too soon after being blocked.
Of course, Steve doesn’t notice this. Nor does he realize that Eddie was noticing this, but one of them has to be the observant one and it’s not the mess of giggles currently turning rosier with every passing second.
It’s almost as if their enjoyment is the key. Once that last bit of hesitance drains out, calloused fingers waste no time. Eddie changes spots again, this time clawing at his ribs with a smile that reeks of both vengeance and affection, a combo punch that would have made Steve breathless if he wasn’t already dissolving under deep belly laughter.
There’s way less talking now too. While Eddie’s an incredibly wiggly and talkative victim, babbling and thrashing through his hysterics, Steve seems to struggle getting anything out other than his laughter, only managing the occasional babble or squeal induced ‘Eds!’.
Finally those skilled guitarist fingers choose to take pity on him, allowing Steve to actually get a word in.
“Nohot… fair.” He breathes out through residual giggles. It doesn’t matter that the tickling has since ceased. Ghost sensations still tease and taunt across his sensitive skin, mentally swearing that he could still feel those fingertips dancing across his torso.
Eddie’s endearment drips like honey, dark eyes warming at the sight of his friend still struggling to get his act together. “No? I think that was totally fair. Plus, I slaved over those cookies, Stevie Boy. Heart and soul. Body and mind. Don’t I deserve a little prize?” His lips curl into a wicked grin, knowing damn well that his next words would fluster more than soothe. “Perhaps shaped in the form of those cute ass giggles of yours?”
Just as expected, heat begins to crawl up the back of Steve’s neck at the sentiment, though the rosy hue on his face from earlier makes it easy to mask the blush currently spreading. As if proving Eddie’s point further, playful pokes return to Steve’s torso, randomly nudging little spots until he’s back to bubbly uncontrollable giggles.
Using the last bit of strength, he reaches out to give Eddie’s side a squeeze, earning matching breathy laughter in return.
The fight grows less clear after that. Stray pokes and occasional squeezes keep both boys giddy, lost in their own little bubble.
For as long as he could remember, Steve Harrington had been a fixer. Even when the most misguided, he tried to right his own wrongs as well as everyone else’s around him. What began in early childhood as a terribly sad attempt of bringing his parents together had warped into a personality trait, a role he constantly forced himself to play out of fear of feeling useless.
But now the pressure of planning a perfect event for the kids is long forgotten and somehow he knows it’ll all work out. Because Eddie’s laughter is interlaced with his, their cheeks rosy and breath staggered. Suddenly, that familiar ache in his chest doesn’t feel quite as heavy as before and Steve realizes while doing absolutely nothing important at all, that he doesn't feel useless. He realizes that maybe…
“Hoholy Shit, Harrington. Forget weed. I think those damn giggles of yours got me high.”
Maybe this feeling between them was something else entirely.
Sometimes, Eddie Munson laughs and Steve wonders if love has always sounded like this.
A/N: Alrighty so this is my first tk fic that I’ve posted lol so plz enjoy and be kind :)
CW: Some swearing, slightly NSFW but not really tbh
Summary: Steve and Eddie finally get the time and privacy to spend some sexyyy time together, but someone’s sensitivities, per say, keep them from doing so
Eddie really liked kissing Steve. Like, a lot.
Kissing his lips was amazing, obviously. There was nothing he enjoyed more than making out with his gorgeous boyfriend. But Eddie wanted more. He wanted to kiss and worship every inch of his lovely body, pressing his lips to each and every one of the moles littered across his smooth, tan skin. He wanted to kiss every inch of him.
Eddie sat straddling atop of Steve’s hips as they passionately kissed, Steve’s hands tangled in the metalhead’s mess of curls. Their mouths moved together in a steady rhythm as one of Eddie’s more mellow rock vinyls played softly from his record player.
Tucking a stray hair behind Steve’s ear, Eddie lightly pressed his lips to the skin right below the lobe, making Steve seemingly shiver and eliciting a somewhat unrecognizable noise. It wasn’t quite like his usual whines and moans that he makes out of pleasure, it was something slightly different, almost like surprise.
Eddie decided to brush it off and continue to kiss down the side of Steve’s neck. He didn’t make the noise again, but Eddie was a bit puzzled by the lack of any noises at all. And apart from the slight jolt and subtle squirming that Eddie could feel from under him, Steve was being unusually still. Stiff, even.
Eddie pulled away, curiously eyeing the boy beneath him. His eyes were screwed shut and he bit his lip as if he was trying to keep himself quiet.
“You okay, Sweetheart?” Eddie asked, softly brushing his thumb across Steve’s cheek as the latter opened his eyes.
“Oh! Um, yeah definitely, of course,” He nodded quickly, offering a small reassuring smile. “I’m great.”
“Okay...” Eddie hummed, but couldn’t miss the soft pink hue dusting across Steve’s cheeks. He smirked inconspicuously before lowering his face back to the other boy’s neck. But instead of continuing his soft, slow kisses, he switched to peppering light, fluttery pecks across the skin of Steve’s neck, ears, and underneath his chin.
He could practically feel Steve begin to crack from beneath him, his body squirming and twitching to the point that he could barely hide it anymore.
“Fuhuck,” he swore, a subtle giggle slipping into his voice. When Eddie nibbled ever so gently on the small dip of skin right beneath his ear and behind his jaw, Steve couldn’t help but jerk, slightly, away from Eddie’s teasing lips. His hand suddenly shot up to grip onto the fabric of Eddie’s t-shirt as if he needed the support to steady himself.
Eddie let the small slip side, but not without kicking his devious antics up a notch.
Switching to pressing kisses to the other side of his neck, Eddie sneakily and quietly crept a mischievous hand underneath the hem of Steve’s polo. He could feel goosebumps spring up on his skin as he dragged his fingertips across his skin with a feather-like touch.
He felt Steve’s breath hitch, his stomach jumping inwards as Eddie traced his dull fingernails up his side. Steve’s grip on Eddie’s t-shirt tightened.
Eddie, face still burrowed into the crook of his boyfriends neck, could easily hide his growing smirk. Despite how stubbornly he held it in, Eddie could tell that Steve was ready to crack any minute now. Just the slightest push will surely send him over the edge.
All it took was a single curl of Eddie’s fingers into Steve’s stomach to break the damn.
“Eddieheh,” Steve practically whined, soft giggles now pouring consistently from his lips as Eddie softly scribbled his fingers into Steve’s abdomen, the attack on his neck persisting on top of it.
He squirmed and cringed away from the teasing touches as much as his position under Eddie’s straddle would allow him—which, unsurprisingly, was not a lot. He scrunched his shoulders in a poor attempt to deter Eddie’s impish kisses, but of course it was all too easy for Eddie to simply move to the other side when one was blocked.
“What’s so funny, big boy?” Eddie asked, pulling away and blinking innocently as if clueless. “I’m trying to be sexy here and I really don’t appreciate you giggling like this.”
“Screhew off,” Steve was somehow still able to roll his eyes despite his mirth. “You knohow what you’re dohoing.”
Eddie gasped in mocking offense.
“No need to be rude about it,” he jeered, pitching at Steve’s other side as punishment. He jolted at the new touch, his giggles starting to form into a fully fledged laugh as he lamely attempted to grab at Eddie’s fiendish hands.
“Ohohoh my gohohod,” Steve tossed his head back, his eyes squeezing shut as he gave in.
Eddie couldn’t help but let a warm, adoring smile bloom onto his lips as he gazed down as his laughing lover, taking in the sight for a moment longer before deciding to choose mercy. But not before lowering his lips to Steve’s neck one last time to blow a raspberry onto the hypersensitive skin that got him into this whole mess in the first place.
Steve practically squealed, his hands shooting up to Eddie’s shoulders to weakly push him away.
Eddie let out a soft chuckle as he sat upright again, looking down with a shit-eating grin as Steve finally got to catch his breath.
“You could have just told me you were ticklish, Stevie. Maybe I would have been more careful if I’d known.” Eddie teased before letting out a brief scuff. “Maybe.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re one to talk,” he goaded, swiftly giving Eddie’s ribs a quick squeeze.
Eddie squeaked, immediately rolling over to the side, knowing perfectly well he wouldn’t be able to hold his own if Steve actually fought back. That bag of worms can be saved for another time.
“Guess I kinda ruined the moment, huh,” Eddie turned onto his side to meet Steve’s eyes.
“Maybe,” Steve shrugged before shyly averting his eyes, “or maybe I’m just too sensitive for this.”
Eddie couldn’t help the doting smile that formed on his face as he beamed at his adorable boyfriend. He breathed out a laugh before grabbing Steve’s face and pressing a kiss to his forehead.
A/N: Dedicated to @veryblushyswitch thank you for motivating me to get off my ass and finish this :) I think the fic kind of jumps around, probably because I wrote it so sporadically, but I still hope you enjoy!
The thing was, Steve knew he was being ridiculous. The logical side of his brain was well aware that his feelings didn’t make sense. But, over on the emotional side of his brain, Steve’s abandonment issues were going into overdrive.
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