#ticklish!eddie munson

[hotwritergf]

Knismo!Eddie who rolls his D-20 and asks them if he should tickle Steve.

Eddie: “Okay so odd numbers mean I tickle you, and even numbers mean you get tickled by me!”

Steve: “that’s the same thi- fuUCK”

& Eddie is just relentless because ‘the dice are never wrong!’

[tickle-bugs]

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

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

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

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

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

Ahoy, Sailor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For now.” Eddie shrugs. Steve huffs.

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

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

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

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

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

“By wearing…your clothes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mimimunson]

steddie / ticklish!eddie / one shot

cw- tickling, swearing

wayne notices everything. eagle eyed he picked up on how close steve and his nephew were before they even told him they were dating. he very quickly saw how much eddie liked to fluster steve around their friends, he thought it was only fair that he gave the lad some ammo on eddie.

“when he was younger and showing off, i just used to poke his sides a little, that was quickly an attitude adjustment.” he whispered to steve when eddie had gone to the bathroom. steve’s eyes gleamed at the information, he would never have guessed eddie was ticklish, but slowly everything started adding up.

eddie re-entered the room and steve had a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

“what the fuck did you tell him?” eddie groaned making direct eye contact with his uncle, pointing his finger accusingly.

he was so screwed.

[theticklishbookwyrm]

Critical Hit || 'Stranger Things' Tickle Fic

Summary: The second Eddie finds out that Hawkins' resident pretty boy is ticklish, it is all over for poor Steve. Also, Robin and Dustin are TRAITORS.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Word Count: 1,667 words.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

Steve felt his heart leap into his throat, eyes widening as they flicked between Eddie and Dustin in a panic. "Nothing, he said nothing! Isn't that right, Henderson?" The teen said, all too quickly.

Dustin snorted, the boy's grin taking on a mischievous undertone. "What? Don't want Eddie knowing you're super-" Before he could finish his sentence, Steve slapped a hand over Dustin's mouth, eyes now narrowed warningly.

"Don't."

Eddie raised his brows, chuckling as he turned his attention away from the guitar still resting in his hands. "Come on, Harrington, now I HAVE to know what the kid said. Wish I had been paying attention the first time, of course, but-"

"Come on, just drop it, Eddie." Steve cut him off, his cheeks and ears now dusted with a light pink blush.

Oh, now THAT was interesting.

Suddenly, Steve's hand recoiled from Dustin's mouth, face contorting with disgust as he wiped in furiously against his jeans. "Did you just fucking LICK me?" He asked, tone a mixture of indignance and shock.

The younger teenager shot Steve a victorious grin before opening his mouth to speak before he could be stopped again. "Steve is-"

"Ticklish." A new voice finished. All three of them looked towards the door, the sight of Robin grinning with arms loaded with snacks greeting them. "Steve Harrington is super fucking ticklish."

"Robin!" Steve hissed, embarrassment growing, especially when the sound of Dustin's amused giggling met his ears.

"What? The kid was about to spill your secret anyways!" Robin replied, plopping down on Eddie's sofa next to Dustin, offering the boy a high five and a bag of Doritos. "Not like it's much of a secret to begin with; you suck at hiding it, dude."

Steve's mouth hung open, his face feeling as if it was on fire. Shit, shit, shit! His heart rate picked up as Eddie hummed, the sound low and tinged with something Steve could only describe as evil (or amusement, though both options did not bode well for poor Steve).

"Steve "The Hair" Harrington is ticklish?" The musician crooned. Steve dared a glance at the other's face; big mistake. A wide grin had broken out on Eddie's face, his eyes twinkling with pure glee, the expression making Steve's stomach do nervous flips.

Steve was royalty screwed.

"I believe Robin said SUPER FUCKING TICKLISH." Dustin chimed smugly, earning a smack to the back of the head from Robin.

"Damn Henderson, do you kiss your mother with that mouth? But yes, that is a more accurate statement. " Robin replied.

The look that Eddie was giving Steve now was downright EVIL, so filled with playful mischief that it made Steve want to curl into a ball and never come out again. Shit, nothing was even HAPPENING yet, but the knowledge that something was definitely GOING to already had Steve on the verge of nervous chuckles.

"Eddie, why are you looking at me like that? Don't go getting any ideas..."

"Too late, pretty boy." Eddie was on his feet before Steve could blink, slowly stalking closer and closer, almost resembling a cat hunting a mouse. Instinctively, Steve began to quickly back away from the impending threat.

Now, Steve had a few options. He could either stay put and meet his doom head-on like a man, OR he could make a break for the trailer door in a desperate attempt to save his own skin. One was far kinder on his dignity...

He chose the later.

Steve bolted for the door, his heart racing like a rabbit, nearly leaping into his throat as Eddie let out a war cry from somewhere behind him. "Get back here!"

'Shit, shit, shit!' Steve thought in a panic, hand reaching for the doorknob, freedom a mere foot away. However, it seemed luck wasn't on his side, as he felt two hands seize his waist from behind and drag him backwards, pulling a shocked yelp from Steve's lips.

"I've gotcha now!" Eddie crowed victoriously, wrapping an arm around Steve's chest as he drug the kicking teenager to the floor, wrestling with Steve's frantically waving arms until he was able to successfully get a grip on the other's wrists.

"Eddie, come on! You don't have to do this! Just let me go and we can go back to talking about that band you like, huh? W-What was it called again?" Steve started to babble, eyes wide, a nervous grin already beginning to tug at his lips.

"Don't listen to him! Get his ass good, Eddie!" Dustin cheered, reaching over Robin's lap to swipe the bag of Doritos out of her hands, earning a noise of indignation in return.

"Don't worry, I plan on it. Now, where should we start, huh? What spots get Steve "The Hair" Harrington the most giggly?" The guitarist crooned, eyes sparkling with mischief as he pinned Steve's wrists under his knees, freeing up both of his hands. They hovered over Steve's now exposed torso, fingers wiggling tauntingly. "Sides, tummy, hips? Got any suggestions?"

"Nowhere! Let me go, you asshole!" Steve sassed, bucking his hips and trying desperately to tug his wrists free.

"Oho, you going to let him talk to you like that?" Robin chuckled. "I mean, I certainly wouldn't, especially knowing how ticklish those ribs of his are."

"Robin!" Steve cried out, eyes shooting over to Robin in a look of utter betrayal. "Shut up! Eddie, Eddie listen to me! D-Don't even think about it!"

"Nah, I think I'll do more than THINK about it." Eddie's grin sharpened as his hands shot down, latching onto Steve's ribcage and beginning to squeeze. Immediately, Steve's lips sealed shut, grin turning wobbly as he shuttered with barely contained giggles.

Dustin snorted. "Look at him, still trying to act all tough!"

"Aw, come on, Stevie. Don't hold out on me now. Why not let those bouncy little giggles come out to play, hm?" Eddie cooed.

Steve shook his his head harder, eyes squeezing shut. God, why THIS? Why couldn't Dustin just keep his stupid mouth shut? Being so sensitive was already bad enough, but having EDDIE of all people find out about it made Steve want to curl into a ball and never show his face again.

Eddie began to take a more tactical approach, raking his fingers slowly over the outstretched ribs, taking time to scratch between each bone as he slowly worked his way towards the stomach. "Maybe you need help loosening those lips, hm? Lets see how you handle this, big boy."

Shit, that was so much worse! Steve's breath hitched, a few little snickers beginning to slip past his lips at the change in techniques. "N-Noho! Cut it ohohout!" It came out less as a demand and more like a borderline whine.

"Making some progress, but still not what I'm looking for. Hey Henderson, what about you? Know any good spots?" Eddie called, glancing over his shoulder as his fingers continued to scratch and pluck away at the ticklish ribs.

"His neck gets him giggling like a girl!" The younger teenager smirked, the expression immediately getting wiped from his face as Robin gave his shoulder a gentle shove.

"You better watch it or you'll be next!" Robin snorted, rolling her eyes as she smiled fondly at the silly display on the floor.

Eddie's eyes met Steve's, his grin turning downright feral. "Neck, huh? Let's see just how accurate Henderson's claim is, shall we?" He didn't wait for a response, ducking down and beginning to gnaw at the neck in question, letting out theatrical growls as he did so. Immediately, Steve cracked, busting into shrill giggles and squeals as his legs kicked out frantically in a vain attempt to scramble away.

"Shihihihit! Nohohohoho, dohohohohon't!" Steve hated how high pitched his giggles sounded, the sound punctuated with little squeaks whenever Eddie hit a particularly sensitive spot. All the while, the guitarist's fingers continued to scribble and rake across his ribs, creating a deadly dual attack that made Steve's thoughts jumble in a ticklish haze.

"Uh, I think you mean DO!" Robin giggled. "Come on, Steve, you are BARELY trying to get away! Man, I knew you liked this, but this is a whole new level of cute!"

"What?!" Dustin asked, clearly taken aback by her statement. "Are you serious?"

"Ooh yeah, Steve here just LOVES getting tickled within an inch of his life. He asks me to do it, like, ALL the time. Isn't that righty, Stevie?" Robin asked devilishly, delighted by the bright red blush spreading across Steve's cheeks.

"Nohohoho, that's nohohohot-" Steve was cut off by a squeaky squeal as Eddie found a sweet spot just beneath his left ear, nuzzling and nibbling until Steve thought he was going to combust.

"Less talking, more laughing, pretty boy.." Eddie growled, his grin pressed against the sensitive skin and flustering Steve to no end. "It's fucking precious that you like this so much; just makes me wanna tickle you even more. Would you like that? Do you want me to tickle, tickle, tickle until your brain turns to mush?"

Steve opened his mouth, trying to think of a response between hysterical titters, only for a shriek to rip out of his mouth at the sudden feeling of a second set of hands attacking his knees, squeezing at the caps in a manner that sent Steve straight into loud, hysterical cackles. "SHIHIHIHIT, WAHAHAHAHAIT! WAIT, NOHOHOHOT THE KNEHEHEHEES!"

Eddie paused, sitting back in confusion. Glancing behind him, he noticed that Dustin had positioned himself by Steve's failing legs, hands latched onto the older teenager's knees and squeezing rapidly. "What? You honestly expect me not to join in after that revelation?" Dustin asked, raising a brow.

"Nah, I'm just proud of you, kid. It sounds like you landed a critical hit on poor Stevie here." Eddie snickered, beginning to spider his fingers across Steve's stomach. "Hey, lets see who can make him snort the fastest!"

At that moment, Steve knew he was a dead man.

[princesslightgiggles]

Truth or Dare

Gathered in Eddie's cluttered, cramped trailer, the friends sat in a circle surrounded by mismatched pillows and dim lighting. The atmosphere was filled with excitement and anticipation as the bottle spun, leading to bursts of laughter and playful banter. When it was Eddie's turn, he chose "dare" with a characteristic smirk, ready for whatever challenge awaited him.

He drew a card from the stack, his heart beating a little faster. As he read the dare, a hint of pink colored his cheeks. "Let the person to your left tickle your feet for two minutes."

Eddie's eyes met yours, seated to his left, and he saw the mischievous glint in your eyes. He knew just how ticklish he was and the thought of enduring that in front of everyone (especially cocky, pretty boy Steve Harrington) made him uneasy. Nevertheless, determined not to back down, he nodded and prepared himself for the inevitable.

Without hesitation, you began to lightly tickle Eddie's bare feet. He erupted into uncontrollable laughter almost instantly, his body writhing and squirming as he tried to handle the ticklish assault. The others watched, the younger kids laughing and cheering you on, watching the leader of the Hellfire club come utterly undone.

As you scribbled over the balls of his feet, Eddie jerked wildly. “Shit….. shit…… ahahahaha….. stop….. please…… not there…. ah fuck!” he mumbled between frantic giggles. He was determined not to pull his feet away. Eddie always played by the rules… when it came to games anyway.

Those two minutes felt like an eternity for Eddie. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, and he struggled to catch his breath between fits of laughter. Despite his best efforts to remain composed, every touch sent him into hysterics.

When the timer finally ran out, Eddie sat there, breathless and disheveled, his face flushed from laughter, messy curls everywhere. He avoided looking at anyone, feeling self-conscious about his reaction. Trying to regain his composure, he reached for a joint lying nearby, lighting it with shaky hands. He took a deep drag, the familiar sensation helping to steady his racing heart. As he exhaled slowly, the tension began to melt away, and he glanced over at you. You looked positively gleeful.

“You enjoyed that way too much Y/N” he grumbled, feigning being sulky. “I thought we were taking a break from monsters and torture tonight?” He raised an eyebrow and a small smile played on his lips, belaying that he wasn’t really mad at you.

You poked him in the ribs and he jumped with a yelp. “Careful Eddie” you warned. “They say the tickle monster is the worst monster of them all. You would do best not to upset me”. You wiggled your fingers menacingly in his direction.

Eddie shuffled backwards away from you, not taking any chances about your threat but found himself backing into Steve who pinned his arms behind his back and said with a wink and a shit-eating-grin “y’know… I think Eddie here could do with some more laughter in his life, after the week he’s just had. What do ya say we help him out?” He spoke to the group.

The younger kids thought this sounded like tremendous fun and all piled in to scribble fingers over ribs, knees, feet, armpits…. Anything they could while the metalhead laughed, bucked, screamed and writhed in Steve’s grasp.

For tonight, the sound of laughter coming from the trailer would serve to keep anything bad away and tomorrow the group would fight whatever came their way, with a renewed sense of camaraderie.

[warrenwrites]

Main Masterlist

Requesting Information:

My ask box is always open if you just wanna rant about prompts, i’ll respond to those pretty much immediately since they don’t take any planning or proof reading.

You can request romantic or platonic fics but I keep everything pretty SFW, anything otherwise will be marked as such.

Requests are open for everyone on the masterlist but it might take me time to get to them since I work full time.

Eddie Munson

The Amazing Spiderman

Moon Knight

Matt Murdock

The Sandman

Spencer Reid

Lockwood and Co

Shadow and Bone

[amazingmsme]

Hii, I'm not sure if you still write for steddie, but I was wondering if you could write a steddie tickle fic, please, where Eddie gets his shit wrecked? I love reading all your other fics btw!

Of course I still write for steddie! I love them sooo much, I can’t get enough of them! This has been sitting in my inbox for a while, so I don’t remember if I’ve posted more st fics since then, but I have my fic that @ticklishraspberries commissioned, draw me something as pretty as you

I also have 2 steddie fics I wrote for last year’s tickletober event: trapped in the dungeon & what follows the chaos

[munsonify]

good morning kiss

pairing. eddie munson x fem!reader

summary. after endless attempts to try and wake you up, eddie’s kisses are finally what make your eyes open up

genre. fluff

warning/s. pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), reference to being “his girl” and a “sleeping beauty”, she/her pronouns, kissing, slight allusions to sex (in past memory)

authors note. i’m so sorry if the pov is weird in this?? i tried writing this differently than i usually write my fics, so i think i might’ve been switching between past and present tense. anyways i hope you guys like this!!

word count. 529

disney princess collection

you look so peaceful. your eyes rest closed, body slumped into eddie’s bed. even in one of his ratty old kiss t-shirts and your cheek pressed against his floppy pillow, you look so beautiful.

it’s late april, sunlight spilling in through the window, catching his dusty blinds to cast shadows against his blankets. only glimpses of you illuminated - your right eyelashes, the bridge of your nose, one corner of your mouth that twitches ever so slightly in your sleep.

as much as eddie loves admiring you (with his distaste for interrupting your peace much stronger), you two had only 30 minutes to get ready for school. with a soft smile, eddie’s hand gently squeezes at your hip, shaking you with care. he knows you never wake from the first few shakes.

two more gentle shakes go by before he starts tracing his fingers beneath your his shirt. eddie’s voice, though a little gravelly, whispers softly into your ear, trying to ease you awake the best he can.

“gotta wake up sweetheart, don’t want you late again this week.”

you had two very logical explanations as to why you were late two times already this week. you spent monday morning preoccupied with the way eddie’s hand felt on your thigh on the drive to school. completely not your fault.

as for your second tardy, tuesday morning, you spent twenty minutes helping eddie replace the flat tire on your car. he insisted that it couldn’t wait, and that you need reliable transportation outside of himself. as if he’d ever say no to giving his girl a ride.

eddie still failed to wake you. your back was turned to him, though he could still see some of your face. the corner of your lip twitches again, but this time it looked somewhat like a smile to him.

with raised eyebrows, eddie pushes his weight up and over top of you to get a better look of your face. his fingers find their way to your tummy now, softly feeling your skin. he desperately wants you to keep resting. everything in him tells him to let you be. eddie, however, knew he’d feel guilty letting you be late again.

“c’mon sweetheart,” he whines softly, watching as your eyelashes flutter ever so slightly. you’re faking being asleep. with a wide grin plastered onto his face, eddie decides to play into it. his fingers begin to dance against the ticklish spots on your skin. still, you force yourself to stay ‘asleep’.

“what’s a guy gotta do to get his sleeping beauty to awaken?” that’s when it dawns on him. a kiss. the hand that was once on your tummy reaches up to your cheeks, smushing them together gently.

only a few seconds later was your cheek greeted with a big, wet kiss. quiet giggles erupt from your chest, slowly twisting in eddie’s arms to face his direction. in between your giggles, you can hear him whisper “she has risen”.

he un-smushes your cheeks for just a second, giggling along with you as you speak quietly. “i think your sleeping beauty needs one last kiss on the lips to seal the deal.”

“anything for my princess.”

———

taglist. @songbirdofthenight

[solarmorrigan]

Leaf Me Alone

For the @steddie-spooktober day 22 prompt: Leaves Rated: T | Words: 797 | CW: None | Tags: pre-relationship, Eddie Munson is a menace, Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson, fluff Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Steve has roughly one second of warning, coming in the form of a whoop of laughter, before the pile of leaves in front of him explodes.

“What the fuck–” He jumps back, rake held in two hands like a weapon, poised to strike at whatever threat has materialized in his front yard, only to find when the rain of dead leaves settles that it’s just– “Eddie!”

Heedless of the dangerous level of irritation in Steve’s tone, Eddie only grins back from where he lies in the middle of what had been a neatly raked pile of leaves.

“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t particularly sound it. “But have you seen the size of this pile? I couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the size of the pile, because I just raked it up. Dick.” Steve kicks one foot out, sending another flutter of leaves up in Eddie’s direction; Eddie bats them away with an unrepentant grin. “Do you even know how long this took me?”

“Oh, at least an hour, I’d imagine,” Eddie says airily, beginning to sweep his arms and legs out like he’s making a snow angel (a leaf angel? Whatever; it’s going to be the imprint of his dead body if he doesn’t get the hell up soon).

“Longer,” Steve snaps. “And you’re gonna help me rake it back up.”

Living on the edge of the woods has its pros and cons. On the one hand, the leaves are pretty in the fall; on the other hand, they’re an absolute pain in the ass to rake up once they drop off the trees. Steve tries not to sound like a spoiled rich kid these days, but why can’t his parents just hire someone to do this? Or, better yet, they could just let the leaves lie; Robin says that’s better for the environment, anyway.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, his grin fading into something more contrite. “I’m sorry. Help me up, and I’ll fix the pile, alright?”

Steve sighs, casting the rake aside so he can stand over Eddie and offer him a hand. He realizes a moment too late that he probably should have held onto the tool, however, because when Eddie takes his hand, he doesn’t use it to lever himself up off the ground, but to pull Steve down and tackle him onto the leaf pile.

Steve’s breath whuffs out of his chest as he lands on the carpet of leaves, and it gives Eddie just enough time to straddle him, pinning him down with a triumphant “ha-HA!”, before he grabs two fistfuls of leaves and starts raining them down over Steve.

“Oh, you’re so dead!” Steve declares, grabbing his own handful and tossing it at Eddie’s face, using the momentary distraction to hook a leg over one of Eddie’s and roll them over.

Eddie goes down laughing, and somehow, Steve finds himself joining in, grabbing more leaves to rain down over him.

“See how you like it, huh?” Steve manages on the breathless edge of actual giggles.

When his hands are empty, he pauses to see if Eddie’s had enough of this game, which is when Eddie’s hands snake out and shove up under Steve’s shirt.

“Wait – wait, no, that’s cheating!” Steve shrieks, but any other protest is lost to laughter as Eddie unerringly finds every ticklish spot Steve has.

Steve dives to the side in an attempt to escape and Eddie follows, grinning in a way that could only be described as maniacal.

They spend the next few minutes rolling around on Steve’s front lawn, completely destroying the pile of leaves as they wrestle through it and continue to throw handfuls of them at each other. Steve is pretty sure he’s got leaves in his pants, and there are so many caught in Eddie’s hair that he could pass for a tree.

Still, as Steve falls onto his back, trying to catch his breath, and Eddie leans over him, trying to do the same, there’s something captivating about him. His eyes are bright, his cheeks are flushed, and his smile has softened out into something like delight. As the late afternoon sunshine catches on the curls of his wild hair, Steve realizes – he’s beautiful.

“Steve,” Eddie says, voice gone low as he leans in.

“Yeah?” Steve answers, now feeling breathless in a different way.

They’re nearly chest to chest, and Eddie is so close that Steve can almost taste his smile.

“I need to tell you something.”

Steve makes a questioning sound, eyes flicking between Eddie’s eyes and his lips.

Eddie leans an inch closer, eyes lidded as he murmurs, “I think I swallowed a leaf.”

With a huff, Steve plants his hand on Eddie’s face and shoves him away. Eddie goes, laughing again.

Unfortunately, it’s still a beautiful sound.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Here's a small idea for you. Steve's hands are naturally drawn to the rips in Eddie's jeans.

Eddie notices.

Eddie starts creating more and more rips.

Steve's hands travel to those rips. Preferably the ones on his thighs.

Eddie decides to play with fire and creates one just below his hipbone.

Unfortunately for Eddie, Steve's hands do travel there. That leads to:

a) the most embarrassing whine in the history of the Munson doctrine,

b) a terrifying realization that there actually is a single spot where Eddie is ticklish.

But Eddie is no quitter so he never sews that rip back together.

[hotwritergf]

Steve doesn’t just rest his head in Eddie’s nap when he’s getting comfy for a nap. He gets Eddie to lay down on his back, and he nuzzles his face into his tummy. Rubbing his face into it, nibbling his waist, blowing raspberries over his belly button and ghosting his fingers over his hips to tickle him, leaving him in breathy giggles. Eddie’s tummy moves up and down through his laughter and Steve chuckles being bounced around a little. When he’s soothed down enough to sleep, Eddie can tell because it’s like all of the hyper energy Steve had for his tummy disappears into sleepily planting gentle kisses under his navel. Eddie just lays there, petting his fingers through Steve’s hair and watches a Lord of the rings until he falls asleep himself. Or Steve wakes up and becomes feral for his tummy all over again. 🍯

[tickle-bugs]

For the writing thingie, maybe ler!Robin lee!Steve? The phrase could be “Steve, don’t make me sit on you again…”

your honor, they are everything to me. hope u enjoy!! still trying to figure out robin tbh

Under Covers

Robin leans her bike against the garage, careful not to scrape. Steve’s home--his car sits idle in the driveway, waiting patiently to ferry them both to Family Video. They’re already late, technically, but they’re not late late yet. 

An argument could be made that she could simply bike to work, admonishing Steve from the high horse of punctuality, but that’s no fun.

She jiggles her key in the lock and throws the door open, dumping her bag by the door. It’s quiet and dark downstairs, the kitchen unused, neither of which are a good sign. Steve’s usually a morning person, but on the days where he isn’t, he has to be surgically removed from sleep. It’s a coin toss, really, if he’s late over his hair or late for oversleeping and his hair. 

She inhales as much as her lungs can manage, then: “Steeeeeeevvvvveeeeee!”

No response. She scowls. 

She helps herself to a glass of orange juice and promptly rinses the glass, never one to make extra work for Steve when possible. Bothering him, yes, but inconveniencing him? Not if she can help it.

She thumps up the stairs two at a time. Steve’s bedroom door is cracked open when she gets there, exposing the comically lumpy mass of blankets on his bed and the upsetting pile of laundry in not one, but two corners of the room. Robin has half a mind to do a running jump onto the bed, but he’s gotten way too good at convincing her to take pre-work naps. They need this job. Unfortunately. 

“Steve. Steven. Steeb.” Robin leans in the doorframe, biting her lip on an affectionate smile. Steve’s hair pokes out just at the top of the blanket pile. 

“Don’t make me sit on you,” She says a little louder, moving over to the left side of the bed. Steve wrinkles his nose and makes a grumbly noise. 

“Three, two--”

“Bobin?” He mumbles, squinting at her. 

She pounces. He screams, muffled by the blanket, but then he tumbles into wild giggles and flails for purchase. 

“Get up, get up, get up!” She squeezes at his sides through the blanket, feeling around blindly but knowing intimately where to strike. His arms fly free of the blanket and he starts grappling with her, trying to poke at her like the bastard he is, but she’s on a goddamn mission. Either they’re getting to work on time (unlikely) or he’s going to die (still on the table). 

“Get. up.” She starts tickling his ribs, sliding up under his arms every time he tries to swat at her. Steve honest-to-god snorts, which she didn’t know he could do. She catalogues it for later. 

“W-Why--Ah, Robin, nohoho!” Steve whines and covers his face. She starts poking at his stomach, speeding up whenever he tries to grab her. His laughter revs like an engine. He twists away suddenly, curling up on his side and as close to the edge of the bed as he can physically get. Robin chuckles at him and tazers his side. He makes no sense. Only Steve would forfeit all the empty space in his bed rather than use it to escape. 

“We’re late, dingus!” She reaches back and squeezes his thigh. He shrieks like his life depends on it, voice cracking around his laughter in that way she loves. 

“I’m up!” Steve wheezes, lunging forward to grab her wrists. She squeezes again and he crumples into the mattress, throwing his head back against the pillows. He tries to say her name, or possibly curse at her, but all that comes out is a jumble of syllables and frantic, nervous giggles. 

“No, if you were up, you’d be getting ready.”  She pauses, just to prove her point. Steve pushes his hair out of his face and fixes her with the bitchiest look he can manage. She grins. He scowls. 

“I’ll drag you out of bed if I have to.” She crosses her arms. When he wriggles down into the bed like an indignant little worm, he earns her wrath. It’s only natural. She’s given him an out and a half. Robin feels around under the blanket and grabs Steve’s ankle, skittering her nails over the curve of his heel and up. It’s a fast track to a black eye, but she’s gotten quicker lately. 

There’s a screechy peal of laughter, then a thump--a loud one, and not from Steve’s side. Robin peers over the right side of the bed, feeling for the nearest pillow to defend herself from whatever creatures might lurk in here. 

Instead, she finds Eddie Munson. His hair’s a mess, more so than usual, and his face is bright pink. He’s oddly jittery.

“What.” Robin and Eddie blink at each other. She looks down at her hand, clutched around what is decidedly not Steve’s foot, then back up at Eddie. He gives her a sheepish wave. 

“Oh my god.” She drops Eddie’s ankle. Eddie. Here. In Steve’s bed.

“Robin--” Steve holds his hands out soothingly. 

“Oh my god.” She drops her head in her hands.  

“Is that a good ‘oh my god’ or do I need to change my locks?” Eddie asks from somewhere beside her. He climbs back up onto the bed and drops beside her. The mattress dips to accept him. 

“Still deciding,” She groans. Steve rubs her back, murmuring something soft and sickeningly fond in Eddie’s direction. She’s happy for Steve--god, she’s over the fucking moon for him, really. She teases him because someone needs to, but her heart swells knowing there was a resolution to all the yearning passing between the two of them. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I should’ve been the first to know!” Robin smacks Steve’s bare chest. He catches her hand. 

“Well, you’re like the third to know.” Robin glares at him, but Steve throws his hands up in surrender. “Kidding! Third, because me and Eddie. Honestly, Rob, we were gonna tell you.”

“We’re, uhm, still figuring it out.” Eddie nudges her shoulder, but his shmoopy eyes are firmly on Steve. Gross. 

“Alright, well…I have questions. So many questions. But first--” She pokes his chest as aggressively as possible. Eddie copies her, hitting Steve’s stomach instead. 

“Up, yes, I knohow--” Steve’s voice breaks on a giggle. He crumples awkwardly into Robin, twisting away from Eddie. Robin’s tempted to help, but she leans away from Steve to give Eddie more access. Drama’s more fun, anyhow. Steve doesn’t laugh nearly enough. 

“No--” Steve points accusingly at Eddie. Eddie only grins wider in response. 

“You’ve given me a tremendous gift, Buckley!” Eddie cackles, wiggling his fingers into Steve’s sides. Steve yelps and bolts, managing to skid in the bathroom and slam the door before Eddie can vault over the bed. Robin and Eddie both chuckle. 

“Sorry if I helped make you late,” Eddie says, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. A devious little idea grows in the back of her head.

“Yeah, you did.” She lunges at him with an evil laugh. Eddie squeaks and tries to scramble away, but Robin’s on him already, heart growing three sizes at the now-pair of dinguses she’d never choose to live without. 

[msgexymunson]

Prettiest Bitch

Description: you and Eddie have a special way of showing each other you care.

A/N: this is a real life fucking story of me and my partner lmao. Please like and reblog if you enjoy it sweetheart. 

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, established relationship, mean Eddie and mean reader but it's just fun and games, reader is AFAB, female oral receiving.

Masterlist

900 words

Laying on Eddie's sofa, you bask in the warm glow of being near him. Your legs were draped over his as you rifled through a book that you were barely paying attention to. Eddie's hand is up your loose pyjama pants, tracing soft circles on the  bare skin of your calf. 

"Eddie?" 

"Yeah sweets?" 

"You've always got to be touching me, don't you." 

"Suppose so."

You smirk, pulling his hand out of your pants. He whines like a child that just got his favourite toy confiscated. 

"Why?" 

"Dunno, I just want your skin."

Laughing loudly, you scoot closer on your knees, just shy of climbing onto his lap. 

"You want my skin? That sounds so fuckin' weird." 

Eddie drops his voice into an odd gravelly gasp, the one he reserves for goblin NPCs when he's DM. 

"Eddie wants it! Give Eddie your skin!" 

Before you can react he's pulling you onto his lap, hands wandering up your top and stroking hard at the exposed flesh. 

"You dumbass that tickles! Stop!" 

"Never!" He doubles down his efforts, lifting your t-shirt and blowing a wet raspberry on your stomach. You try to lean away but he has you trapped. 

Finally wiggling from his grasp in a fit of breathless giggles, your rump bumps heavily on the floor. 

"You're an idiot, Munson." 

"Yeah? Well you like me, so who's the idiot now?" 

"Still you!" You flip him the bird and he pokes his tongue out at you at the same time. 

Now eye level with the coffee table, a leaflet catches your eye. 

"What's this? Hawkins County fair?" 

Leafing through it, you hear Eddie's chuckle. 

"Yeah, just a bunch of farmers showing off the size of their pumpkins and shit, it's so stupid."

"But look!" You wave the ad in his face as he rolls his eyes. 

"Dog show Eddie! Dogs! Look, they've got categories and everything." 

He goes to steal it out of your hands but you hold firmly on, reeling off some of the different categories. 

"Senior dogs… there's one for puppies that's cute… oh haha look, prettiest bitch! I should enter." You nod at him and his gaze softens, sinking down to join you on the floor.

"Oh sweetheart" his thumb brushes your cheek as you melt under his gaze. 

"You're not pretty." 

Gasping, your eyes snap back open to see Eddie rolling on the floor gasping with fits of laughter. 

"Edward James Munson! Gonna make you regret that!" 

You straddle him, fingers digging bruises into his sides, trying desperately to find ticklish spots. 

"It was a joke! Come on sweets, you know I'm not ticklish there." 

Grinning devilishly, you straddle him backwards, clinging onto his legs like a koala.

"Nope, but you are here!" 

Your fingers tickle at his socked feet as he writhes beneath you. 

"Fuck, no fair! Stop!" 

"Never!" Your relentless onslaught continues.

"I will kick you in the head!" 

"Say I'm pretty!" 

"Fine! You're pretty, stop, stop!" 

You finally relinquish your hold and clamber off him still giggling triumphantly. 

"Am I forgiven?" 

"Nope. That was really mean Edward." You huff dramatically, folding your arms over your chest. 

"Kiss it better?" 

You both use that phrase. It started off with kissing your knee when you fell, then you used it to comfort him once when some jocks had been particularly mean to him, then it just melded into your day to day life. 

"OK." 

His smile is wicked as he pushes you to your back, fingers hooking into your pyjama pants. 

"The fuck are you doing?" Gazing down at him, he smiles sinfully as he pulls your pants down in one smooth motion. 

"Didn't say where, sweets." 

His tongue runs the full length of your pussy and runs around your clit in a smooth circle. 

"Fuck, Eddie!" Hands make their way into his unruly curls as he continues his apology, suckling at your clit. 

Thick fingers probe your entrance, gliding in to curl in that spot just like you like it. 

"Sweetheart, you're the prettiest girl in this trailer." 

Not giving in that easily, you pull his hair. 

"I'm the only girl in this trailer!" 

He laughs and sucks your clit again hard, making your back arch off the floor. 

"OK," he practically breathes into your cunt, "the prettiest girl in Hawkins?" 

"Better." 

"Fine, the prettiest girl in the fucking world." 

"OK, oh shit, oh you're forgiven!" Moans replace words as he fucks you hard with his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to release.

"Don't stop, don't stop, I'm gonna come, Eddie!" 

He presses the flat of his tongue against your clit hard as you ride his face into a searing wash of ecstasy. 

Releasing in a broken scream, you melt into a puddle. Moments later, a very smug Eddie hovers over you. 

"You are the prettiest bitch" He says, pressing a soft kiss to your nose. 

Too fucked out to argue, you pull him close and hold him. You'll get him back later. 

@munson-blurbs @roanniom @eddiesprincess86

[mimimunson]

Drunken fingertips<3

CW- tickling, mention of the police, mention of marijuana, mention of homophobia and bullying but is quite brief, intoxication.

Note- this is my first fic that I have ever written and the first fic I’ve felt semi-confident to post. Please be kind. This is first and foremost a tickle fic so if that isn’t your thing please scroll!! Minors DNI! This is not a tickle kink fic, but kinksters can interact!

Eddie Munson was by no means shy. As long as he could remember he’d always had a theatrical personality, he’d always felt like if he didn’t make someone laugh during the day, the day was wasted. He’d always found beauty in smiles and laughter, he found it endearing that no two laughs were the same. In fact, it’s kinda how he found out he liked boys. Coming out was a difficult experience, but Wayne told him what or who he did in his own bed was his own business. Eddie didn’t need aggressive acceptance, but the casual reminder that he was allowed to be queer. I mean he’d never admit that he flunked most of his classes because he was staring at admiring the guy across from him, he had a metal head persona to attend to but silliness was definitely his strong point.

With the up-bringing he had, it’s no shock that he was touch starved. That all changed when he met his new group of friends, they were all social rejects the same as him. All except Steve Harrington. He was the jock, the king of Hawkins-High. He wasn’t quite like the rest of the popular kids though. While they were calling kids slurs and laughing through the bullying they permitted, he’d stand there with a flushed face, stone cold silent. Steve wasn’t a stranger to Eddie before that, he was the guy he sat next to in his third period biology class on a Tuesday, the one he’d casually admire whilst pretending to take notes.

Steve was a different person then, now he would never stand by and let his so called friends verbally abuse others. Maybe it was his friendship with Robin that had opened his eyes to his own by-standing homophobia. But it was probably because he sat next to Eddie on the couch every Friday movie night in Wheeler’s basement. Steve wholeheartedly believed that sitting next to Eddie weekly was enough to make any man question their sexuality.

Eddie didn’t know how he got here, his knees grazing against Steve’s with his arm resting on the arm of the couch behind him. Both lightly buzzed on beer, whispering away to each other while the rest of the party were fixated on the next movie in their Star-Wars binge. He’d noticed more about Steve in the last 20 minutes than he did that whole year of biology class, his hair had a few strands of blonde mixed in with the brunette locks and when he smiled he had a dimple on the right side of his mouth.

“You have a dimple”

Eddie half-whispered and smirked, attempting to point at Steve’s cheek but narrowly missing from his intoxication. He playfully shrugged it off as if he meant to do that of course he did.

“Okay? So lots of people have dimples Munson.”

Steve shrugged and half smiled in Eddie’s direction.

“No no, you, King Steve have one singular dimple, not plural dimples. One. Only on this side”

Eddie spoke holding up his index finger, pointing as Steve’s face. Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled, nobody, not even he had noticed his singular dimple before.

“I get it now, shh I’m trying to watch the movie.”

He lied through his teeth, mocking Eddie’s performative hand gestures. He could tell Eddie was a little more tipsy than he was, the main clue being the 4 extra empty beer bottles beside him. Eddie giggled, brushing his curls out of his face.

“One Steve. One. Where’s your other dimple? Someone steal it?”

Steve rolled his eyes once more at his drunken friend. “Maybe” he shrugged, “have you got it Eds?”

He smiled, leaning his body weight a little closer towards him.

Eddie’s flushed a little at his words, “Eds”. Steve was the only person who called him that, he was like that scene in the grinch where his heart grows 4 sizes bigger whenever Steve called him that. It felt intimate, a moment that only they could share.

“Listen man, I am not a thief” he held his hands up at the accusation, his smile beaming over at him.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to search you, it’s official police business.”

He joked, patting down Eddie’s denim jacket. Giggling when he felt the outline of his grinder and lighter from inside his pockets.

“Drug paraphernalia.. I’m pretty sure that’s a crime. I’ve not been on the job long but I don’t know Munson, it’s not looking good for you.”

He laughed, pretending to check an imaginary watch on his wrist as if a watch could tell him how long he’d been working a profession for.

“Cuff me officer Harrington, for the crime of being a stoner.” Eddie barely spluttered that sentence out before erupting into laughter.

“Oh you think breaking the law is funny Munson?”

He said shifting himself closer to the drunken boy. Grabbing both wrists in one hand, pinning him to the couch, lightly running his fingers across his arms.

“This is funny?!”

Steve continued his ‘pat down’ if you can call it that, he was poking Eddie’s stomach with emphasis to his words.

“I did not know you were such a criminal. You’re on the wrong tracks man, it’s not too late to change your ways”

Eddie could feel his face burning. Steve was not only touching him, man he’d have to remember that for a later daydream, but he was tickling him.

“Fuck Steve come on don’t do that”

Half trying to slap at his hands but missing them in his inebriated state and half trying to hide the ever growing blush on his face. Drowning in a sea of laughter.

“What’s the matter Eds? This is formal policy, I have to do this.”

Steve caught on pretty quickly that he wasn’t laughing at his pretty wooden acting and more so that his pat was something of a ticklish situation for his friend.

“I- shut up.”

Eddie could hardly contain himself, apparently trying to juggle the need to grab Steve’s face and pull him in for a passionate make out session, hiding his blushing face and trying to pretend like he isn’t being tickled shitless was hard for him.

“Munson, you’re really fucking ticklish you know? If you ever actually get caught for possession you are so screwed.”

Harrington proclaimed laughing alongside his friend, holding him down with one hand so he doesn’t squirm his way off the couch.

“I am so gonna kill you.”

He spluttered out in between gasping for breath. Steve’s hands slowed until they halted, towering over Eddie admiring how his curls were like little spirals framing his face, he even found himself doting on the way he looked up at him. His iris’s were camouflaged into his pupils, his eyes were such a deep shade of brown, but when the light hit them just right they looked almost amber. They always complimented his smile, he definitely smiled through his eyes.

“You’ve still got the same smile, it hasn’t changed since we were assigned seats together.”

Steve whispered, his bisexuality was still hush-hush. He’d only confided in Robin before this moment, he found it difficult sure, but hiding anything from Robin was more of a challenge. She’d sussed out his crush on Eddie from the first moment Dustin introduced them. The way he couldn’t help but look at the floor because holding eye contact was painful, the way he’d look like a sick puppy every time Eddie wasn’t able to join in a trip with the party. But mostly the way that Steve had drunkenly confessed that his bi-awakening was Eddie Munson between spitting vomit into the toilet and sharing confessions with each other.

“You remember me?”

Eddie had his hand over his eyes, slightly peaking between the gap through his middle and ring finger. As if missing this moment was not an option, even if the crimson blush burning into his cheeks wasn’t fighting its corner.

“How could I forget the guy who would stroll into class 45 minutes late, smelling of weed, tripping over thin air and flopping himself down beside me not saying a single word but doodling for the remainder of the lesson? I remember most of it, including the times I could feel your eyes burning into the side of my face like a laser.”

Eddie was mortified at this point. He truly thought he had stealth like skills for daydreaming next to pretty boys but regardless, he wasn’t ashamed. He’d do it all again.

“Oh. You saw that huh? I- I just. I just-“

Before the metal head could even finish his sentence, Steve put his finger up to his own lips.

“No need to explain, I get it.”

He nodded, he never wanted to make him feel embarrassed about who he was.

“It’s rough, teen years I mean. For guys like us especially.”

“Guys like us?” Eddie shot him a bewildered look. He couldn’t possibly mean he was- did he?

“You know. Guys like us. Guys who like guys. I mean I’m a guy who likes guys and girls”

Steve is fumbling all his words right now, nervously trying to explain himself was harder than he imagined.

“Listen don’t tell anyone I told you that though man, only Rob knows. Maybe I’m just a bit drunk but, you look so pretty like this. Peach coloured cheeks and that smile. Damn. See this is what I said to Robin, Eddie Munson just- well just looking at him opened my eyes to who I am.”

Steve interrupted himself, realising he’d said that all out loud. After a few seconds of consideration in his head, he was too drunk to care.

“You looking at me with those doe eyes in biology, it made me realise yeah so I’m like definitely bisexual.”

He felt a huge weight lifted off his shoulders, looking down at Eddie who had practically shrunk so far down into the couch that he looked like a part of it. But he was still smiling, still looking at him in the same way.

He lifted himself, sitting upright with his back against the cushions. Grabbing two bottles, ripping the caps off with his teeth.

“Interesting.” Munson divulged, not even noticing that the entire party was staring at them both with their jaws to the floor.

“You owe me 20 dollars!! I told you!!”

Henderson rose up, laughing and pointing at Mike. He always did like to be proved right. The party later found out that Dustin was certain his ‘gay-dar’ was spot on but Wheeler told him it was just broken, it was smashed right into the ground.

“I TOLD you guys, but hey, what do I know?”

Cherry-faced, Steve and Eddie looked at each other, and back at the party, and in perfect unison took several big swigs of their beers.

[luveline]

What about Eddie comforting sunshine reader? Like she’s worried they’ll break up bc of how different they are

thank you for your request! —you worry that you and eddie are too different to last. he changes your mind. fem!reader, fluff + hurt/comfort, 1.3k

"Can I turn this?" Eddie asks. 

You look up from your nails as soon as you can, meeting Eddie's eyes before following his hand and gaze to the rearview mirror. 

"Yeah, 'course you can. I'll turn it back." 

Eddie nods appreciatively and turns your rearview to face him in the passenger seat. His van can't make big trips without blowing a gasket or springing a leak, leaving you behind the wheel of your slightly less dilapidated Escort for tonight's excursion. 

You tear your attention from him to put the brush back into your precariously balanced nail polish and crank down the window, airing out the fumes. Eddie hasn't complained about the smell. He complains about lots of things, but never you. 

That doesn't mean he isn't thinking those complaints, though.

The longer he goes without chastising you, the more you worry. Eventually, you're going to irritate him. You'll be too loud, too saccharine, too much. 

"Got your glitters?" he asks, pulling down the soft skin under his eye, eyeliner pencil poised at his waterline 

"What?" 

Eddie pencils eyeliner under his bottom lashes. "For your nails." 

You watch him draw a messy line. He knows what he wants and after a handful of seconds he's rubbing it out with his pinky fingertip and moving to his other eye. 

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asks. 

"What?" 

Eddie stops drawing on his eyeliner to look at you with fond puzzlement. "Is something wrong?" 

He looks casually cool in his way. Dark hair darker in the evening light, pale skin blown out and his eyes big and sugary. You look at him and feel melted by your affection for him, wanting to reach out and wrap a ringlet of his hair around your finger teasingly, or pet the slope of his cheek with the back of your hand. 

Especially when he's asking you questions like that, delivered without any grandeur. 

"No, I don't think so. Why, is something wrong with you?" You lean back in your chair and close your eyes. "I'm tired already. We need to stop making late night plans." 

"We could get a motel if you don't wanna drive again tonight." You don't see Eddie turn back to his make up, assuming he does when the weight of his gaze is alleviated, and his words come out distractedly slow, "I know that there's… something bothering you. Tell me what it is so I can kiss it better." 

"You'd like that, Munson," you tease. 

"I'd really like that. It would be the highlight of my night." 

There's a wooden plink of the pencil being dropped and the plastic sound of the glove compartment being opened and quickly closed. You spy through barely parted lashes as Eddie leans across the console, eyes widening to look down your nose while he draws ever closer. 

He kisses you quickly, misaligned but well-meaning. 

"Tell me what's wrong and I'll make it worth it," Eddie promises. He's flirting now, the cadence of his voice rougher, his brows lifting ever so slightly. "Is it something serious?" 

"Not really," you say, leaning back as his hand finds your hip, and his index finger slides under the hem of your t-shirt. 

He draws a ticklish circle. "You know I wanna hear it? Whatever it is…" His middle finger joins his index, then his whole hand is under your shirt and sliding across your naked stomach. 

You laugh and clamp a hand down on him. "It's stupid, and it'll sound stupider out loud." 

"Nice, I like stupid shit. If you don't tell me we'll just have to play hooky in your cold car all night and miss the show." He says it like that's more than alright in his book —he makes playing hooky sound like staying at the Ritz.

He pulls you as close to him as he can considering your impossible seats and brings his free hand to your neck. "If you tell me, I'll give you one of those massages you just hate," he offers quietly, the slightest dip of salaciousness all but smothered in concern. 

You won't torture him, even if admitting what's wrong will make you feel like you're standing naked by the side of the I-64. 

"Do you ever worry that me and you are too different?" you ask. 

"Too different?" he repeats, giving your hip a mindless squeeze. "I've never worried that, no." 

"Just 'cos, you're all– you like rock shows 'n' macabre movies. You hate the radio, you say that the colour yellow gives you a headache–" 

"I don't hate yellow." 

"You squint when I wear my yellow sweatshirt." 

Eddie nods severely. "Well, you figured us out. We should break up now, before we get any more serious." He lifts your chin with his thumb and guides your face to his for a kiss. "You don't mind rock shows," he says against your lips, tip of his thumb stroking a short, soft line. 

"I like 'em 'cos they make you happy." 

"That's why I don't hate the radio, either. I don't like half of the stuff they play, but I leave it on because I," —his lips move to the corner of your lips, dipping in for a kiss and then sitting back in his seat— "love to watch you." 

"What, when I do my Madonna impression?" you ask jokingly. 

Eddie's answering smile is far from joking. "I love all your impressions. I love everything you do, all that shit that makes us different are just reasons I like you. Your long stories, your magazine quizzes, your glittery nails. I really like your nails." 

"You do?" you ask. 

"It's nice when you ask me what colours to use, and you make a really cute face when you put the glitter on with a toothpick." He scrunches his eyes. "Like this." 

You laugh, startled. "That's me?" 

"That's you." Eddie brings both hands to your face and presses his thumbs to the apple of your cheeks. He turns your head gently from left to right. "Do you think we're too different?" 

"Kind of. What if you get tired of it, you know? What if one day you look over and you think, fuck, I wish the radio would just break already?" 

Eddie laughs with a giggle bordering ecstatic, a matching smile playing over his pretty mouth. "That's not going to happen!" he says through it, thumbs rubbing a steady back and forth into your cheeks. "I'm never going to look at you and think that. The only stuff I think about when I look at you is how I fucking worship you, baby." 

You turn your cheek indulgently into his hand, like the girls in the chick flicks with the handsome movie stars. He doesn't look like the average leading man, but all the things that disqualify him for pop movies are the things that drew you in —his unruly curls, his dark tattoos, the funny way he smirks like he's the only one who knows a scandalous secret. 

He smiles at you now like you know the secret too. 

"Let's stay different," Eddie says, hands falling to yours to give them a shake. "We only need one thing in common." 

You lean over the console. He's right, you decide, as his soft lips press against the seam of your own, encouraging you to part them gently. Your noses press together, Eddie's hand sliding up your forearm, that common thing sewn into each millimetre of movement and every second of his kiss. The only thing you need to be the same between you is how you feel about one another. 

Plus, he worships you? 

You hook an arm behind his head and pull him closer. Your twin smiles make it hard to kiss, but you keep trying.

[princesslightgiggles]

Not so scary Eddie

It had been a harrowing day, but at least everyone was safe for now. Eddie Munson’s caravan had become an impromptu refuge, a haven amidst the chaos. Wayne was working that night, and the younger kids had passed out in the bedrooms, exhausted from the day's events. In the living room, Eddie lay sprawled out on the worn-out sofa, his favorite horror film flickering on the TV.

You stood in the doorway, glancing at the lack of space on the couch. Eddie, sensing your presence, turned his head and shot you a cheeky grin. “Hey, Y/N. Couch’s taken, I’m afraid.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked over. “Budge up, Munson.”

Instead of moving, Eddie stretched out further, his grin widening. “Nah, I’m comfy.”

You huffed in mock annoyance before grabbing Eddie’s legs and lifting them up. “Fine, if you won’t move, then I will move you.” You plopped down and placed Eddie’s legs across your lap.

Eddie chuckled, a soft sound that made your heart flutter slightly. You had never hung out in the same circles, but after today’s events, you felt a strange bond with the metalhead. Unbeknownst to you; Eddie had always harbored a quiet crush on you, though he’d never dared to act on it.

You both focused on the movie for a while, the tense atmosphere from earlier slowly giving way to a comfortable silence. Your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on Eddie’s jeans, your mind wandering away from the screen. After a moment, your eyes drifted down to Eddie’s feet, a mischievous idea sparking in your mind.

Without warning, you lightly tickled Eddie’s foot. Eddie flinched slightly but managed to keep a straight face, only a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying him. “What ‘ya doing?” he asked, his voice steady.

You smirked, not buying his nonchalance for a second. “Just seeing if the mighty Eddie Munson has a weakness.”

Eddie shrugged, placed his arms back behind his head in a relaxed position and feigned indifference as you continued your gentle assault. “Nope, no weaknesses to speak of,” he said, though his voice was a bit tighter.

“Oh really?” You arched an eyebrow, increasing the intensity of your tickling. Eddie’s efforts to maintain his composure were impressive; he bit his lip and clenched his fists, his face only slightly flushed.

You kept at it, determined to break him. “Come on, Eddie, I know you’re holding back.”

Eddie shook his head, but his resolve was weakening. “Not at all,” he said, though the strain was evident in his voice.

You smirked, your fingers dancing across his soles. “You’re like a stone, Munson. No reaction at all?”

Eddie’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he almost managed to keep his cool. But your persistence paid off as you found a particularly sensitive spot under his toes; Eddie’s composure cracked, and a strangled laugh escaped his lips.

“There it is!” You crowed triumphantly, pulling his toes back and doubling down on the ticklish spot. Eddie broke, unable to hold back giggles any longer.

“Okay, okay, truce!” Eddie gasped between laughs, grabbing at your hands. “I’m really ticklish, alright? You win.”

You laughed along with him, your own spirits lifting as you watched Eddie’s usually confident demeanor crumble under your touch. “You’re like a little kid, Munson.”

Eddie finally managed to grab your hands, pulling them away from his feet and holding them in his own. He was still laughing, his face flushed from the tickling. “Alright, you’ve had your fun and now you’re done. Leave my feet alone!”

But you weren’t done yet. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you wiggled your fingers closer to Eddie’s ribs. “Ok. Maybe I should test some other spots.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “No, no, no—” But it was too late. Your fingers found his ribs, and Eddie dissolved into a fit of laughter, squirming and trying to wriggle away. “Sta…. staaaahp….. please!”

You grinned, now thoroughly enjoying yourself. “Oh, come on. You have no weaknesses, remember?” You moved your fingers to Eddie’s armpits, wiggling them with relentless precision.

Eddie’s reaction was immediate and dramatic. He bucked and howled with laughter, clamping his arms down. His laughter became more desperate. But he had trapped your wiggling fingers in their target and couldn’t work out how to stop you. “No, not there! Anywhere but there!” he begged, tears of laughter streaming down his face.

You relented, pulling your hands away and giving Eddie a moment to catch his breath. “Wow, you’re really ticklish,” you teased, but your fingers were already moving again, targeting Eddie’s hips.

The moment your fingers brushed Eddie’s hips, he let out a very unmanly scream. “Nuh uh….. hahahaha….plea…. hahahahahaha…… please…. mercy!” he pleaded, shaking his head wildly. His floppy curls a tangled mess around his face. This was clearly his most ticklish spot. Eddie twisted and writhed, but in this state could not form a coherent thought long enough to work out how to escape your scribbling fingers. His laughter grew silent, as your fingers danced mercilessly on his hips. Eddie was losing his mind and all he could do was shake his head from side to side.

“Okay…… okay……. truce! Please…… Mercy!” I admit it, I am weak, you have bested me! Eddie managed to gasp out,

You finally stopped, your own laughter mingling with Eddie’s. “Alright, Munson, I think you’ve had enough.”

“You think?” Eddie glared at you, his body trembling with residual giggles.

He lay there, panting and grinning. “You’re... you’re pure evil, Y/N. I always thought you were a nice girl.”

You stared at him, taking in the tousled, blushing mess of a boy in front of you, the noise of the movie fading into the background. Eddie looked away, embarrassed by your gaze and recent discovery. “And I always thought you were a bit scary.” You shrugged.

Eddie’s voice was softer when he spoke again. “You know, you’re pretty cool, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a warm feeling spreading through them. “I’m glad I’m here too, Eddie.”

Eddie moved further into the coach and motioned for you to lay down in front of him. As the night went on, you both eventually fell asleep. For a little while, the world outside didn’t matter. They had found a moment of peace, and in that moment, they were exactly where they needed to be.