#eddie munson is so hot

[plistommy]

Steve takes Eddie’s virginity by riding the older boy after a long session of smoking and drinking inside the metalheads cramped van.

He’d praise Eddie on how good he’s making him feel, how big his dick is and how he’s so pretty under him that it makes Eddie moan loudly, strong hands roaming and squeezing the fat of Steve’s ass as he begs to fuck Steve harder.

”I need to fuck you, Steve- please, sweetheart-”

Steve would kiss him, sloppy and wet as he whines into Eddie’s mouth when the dick inside him hits just right.

When he pulls back, breathless, he picks up the pace and finally lets Eddie buck up to meet his thrusts.

Eddie would just look up at Steve, brown eyes wide and realize he’s so in love with the gorgeous boy on top of him and he never wants to let go. Never.

[donttellunclesam]

"Steve throws one of those raised-eyebrow looks over his shoulder. 'You coming?' he calls, badly hiding a laugh as he watches Eddie waddle along behind him in his big dumb yellow jacket."

haz read my mind and wyn asked nicely, so here it is! based on the lovely, sexy, hilarious collab fic baby it's cold outside (but it's real warm in your mouth) by @wynnyfryd and @griefabyss69

[morganbritton132]

Fan: *trying to film Corroded Coffin carrying their equipment in to a local show for their CC blog*

Steve: *trying to help by carrying Eddie’s guitar*

Eddie: Wow, that looks heavy. Need help? *grabs hold of Steve’s free hand and interlocks their fingers* Better?

[munsondjarin]

you absolutely love hearing eddie nerd out. when he apologized for ranting once, you admit that not only do you think it’s really cute, but it’s a bit of a turn on. he never lets that fact go. you’re making out on his bed and he starts trailing kisses up your jaw. nearing your ear, he leans in to whisper “wanna hear about the different types of orcs?” you whip your head at him in confusion before he continues whispering in your ear, deepening his voice. “there’s uruk-hai, actually uruk means orc in black speech..” you fight back a laugh and he pulls away just enough for you to see the smirk on the corner of his lips. days later when he picks you up for a date and sees your outfit, he immediately goes “have i ever told you about the fall of gondolin?” as he wiggles his eyebrows. it becomes a common occurrence, hot whispers about elven politics and defeating dnd monsters in hopes to hear you giggle and feel your smile against his lips.

[the-angst-chronicles-fanworks]

Eddie accidentally outing himself to Steve and then immediately panicking that Steve is gonna know he’s into him so he starts rambling like “oh but don’t worry I’m not into you or anything, like you’re not even my type man, yeah I’m actually more into… werewolves? Yeah, yeah I want to get railed by a werewolf so don’t even worry about it”

And internally he’s screaming at himself to shut the fuck up because did he just tell Steve Harrington that he wants to get railed by a werewolf? What the fuck Eddie? It’s not like he’s totally lying about that (though he’s also very much into Steve) but that’s not something to just tell people

Meanwhile Steve is devastated because his crush just confessed to liking boys and then in the same breath said he’d never be into him.

Anyway this is the precursor to a werewolf Steve fic idk

[domsaysstuff]

I think the dynamic of Steve being so fucking stupidly gone on Eddie Munson and Eddie not noticing because he's trying to not think abt Steve like that "because Steve is straight and his friend and he can't go there (he goes there, he crushes so hard but he will deny)" is so underappreciated

Like so many fics paint Steve as this himbo and he is! He is our lovable himbo! But just

Let him look at the rat feral man that Eddie Munson is and be like "i want this man's dick in me ASAP" and being so obvious abt it

Confident in his sexuality and determined to get what he wants Steve Harrington just flirting with Eddie and, sure, being a cringe fail loser abt it, but like HE'S SO OBVIOUS

Everybody knows he wants that dick EXCEPT Eddie

Steve is in misery, in hell, by this point he thinks that either Eddie isn't into him or just is letting him down

And Eddie thinks he is the one in misery because Steve is just always there™ and trying to be his friend and is so hot™ and jOkIngLy flirting with him and he wants to kiss him so bad but "stevie is straight and totally not into him guys :(("

Robin is just laughing at them "this world is so lucky you two can't have biological children together, because let me tell you, these kids would be so dumb"

[kennahjune]

I’m a firm platonic stonathan believer (and romantic but that’s not what this post is about).

And I love Steve and Jonathan being really friendly albeit awkward with each other.

But you know what I absolutely LOVE?

Stonathan who can’t STAND each other.

But would also go to fucking war for each other.

Some asshole is being a prick to Jonathan in school? The dudes suddenly thrown off of every sports team he’s on and the principal is fully aware of every time he cheated on a test. Steve just so happens to be at the high school that day to pick up the kids.

There’s some dickwad giving Steve a hard time at work every day? The guys windshield is busted in and car’s been keyed. Jonathan was totally just stopping by Family Video for a movie at the same time.

It’s just so funny to me. The idea of them both putting on this kind of mask around the whole group where everyone thinks they’re at least friendly with each other— the awkwardness is a given, honestly.

But then when it’s just them— getting high together or smth idk— they trade insults that would have anyone else in a ball crying.

And then them both slowly coming out of their shells around the whole group.

And the first time it happens Steve had called Jonathan a home wrecker and in turn Jonathan called Steve a whore.

Everyone was flipping shit trying to make them both apologize to each other before another fight broke out. But Jonathan and Steve sat and laughed at them.

Nobody ever gets used to their bitter teasing towards each other (nobody’s ever heard Jonathan use such foul language) but they learn to accept that that’s just how they are with each other.

This is kinda like a begrudging sibling-bonded stonathan.

This is also how I imagine madwheeler being btw. But I’ll make them their own post eventually.

[tiny-perfectlygroovycolor]

[mcdynamite]

When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.

Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?

Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.

It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.

He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.

The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?

Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.

The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.

It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season." 

He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.

The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.

What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.

Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.

Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.

Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.

He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-

"Eddie?"

Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?

Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.

Christ, this is going to be so bad.

So, so bad.

"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"

Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.

"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."

Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.

"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"

Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."

That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.

But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.

Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.

Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.

It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.

"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.

His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.

It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.

NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.

It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.

His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.

The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.

"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.

Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?

"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."

So much for plausible deniability.

He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.

"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."

The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.

"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.

"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."

Eddie freezes.

"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"

Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable? 

"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"

"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"

"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.

"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"

"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"

At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.

Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.

"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."

"You... I... What? Since when?"

"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."

Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"

Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way. 

"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.

Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles. 

If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be. 

"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."

"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.

"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.

If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."

A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes. 

And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.

"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."

Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.

"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."

Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.

"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"

Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.

So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.

He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.

"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."

There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.

It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.

Eddie wonders if maybe they were.

When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.

"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."

Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."

And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.

Eddie can't fucking wait.

He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.

Oh, God, he gets it.

Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.

He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.

Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...

And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.

Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."

Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.

"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."

Steve just smiles and kisses him again.

[artaxlivs]

"What is it?" Eddie asks, dipping down to brush the tip of his nose against Steve's bicep.

"No," Steve shakes his head, hides his face between his shoulder and his pillow, "you'll laugh."

"I always laugh, Harrington." Eddie grins, bites the meat of Steve's arm playfully, "Bullying you is how I express my love."

Steve snorts out a laugh, rolls himself halfway up and yanks Eddie in to tuck under his chin before curling around him. "You must really love me."

Eddie noses along his jaw, kisses the underside, sticks out his tongue and licks it, "I really do." And he does. Obsessively. Who wouldn't? Steve is...perfect. But real, too. Sweet and kind. A little bitchy. Kind of an air head. Great ass. Hands that can make Eddie hard from across a room. And that side smile? Fuck. Yeah, he really does.

"Tell me," Eddie demands, pushing Steve over onto his back and grappling his hands until he's holding them down on the pillows next to Steve's head.

Steve's pupils dilate, his breath catches but he wrestles Eddie back over onto his back, flipping their positions again, "If you tempt me with that sweet ass of yours, Eds, I won't tell you." Then he sort of growls, dipping down to nibble up the column of Eddie's throat, pressing his hands into the pillows, tangling their fingers together as he slides his legs down and presses his hips into Eddie's.

Groaning and arching up into it, Eddie moans, "You're being distracting on purpose!"

Leaving a trail of wet lip prints, Steve kisses down Eddie's chest, whispers, "Am I?" into the warm skin there. Sinks his teeth in gently, makes Eddie pull a breath in sharp between his teeth as he writhes under Steve.

"Steeeve." Eddie whines. Then he almost gets the wind knocked out of him as Steve clamors up and flops down flat on his chest like damn golden retriever.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." Steve says, biting his own lip and looking down into Eddie's eyes. He's nervous so Eddie doesn't poke fun again, just waits, runs his hands up and down Steve's naked sides and along the waistband of his sweats. "I want to ...I want to go to college," He finally gets out, setting his jaw, determined. "I want to be a teacher."

Eddie smiles, big and bright because he's so proud that this is his guy, this is his person. This man who loves to help people. Who loves to protect them and make sure they feel loved. It's the perfect career choice. How did Eddie get so lucky?

He knows, though, that Steve doesn't do great with praise or adoration. That it makes him uncomfortable. That he needs to be teased, needs to fade into the background, be unassuming and unobserved. Unlike Eddie who kicks lunches off tables and proclaims himself a freak. So instead of gushing about what a great teacher Steve's gonna make, Eddie teases, "Do I get to call you Mr. Harrington during sex? Will this lead to sexy roleplay?"

Sighing, Steve rests his forehead on Eddie's like he's not totally turned on even though they can both feel just how much of a lie that is, "If, by sexy roleplay, you mean am I gonna make you write lines while I jerk off without you - then yes."

Eddie makes a strangled noise in his throat because, yeah, he's actually super into that, Mr. Harrington.

[userchai]

boy & girl dinner

[donttellunclesam]

drunk walk home: halloween edition

(close ups under the cut)

[quinn-joseph]

"He's not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?"

[raeofgayshine]

Thinking again about the fact that when Eddie and Dustin finally convince Steve to play DnD with the party, all of them, but especially Eddie, quickly become exasperated with Steve who has extremely high charisma, and decides that he can fix almost any situation by flirting with whoever they were in conflict with. Especially the fucking monsters, this man is bound and determined to himself a monster boyfriend and until it happens, he will make every single person they come across fall in love with him. So naturally, this happens a lot:

Steve: I’m going to flirt with them

Eddie, exasperated: Steve, you can’t date this monster, he’s trying to kill you-

Steve: Hot.

Steve: I’ll flirt with them harder then

[roanniom]

eddie fucking ur tits omfg

Eddie Munson x fem!reader // 18+ mdni

When you come home and find the bed covered in towels and Eddie sitting, waiting for you with a massive smile, you know exactly what he’s in the mood for. You huff and joke, but you both know that you’re more than happy to indulge him.

It’s a messy process, covering your chest in lube. Eddie likes it messy - likes it wet. But you know that the unspoken thing is that he doesn’t want you to feel even a tiny bit of unwanted friction. So the glide is at a maximum as he thrusts his cock between your breasts, pushes up and together by your hands.

“Fuck, baby, been thinking about this all day,” he groans. You smile at him.

“You’re a dirty man, Eddie Munson. You know that?”

“Fuck,” Eddie grunts. His hips stutter and he takes a second to play with your nipples. “Say it again.”

“You’re dirty,” you say, slow this time. Huskier with a lower voice. Eddie shudders and resumes his pace.

“I’m dirty,” he confirms. The way the fat, reddened head of his cock appears and disappears and reappears again in the valley of your cleavage makes him feel absolutely feral. “These tits are mine.”

“Mmmyeah?” you ask, playing it up all breathy for him. You have no problem getting a little showy for Eddie like this because you know he’ll have you on your hands and knees and panting the second he recovers from his orgasm.

“Fuck. Yeah.”

“Gonna cum on your tits?” You goad, biting your lip both to be sensual and also because it’s a silly thing to say. But Eddie is rocked by it, as evidenced by the way his hips stutter even more.

“Shit, yeah, gonna cum on my tits baby. Mine.”

~*~

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Thanks for reading ♥️

[maxinemaxmayfield]

For the STWG daily drabble prompt: lifeguard (gen, 369 words, vaguely pre-steddie)

“Stupid fucking idea,” Eddie grumbles as he shoves an old towel into his backpack. “Stupid fucking Jeff, stupid fucking heat wave.” 

It’s the hottest of hot Indiana summer days. It’s relentless, inescapable, not even the hint of a breeze to take the edge off. Even with his hair piled on top of his head, Eddie can feel the beads of sweat collecting at the nape of neck. 

It was stupid Jeff’s stupid idea to join the lemmings at Hawkins public pool, rather than just sit there rotting in Gareth’s garage or Eddie’s trailer. Eddie had agreed in a moment of weakness, as he was lugging his amp to the back of his van under the baking sun. 

Now, he’s sitting here looking at his old tattered shorts and pasty white skin, filled to the brim with regret. Between the screaming kids and asshole jocks, it’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t snap. 

He zips up his bag and sighs, slinging it over his shoulder.

It’s packed when they arrive. Overheated residents of Hawkins crowd every inch of the concrete around the pool, and bodies are crammed in the water like sardines. 

Eddie doesn’t say a word, just gives Jeff a look of disdain. He rolls his eyes, giving Eddie a shove towards a tiny, unclaimed corner of pavement. 

“You got a better idea to stop us from melting?” 

He doesn’t, so he keeps his mouth shut and lays out his towel, managing to get a quarter of it in the blessed shade of a nearby tree. 

The rest of the boys head straight for the pool, but Eddie waves them off, scoping out the place, on high alert for anyone who could make this day even more hellish. 

Luckily, none of the usual tormentors seem to be around, probably all gathered at some rich kid’s private pool. Some rich kid like Harring—

Just as he thinks it, his eyes land on the lifeguard station. And there, in his terribly short shorts and dreadfully tight tank, whistle glinting in the sun where he holds it between his teeth, sits the very rich kid who had just crossed his mind. 

Well, if nothing else, at least Eddie can enjoy the view.