#eddie munson vibes

[kermit-the-hag]

Julien Solomita's "Bi Energy" 4/??

Feat. T-shirt that reads " Don't Call Me Soy Boy - I'm A Soy Man"

Julien's Twitch

[lilpomelito]

my favorite thing about Steve is that he’s actually a very confident guy, overconfident I would say sometimes, so in my head he has the shortest gay crisis ever like he realizes on a random Tuesday morning while slowly rotting on his costumer service job that his weird fixation with Eddie and how close he is with that punk dude from the Hideout is jealousy actually, so that means he has a crush on Eddie. Huh, that’s weird, has he had crushes on guys before? Maybe, his friendship with Tommy was intense and weirdly possessive actually, and their fight did feel like a breakup kind off and Tommy did behave like a bitter ex afterwards… also now that he thinks about it his obsession with the captain of the baseball team who was a senior when he was a junior was totally a crush in retrospective. And as he comes to this conclusion he also thinks damn what a waste, I could 100% have pulled him. So that same day he’s driving to Eddie’s place like “hi i’m taking you out” and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s about to be wine and dinned or murdered in the middle of the woods but he’s also a weak weak man for pretty boys so he just follows where Steve tells him to go. They have a lovely date at the dinner and then drive up to the quarry to see the sunset and then a very intense makeout sesh in the back of Steve’s car when Eddie remembers to ask him if he’s even into guys. Steve who already has his hands in Eddie’s pants looks him dead in the eye and says “yeah since this morning I think, but also since forever.” And Eddie who had to spend years slowly crawling his way out of Narnia to even admit to himself he was gay even less admitting it to others just blinks and accepts the fact that yeah, Steve Harrington has always had that vibe actually, and resumes kissing him.

[hairmetal666]

The worst thing that ever happened to Eddie Munson is a spinning studio opening in the building next to the neighborhood store he runs with his uncle.

"That's the third one today," Eddie whines as soon as the door snicks shut behind a woman with a glossy high ponytail and electric pink polka dot Lululemon sports bra and bicycle short set.

"You see her ponytail?" Nancy asks. She's flipping through a stack of flashcards. "Never seen a twenty-five year old look fresh off a facelift."

"I hate them so much. What kind of job is 'cycling instructor' anyway?"

"I'm concerned about the amount of makeup they wear to workout. That's gotta be bad for the pores."

"I'm concerned about the collective IQ holding that operation together. Like, do they know how to get out if there's a fire alarm?"

Nancy shoves him, but snickers too. It's not like he really has anything against the instructors. They're fine. Polite and usually harmless. It's the principle of it. It's not fair, that they get to continue into an adulthood that's still all about them being pretty and popular, without any substance.

"You've done college bio," he says. He notices a couple of cereal boxes have fallen over, hops off the counter to push them back in place. "What are the chances their muscles are so big it's cutting off the blood flow to their brains? Is that a thing that can happen?"

There's no response from the front of the store, which isn't unusual. Mostly, she lets him talk and chimes in when the mood strikes. Since she seems uninterested in offering her input, he straightens the cereal and keeps gabbing.

"The other day, one of the guys came in, and his shorts were so tight, I could see his balls. Not just the outline, but the wrinkles. I could almost make out individual pubes. Is that one of those things where they pretend they're limiting drag, or whatever, to improve their speed? Even though it's a stationary bike--"

He turns, the shelves straightened, and literally only three feet from him is one of the aforementioned cycling instructors. Unfortunately, he's the most beautiful man Eddie has ever seen. Even more unfortunately, he definitely heard Eddie making fun of them.

"Uhh," Eddie says.

The guy smiles. "Sorry, my giant muscles make it hard to get around sometimes."

And Eddie just. Like. What the fuck. "That must make it difficult to cycle." God, god but this guy is so fucking, devastatingly hot and all Eddie has done is antagonize him. And not even intentionally!

"I get by," he smiles and Eddie almost swoons. "Hey, when I bend down, can you let me know about the ball sitch? I have a wholesome image to maintain."

Is he flirting? It seems like he's flirting? But that's weird, right? He caught Eddie talking shit, why would he--

"It would be my pleasure to look at your balls," his mouth says before his brain can catch up.

The guy snorts, smile getting bigger. "I don't know, now I might be self-conscious. Might have a wayward pube."

"How will you know if someone doesn't take a look?"

The guy steps closer, cocks his head to the side. He's got this impressive sweep of hair that barely tumbles, his throat dotted with cute little moles and freckles. Eddie's mouth is watering, why is his mouth watering? "I usually get to know someone a little bit better before they get that privilege."

For once, he's speechless and now he's blushing, can feel it up to his ears and down to his nipples.

The guy leans even closer, breath ghosting against Eddie's skin. "Too bad you hate exercise instructors."

This social interaction has already been a disaster, but he makes it even worse by responding with an indignant squeak.

The guy winks, can't hide his genuine amusement at Eddie's expense. "You ever want to make it up to me, you can come to one of my classes."

With that, he walks up to Nancy at the counter, and Eddie gets his first look at the single most glorious ass he's ever seen. His mouth literally drops open as he watches how it jiggles, perfect and round, and he wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship it right then and there.

Eddie's dumbstruck for a little too long, almost misses as the cycling instructor heads for the door. "How can I take your class if I don't know your name?" He shouts.

The instructor half turns, the sexiest, smuggest smile on his pretty face. "It's Steve!" He yells back.

"I'm Eddie!"

"I know!"

The door closes and he turns to Nancy. "How--how did he know my name?"

Nancy rolls her eyes, goes back to her flashcards. "You're wearing a name tag, you absolute dork."

Eddie knows he's a man of weak will. Is not completely surprised when, after a month of meanly flirtatious interactions, Steve leans across the counter to taunt, "you do one cycling class with me and I'll take you out to dinner."

He's fresh from a workout, hair still damp and messy from the shower. Eddie thinks he's about to lose his mind, desire a clawing beast gnawing on his bones.

"Oh, so I might finally get the opportunity to check out your balls?"

Steve's cheeks go very pink, and something tight and hot tugs in Eddie's abdomen. "If you play your cards right."

[jaebeomsbitch]

The Princess and Eggplant (E.M.)

Summary: Your boyfriend happens to be a foot taller than you...or Eddie is afraid to stick it all the way in, afraid to hurt you

Warnings: Minors DNI, size kink, pure smut

Pairings: Boyfriend!Eddie x Girlfriend!Reader

A/N: watching Sex and the City and couldn’t stop thinking about the size difference between Carrie and Aidan. As a 5'1 they/them I'm drooling. Literally finished this a while ago but couldn't find a good gif, I'm gonna start making my own banners

Like Eddie holding you up, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his big hands on your ass. His tongue in your mouth as he kisses you more and more aggressively until you can’t breath and your head is spinning. The way he manhandles you, impaling his thick cock inside you as he grits his teeth trying to control himself from being too rough. But his cock only fits half way and you’re clinging onto his shoulders moaning like a ghost in a haunted house.

You heave for air as his cock knocks the wind out of you. He lays you out on the bed, your hair fanning out as he yanks you to the edge of the bed.

“Fuck sweetheart” he groans looking at the way his cock disappears inside of you. His neck straining as he holds himself back.

“More Eddie, fuck give me more” you gasp, your nails digging into his back.

“S-shit baby, don’t wanna hurt you” he grunts, slowly pulling out and back halfway in. As he refuses to go deeper, his eyes already rolling back as your tight velvet walls grip onto him.

“Please Eddie” you whine, pressing the heels of your feet into his ass forcing him deeper into you. Your jaw slacks as you’re stretched open by your boyfriend.

“S-shit s-so fucking big” you moan pressing your chest into his.

“F-fuck you’re gonna kill me” he groans voice higher pitched then normal. He hisses, teeth clenched tightly as he tries to remain still. However you don’t give him the chance, you dig your feet deeper into his pale ass. Pushing him inch by inch slowly into you until his hips are flush with your ass.

Eddie knows that he needs to be the one to slow down, but it's hard when you feel this good - especially when you're moaning like that. He hasn’t even moved and yet you’re already cock drunk. You’re drooling and moaning incoherently as Eddie’s cock fits like a puzzle piece inside you, nice and deep.your pussy struggles to accommodate the stretch. Your walls pulse around him almost like it’s trying to push Eddie out. 

His arms shake as he shallowly thrusts into you, little grunts leaving his lips. 

“Fuck Princess, so fucking tight” he whines. 

“S-shit it’s like you’re fucking choking my cock” he grunts out, looking at the slight bulge in your lower stomach every time he slides back in. The sight is enough to make him cum right then and there. 

“F-fuck fuck fuck ohhhh fuck” you moan underneath him trying to grind into him but his grip on your hips tightens. You know he’s gonna leave bruises on you but you fucking love it. Love that he’s practically whimpering “princess” under his breath like a broken record, like he needs to burn the feeling and imagine in his head. 

“More, Eddie please-” you whine, your pussy pulsing around him desperately trying to drag him back in. He shakes his head vehemently, his jaw tight as he grinds his teeth. No girl could ever take his full cock before and much less someone so petite. 

“So fucking perfect Princess. Your pussy’s taking me so fucking good. Fucking stretching out to fit my cock baby” he grunts out starting to lose his reserve. His hips move slightly faster as he feels the burn deep in his gut. 

“Made f’you Eds” you nod, eyebrows pinched together as he pulls the rubber band tighter. You flex your stomach trying to keep it together. Your moans getting louder as his his resolve starts to slack more and more. 

It isn’t long until he’s snapping his hips into yours looking like a man possessed. He’s fucking feral, hair wild, pupils blown out, neck flexed. His whole body is tense as he pounds into you fast and hard completely breaking you down. 

You’re more than cock drunk at this point. Babbling gibberish, writhing under him, pulling at the sheets, your eyes closed shut as you’re in your own little world taking Eddie’s thick cock. 

“Jesus fucking Christ” Eddie moans at the sight of you. Most girls would’ve cried in pain, he always needed at least an hour of stretching and foreplay to get half way in and yet here you are taking it.

“M’gonna cum!” You cry, stomach flexing harder, your muscles tightening almost painfully. 

“Fuck- cum on my cock, Princess,” he pants, his balls slapping into your ass, hand pressing into your stomach feeling the bulge of his cock.

“Ohh fuck- fuck- fuckkk fuckkk” you all but scream as you let go. You tremble under Eddie’s body, face contorted, jaw slacked, drool dripping down your chin. It’s like you’re high and drunk at the same time. 

“That’s it Princess milk my fucking cock. Taking me so well, begging for my fucking cum” he grunts. His eyes rolling back as he clenched his jaw and comes hard. Thick white ropes paint your velvet walls already dripping down to your ass. Your pussy too small to accommodate both his cock and cum. 

“Shit” he heaves, slowly pulling out not trying to hurt you further. 

“I’m not gonna be able to walk am I?” You groan as he nuzzles into your neck. 

He chuckles,”probably not.”

“You’re the worst” you mumble lightly nipping his bottom lip. 

“Not what you were yelling two seconds ago” he murmurs against your lips. That’s dimpled grin on his face as he presses for a kiss and another and another.  

[sp0o0kylights]

Grass is green, water is wet, and Jonathan Byers does not like Steve Harrington.

These are known facts in the universe.

Computers were going to take over the world, a “mobile” phone was being invented, and Steve Harrington had lost most of his hearing.

These were unknown facts--rumors even, if you will. Eddie had never seen even a grain of truth to support any of them. 

(Well, maybe the computer thing, but only because Grant and Dustin both had made a couple of convincing arguments.) 

So he doesn’t think about it, when his freshman gang up on him. 

Doesn’t even factor the “can’t hear well” thing in, when he was tasked (demanded, whined, bitched and moaned at) with helping them explain to Steve why going to the release party of the new D&D box set, located at a hobby store only a mere 2 hour drive away, was important.

Eddie’s not even sure how the little shits got him to agree to do it until he’s standing in the parking lot in front of the former King himself. 

“The store’s leading up to the release with a handful of one-shots.” He’s explaining, unsure whether to pull out the bored act or play up his court jester persona, and thus mixing and matching on the fly. 

He does not care if Harrington doesn’t know what a one-shot is. 

“They’re releasing the set at midnight. You have to be there to get it though, you can’t have someone else pick it up for you because they only got a certain amount in.” 

Harrington’s frowning (no surprise) but it’s not until Eddie is well into his spiel about how his van is already full with the elder members of Hellfire, and thus has no room for the freshmen, that he realizes Steve isn’t quite looking at him. 

Is in fact, looking over his shoulder.

Eddie stops. Follows Harrington’s gaze.

Parked across from Steve’s Beemer, is Jonathan Byer’s barely working clunker car. 

A handful of steps in front of it, and thus nearly right behind Eddie, is the man himself.

His hands are still moving, mouth shaping words silent as he goes, his gaze locked not on Eddie or the kids--but on Steve. 

Who turns back around as Harrington’s eyes slide right back to him. 

“And this is taking place next Friday?” He says, in that sort of annoyed but resigned way parents aim at their children. “After school?” 

“I’d like to go during  school, but the freshmen insist you wouldn’t let them ditch out.” Eddie tells him. “They had two separate arguments about it.” 

Loud ones, that had interrupted the game and given Eddie a migraine. 

Once again Steve’s eyes slide away from him, to Jonathan. 

“They’re not skipping school.” He says suddenly, a glare forming and Jonathan makes an annoyed noise. 

“They argued about skipping, they’re not going to.” He says aloud, and finally steps up so that he’s next to Eddie instead of behind him. 

“Munson slow down, I can’t sign as fast as you’re talking.” He adds, in the hang-dog grumble he’s notorious for. 

Eddie stares at him. 

“Can he seriously not hear me?” 

“No.” Steve and Jonathan answer together. 

“I can kind of still hear,” Steve adds, gaze returning to Eddie’s face. “But its more loud music or noises. I can lip read, but you’re also talking too fast for that.” 

Without pausing, he turns back to Jonathan and says; “Why can’t you take them?”

“It’s Friday.” Byers deadpans. 

Eddie’s not an expert on sign language, but his hands somehow looked deadpan too. 

He’s not sure how Jonathan did that. 

“So?” Steve snarks back. 

What follows is an argument that Eddie is not, at all involved in, mostly because he’s too busy handling the fact that Jonathan Byers has learned sign language, for Steve Harrington, apparently, and given the tone the argument is taking they still don’t even like each other.  

Eventually the argument ends, Steve throwing his hands in the air and demanding that Jonathan owes him. 

(Eventually Eddie will corner the ever so quiet Will Byers and ask why the hell his brother learned sign language for someone he clearly fucking hates.

“Oh they don’t hate each other.” Baby Byers would say, in that shy, quiet way of his. “I think they’re actually friends now?” 

“You think?”

“Well--you’ve seen them.” Will shrugs. “I think being mean to each other is kinda their thing.” 

‘What the hell.’ Eddie would think, right up until he stumbled across one of the kids sign language books. 

Byers the Elder, he decides, isn’t the only person who should learn sign language to chew out Harrington properly.

The pay off is immediate. 

Or at least, the pay off of watching Steve’s shocked face the first time Eddie signs something vulgar at him is, anyway.)

[thegeeksideofsr]

So I was listening to music today and the song In One Ear by Cage The Elephant came up.

And makes me think of Eddie Munson.

[themostineptthateverstepped]

I went outside with my phone in my pocket playing Black Sabbath, when a squirrel came up to me. So I offered the squirrel my hand to sniff and asked it if it liked Ozzie.

It licked my knuckle, so I'm taking that as a yes?

[cholvoq]

Steve’s not used to petnames and Eddie knows that 💕

[inklessletter]

"Let's run away. Let me take you to the beach. Let me give you the summer as a birthday present. I swear, you won't ever forget it."

☀️

Thank you so much for trusting the process with me again today.

I am honestly so proud of this piece. It took me a thousand hours omg, but... but the fabric, and the skin, and the tattoos, and... and his aura, god. I'm turning this shady, metalhead all time dressed in black, lover of the night and dark things sweetheart into a sun lover. A happy little thing.

[hairmetal666]

Wayne's used to worrying about Eddie. He should be; he's been doing it since the kid was twelve. First it was Eddie's silence, his permanent frown, the way the bones stood out too prominent on his small wrists. Then it was the kids at school, taunting him and calling him names, the fights and calls from the principal's office. Next came the late nights, the drinking, the dealing, failing his senior year twice. But all of those times, every single one, Wayne had known what to do. Maybe it wasn't perfect, maybe it took a little time, but he'd always figured out exactly what his boy needed.

And now--now Wayne doesn't know if he can help; knows it's not in his power to fix it. 

So, he sits for the second week in a row, watching his nephew--his whole heart--sitting in front of the window, looking out at the forest, nursing the same cup of coffee that he poured six hours ago, and wonders how in the world he can help.

They're cleaning up from dinner, Eddie quiet at his side, when he says, "Gonna need some help with the mugs tomorrow."

After moving to Oregon once Eddie graduated and he retired, he found an affinity for pottery. Never woulda thought it, but he loves it and tourists love his booth at the farmers market.

He can't think of a better way to get his nephew out of the house, but wonders if he doesn't know his boy as well as he thinks after a decade in Los Angeles, that Eddie'll refuse. He just nods, though, goes back to drying the plate in his hands.

And next morning, right at 6:45, Eddie is in the living room in black jeans that are so worn they're nearly grey in places, and the threadbare Metallica tee Wayne thrifted for him nearly a decade back. It's a win. Small, yes--Eddie doesn't even complain once about the country-western station Wayne plays in the truck--but still a step forward.

Wayne wastes no time parking and handing Eddie a box of carefully packed merchandise. He leads the way, trusts that Eddie is right on his heels until he hears Jim Hopper's voice say, "You better keep an eye on those mugs, son. Your uncle will tan your hide."

He turns to see Hopper balancing one end of Eddie's box, Eddie's cheeks flushed pink. "Sorry, I--uh, I've got it now." Hopper lets go and for the briefest instant Eddie's eyes dart to the side and the pink in his cheeks grows deeper.

Wayne tracks the path Eddie's eyes took and finds--he swallows back a chuckle--Steve Harrington just setting one of his Adirondack chairs into place, his t-shirt lifted to show of a stretch of stomach.

Well. Eddie did always like the pretty ones.

They setup the booth in companionable silence, and Hopper pops back over for a proper introduction. Before he departs again, he says to Eddie, "I got some kids who really love that dnd game and your show. They're going to be crazy to meet you. That okay?"

And Eddie, he's a good boy, he smiles and nods but as soon as Hopper is out of earshot, Wayne's saying, "Hop's kids and their friends are big fans and I know you're heartsore about the cancellation, but you better be polite."

Eddie glares. "What do you think, old man, that I'll be mean to children?"

"Well, with how you've been moping around the cabin these last few weeks, hard to know."

He scoffs. "Yeah, well. Netflix putting your hit show on indefinite hiatus without warning or explanation will do that to a guy."

Wayne knows there's nothing he can say to soften this hurt, so he gives Eddie's shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm proud of you no matter what, son."

His nephew nods, eyes down, but Wayne doesn't miss the small, pleased, lift at the corner of his lips.

The morning passes smoothly and Wayne pretends he doesn't notice every time he finds Eddie's gaze straying to Steve's booth.

The kids come by around noon, Dustin Henderson breaking away from the pack to shriek, "You're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie smiles, stands. "That I am, young adventurer." He bows low, exaggerated and the kids giggle. "Pray tell, what are your names?"

The chatter is fast and easy, Eddie the happiest he's been in weeks, and Wayne relaxes back in his chair, lets out a long, slow breath of relief at the breaking storm. He stretches back in his chair, eyes catching on Steve Harrington across the way. Steve who is watching Eddie and the kids with an expression Wayne can only think of as fond.

Wayne isn't one to play matchmaker, but--he thinks, just maybe, just this once he could nudge.

It happens late in the afternoon, when business has well-slowed, Eddie asking, "Um--that guy over there, who is--what's his deal?"

Wayne thinks he manages to keep all traces of amusement from his face and voice as he answers, "Who? Ohh, Steve Harrington. He's the guidance counselor down at the middle school. Does a bit of carpentry in his free time. Best friends with the woman who owns that little bookstore."

He watches as Eddie processes, as his eyes widen, probably in remembrance of the pride flags and Protect Trans Kids shirts, how the woman in question wore a lesbian flag pin on her apron. "Guidance counselor?" He says eventually. "Kind of a drag."

"You would think, but the kids love him. The ones you met earlier today? He babysat them for years; imprinted on him, Jim and I say."

"Hmm," is the only response he gets, Eddie's attention back on the man in question.

---

The day after the market, Wayne walks into the living room to find Eddie's laptop tucked into the cushions of the window seat. He hasn't seen the thing since Eddie came home, never used to see him without it, and this--well.

He says, "need to run into town for a few things. You up for a trip? You might could stop at that bookstore."

Eddie nods, takes a sip of his coffee--he's actually drinking it-- says, "Yeah. Yeah, I think that'd be cool."

The store isn't busy when they arrive, and Wayne drifts towards the magazines to leave Eddie to his own devices.

Wayne loses himself to quiet browsing, wanting to give Eddie space, to maybe chat with Robin Buckley, strike up the beginnings of a friendship. Enough time passes, though, that Wayne is wondering where his boisterous, noticeable nephew could've disappeared to so silently.

He winds around a shelf and sees Eddie and Steve Harrington in deep conversation. He can't hear it, not really, but they're standing close, with pink in their cheeks. As he watches, Steve says something that makes Eddie laugh and pull a few strands of hair over his mouth.

They're almost inseparable after that. Eddie, Steve, Robin, and all those kids. They play dnd, have movie nights, spend hours at the diner. And Eddie, he's writing, sketching, gets down Wayne's acoustic guitar and plays around for a while.

When he asks how things are with "that Harrington boy," Eddie flushes red and says, "none of your business, old man" before giving Wayne a quick, affectionate squeeze. 

---

Two and a half months after Eddie came to stay, Wayne's walking back from the river, the sky the light navy of new dusk. His fishing rod is draped over one shoulder, tackle box held easily in his fist, the walk home pleasant, a perfect end to a good day.

The light from the front porch seeps through the trees, and he's thinking about a cold beer, a warm pizza, if Eddie's found his way home yet, when figures standing on the porch stop him in his tracks.

It takes a second, longer, for his eyes to adjust from the dark of the woods, and the glow of the bulb, but then he sees--

Eddie and Steve locked in a fierce embrace, desperate and very much private.

He turns right back towards the river, doesn't mind giving the boys some time.

He waits a good half hour, just enjoying the forest, before heading back. Steve's car is gone, the porch vacant, but the cabin is lit up, bright and warm and inviting.

Wayne steps inside, and his nephew is there, laptop open, but he isn't working, just smiling to himself, chin resting on his fist.

"Okay?" Wayne asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Eddie's smile doesn't fall from his face.

He doesn't want to interfere, ask too much, not when he's sure things are still young. Instead, he asks, "What'd you say to ordering a pizza?"

And Eddie, heedless of Wayne's question, says,"you know. I've been thinking about maybe staying here for a little longer."

And Wayne, his smile grows, and he claps a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You're welcome here for as long as you want. Already consider it your home anyway."

[libraryofgage]

Stardew Valley AU where Eddie is a "burnt out at 27" former rock star who impulse buys a farm in Hawkins Valley for a change and finds he actually really enjoys fixing the place up and getting ridiculously wealthy on cauliflower

Steve is a local who had dreams of being a pro football player but they just...never went anywhere and he somehow ended up local carpenter instead because he likes seeing the appreciation on people's faces when he finishes a job for them

And obviously Eddie needs help fixing up the house, he doesn't know what he's doing there, and Steve spends the whole time talking about the locals until Eddie feels like he's also known them for years and not, like, a week

Anyway Eddie keeps finding increasingly ridiculous jobs around the farm that just can't be done without Steve's help and at some point they kiss about it

[loveinhawkins]

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

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

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

This is something far different. Something precious.

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

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

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

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

Oh, Eddie thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

And oh, Eddie wants. He wants.

[jaebeomsbitch]

Not So Dirty Talk (E.M)

Summary: trying to tell your boyfriend a story in the middle of intimate times?

Gif credit: @foggystreetlights

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, PinV, cream pie, explicit words and actions, unprotected

A/N: had this in the drafts for a while, thought I’d come back with something after not writing for a while. Also thanks for the 300 new followers in the short time I’ve been MIA!

I’m definitely reusing this gif

We’ve always always talked about Eddie babbling during sex, spewing out dirty shit out of his mouth that I’d make a nun blush but what about the times when he slips in slow and steady. Elbows on either side of your head and you accidentally let out a little giggle. His eyes snapping up towards yours.

“What’s so funny princess?” He asks with a dimpled grin. Hips moving ever so slightly inside you letting you adjust, his knees digging into the sheets, thighs pressed into your ass, knees wrapped around his neck.

“Something stupid” you say with a little twinkle in your eyes.

“Yeah? Couldn’t wait baby?” He smiles, moving his hips slow and methodically.

And then you’re just having a full conversation in the middle of sex. His bangs pressed into his forehead with a thin veil of sweat.

“Uh-huh okay then?” He asks breathlessly. His stomach flexing trying to keep himself together but your pussy’s just so warm and enveloping.

You try to keep your thoughts straight, trying to hold onto the thin thread chasing it desperately as you start to stutter “a-an- and t-the fuh-“ your eyes rolling back, fingernails digging into the backs of your thighs.

“Uh-huh and?” He says eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Mmm I- uhh ohh” you gasp out trying to speak desperately but you just can’t.

“Aww, cat got your tongue princess?” He smiles sardonically. His pride swelling seeing you so fucking cock dumb under him. Reduced to a drooling babbling mess.

“Oh- fuck please don’t stop” you moan.

“What’re you gonna do if I do?” He says with that irritating smirk on his face.

“Please- Eddie please don’t” you heave for air, stomach constricting with your impending orgasm.

“Can’t do to stop me sweets, I could stop right now. Leave you crying” he says nipping at your collarbone

“Please Eddie” you beg desperately even though he hasn’t stopped and he has no plans to stop. Your nails leave deep crescent moons in the back of your thighs, your thighs tightening around his neck.

“M’not” he grunts seeing the tears springing in your eyes. His hips slapping against your ass rhythmically.

“Not until you fucking cum all over my cock princess” he continues sounding more and more breathless. The fire at the base of his spine growing and catching like kindling in a chimney.

Your moans start getting more and more high pitched.

“Close m’close,” you nod. Your eyes rolling back, lips falling open, Eddie’s fingers digging into your shoulders as he cradles you close.

Grinding his hips against yours, he groans softly, his grip on your hips tightening. "God, you feel so good," he murmurs, nuzzling against your neck. "So fucking hot."

Your slip your fingers in the small gap between you two circling your clit. You gasp all the sensations overwhelming. The hard press of Eddie’s tattooed chest into your thighs, his scent invading your nose mixed with the smell of sex, the sting of his hips slapping your ass, his fingers digging into your shoulders, thick spreading you open slamming into your cervix leaving you a drooling babbling mess.

You can’t help the sob that leaves your lips. The pleasure crackling in every nerve ending if your body. You shudder underneath Eddie, gasping for air, choked with a moan. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you cum and babble incoherently.

Your warm velvet walls squeezing Eddie’s cock, practically suffocating it. Moaning loudly, he closes his eyes, lost in the sensations coursing through his body. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps as you continue to pull him in creating a delicious friction that sends shivers down his spine. Until he finally lets go, the burn at his spine climbing like a spider in its web.

With a groan, thick white ropes painting your walls as the two of you pant for air. His arms shake as he pushes himself up gently moving your legs down from his shoulders.

“Fuck— that was…” he breathes heavily falling back down into your chest with a thud. His breath hot on your neck as he nuzzles into you. You lazily wrap your arms under his sweaty armpits.

“Didn’t know talking about my sixty year old co-worker would get you so hot” you tease

He chuckles, “there’s just something about Gladys and the way she fucking hates me.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 4

Shoutout to @bloomingconflagration for the title!!! And a HUGE thank you to everyone who left comments or gave suggestions!! I love you all you amazing, silly humans <3 <3 

There comes a time during a long work shift were your average overworked and underpaid employee starts to think they’re hallucinating. 

In Gareth’s case, it was when Steve Harrington walked through the doors of Palace Arcade, making a beeline right for him. 

“Gareth?” Steve asked, like he was the one out of place. “What are you doing here?” 

As if people just randomly stood behind the counter of retail and entertainment spaces with a nametag on. 

You know, for fun.

With a great deal of restraint, Gareth managed to hold the sass back, instead opting for a far more polite; ‘I work here, Harrington. What are you doing here?” 

Because no matter how much Hellfire had adopted Steve into its fold, Gareth could just not see the guy choosing to spend his free time at the local arcade. 

Not of his own free will, anyway. 

“Pick up duty.” Steve said, proving him right not even a second later. 

“Of what?” Gareth asked, puzzled, right before Steve’s name was shouted in stereo.

A miniature stampede took place as several children proceeded to swarm him like oversized puppies, most of them trying to talk at once. 

“One at a time, we talked about this!” Steve barked, loud enough to be heard over the commotion. “You’re giving me and Gareth here a headache!” 

He waved his hands in a “calm down” gesture, shaking his head and looking at Gareth in exasperation. “Probably giving the people in the video store next door one too, lord.”  

“Wait.” A curly-haired kid said, looking between the two older teens like he was watching the laws of the universe rewrite themselves in front of him. “You know Gary? How?”

“We are not close enough for you to call me Gary.” Gareth said dryly, for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. 

This was a regular battle between him and the kids who haunted the arcade.

(One had overheard Grant call him Gary the last time he was in, and ever since, every single child that graced this fine establishment with Cheeto-dusted fingers and candy-induced sugar rushes had decided to replace his actual name with his nickname.

The fact it clearly frustrated him only egged them on. )

“We go to school together Dustin,” Steve said, as if he were talking to someone particularly dense. 

“Yeah? You go to school with lots of people. You bitch about most of them.” Dustin fired back.”Plus Gary’s a total nerd. I bet you call him names.” 

"Hey, language!" 

Gareth’s eyes narrowed as he glared down at the little fucker. He was definitely going to remember Dustin (and equally going to watch and see what arcade games the younger teen played-- and top the score chart of every single fucking one.

He might be a nerd but he wasn’t gonna take that shit from a middle schooler.) 

“Hate to break it to you brats, but your babysitter here just joined our D&D club.” Gareth replied, if only to finally one-up the little bastards. “Our DM is building him a character as we speak.” 

(Which wasn't even a lie. Eddie was building a character for Steve. The guy just refused to give any input on grounds that he "wasn't going to play anyways." )

Abrupt and sudden silence, as several stunned faces stared at him. 

“Oh goddammit.” Harrington cursed, as the entire herd of children turned on him in unison like some kind of hivemind horror monster. 

“You joined the D&D club,” Dustin said slowly, outraged. “And you let them make you a character sheet, but you won’t play with us!?” 

“What the hell Steve!” The sporty-looking one whined, clearly hurt. “You won’t sit in on our games! You said they were lame!” 

“They are lame.” Steve defended immediately, pushing at sporty-kids head. It was fond though, the kind of gentle shove an elder brother gave to a younger one. It caused the kid's camo banana to fall into his eyes, which he adjusted quickly with a grumble. “Turns out the high school version’s cooler.” 

“He’s lying.” That from the bitchy one, whose arms were crossed over his chest, a glare on his face. “Steve probably paid Gary to say that” 

Gareth had seen that exact same stance on Steve at lunch that day, and wondered if the little asshole knew who he was copying when he did it. 

“Who cares about D&D?” This from the redhead, standing with another girl giggling in her ear. “I’m just amazed Steve has friends.” 

“Really Mayfield?” Steve said, looking almost betrayed. As if he thought she was going to be the one to defend him in this weird little showdown.

The girl leaning on her giggled harder, making Mayfield grin (even if she tried to hide it.)  She whispered something, which the redhead outright laughed at before repeating; “Adult friends even!” 

“Okay.” Steve said, clearly cutting the kids off before they could embarrass him further. “Thank you, unwanted peanut gallery, for all of that lovely commentary. Now go back to playing the games you little shits robbed me of all my quarters for, or we’re leaving.” 

Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were here to pick us up?” 

“Oh I’m sorry, did Jonathan magically appear behind me in the last five seconds?” Steve turned around pretending to search the parking lot through the windows. “No? Then I guess we’re still waiting. Unless you, Lucas and Max want to leave first.” 

“You’re such an ass.” Dustin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Why aren’t you waiting in the car anyway?” 

“It’s raining, it’s cold, and I thought I’d come in to say hi to my friend.” Steve replied, so quickly it took Gareth a moment to realize what Steve referred to him as. 

He'd gotten the friend title before Eddie. 

His best friend was going to fucking freak. 

“Are you done drilling me or are you going to let Max kick your ass at DigDug again?” 

“Shit!” Henderson cursed, spinning to intercept the redhead as she bent to put a coin in said arcade machine. “Max, you said you’d let me keep my leaderboard score today! Max!” 

“I know you said you watched kids, but this wasn’t exactly what I was imagining.” Gareth said, slumping against the counter.  

(He'd been thinking of Steve watching much younger kids for one, and two, he was starting to get the idea the babysitter thing was used as an insult. 

Gareth knew a big brother vibe when he saw it.) 

Steve gave him a tired look. “Me neither man. Me neither.”

 Then; “You fucking owe me for that D&D comment, they’re never going to shut up about it now.”

Gareth winced. “Sorry. I was trying to help.” 

Steve blew out a breath. “I know. I appreciate the attempt.” 

Which was better than Steve bitching at him for it, not that he’d really ever done that to Gareth. 

The two of them hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to be playful like that with each other, though they had occasionally jumped in on opposing sides to arguments Eddie caused. Gareth figured they’d get there in time, but even with all the progress Steve made, he still had more off days than on. 

It was a fragile line to walk with him. Especially when there wasn’t a single member of Hellfire who wanted to ruin the progress they made. 

(Even if half of them would never admit to it.) 

“Steve?” A voice interrupted, quiet in a way that contrasted directly with how loud the rest of the brat pack was. 

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if to starve off a headache. 

“Yes, Baby Byers?” He asked after a long, painful pause, turning to look at the saddest looking kid in the bunch. 

“Is there actually a D&D club at the high school?” 

The kid looked at Steve like he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to hear the answer, but was hopeful for the outcome he wanted anyway. 

It was the kind of thing that pulled even on Gareth’s heartstrings, and he was almost immune to anything involving giant, sad eyes after a solid year of working at the arcade. 

(Never mind Eddie’s own puppy dog looks.)

Steve’s voice gentled, in a way Gareth had never quite heard him use before. “There is. You’d love it, it’s called Hellfire. I’m sure it’ll still be there next year when you come in as a freshman.” 

He nudged him with his shoulder playfully, smiling when the younger boy perked up. “If you’re nice, Garebear here might even put in a good word for you.” 

“Garebear?” Max repeated with a burst of laughter, appearing behind Steve like a fucking ghost. “Oh my god.” 

“No.” Gareth said, bolting upright from his slouch as he stared at her in horror. “Do not call me that.” 

“Sure thing, Garebear.” She outright cackled, as Steve sent him a wide-eyed, apologetic face. 

“What did you just call Gary?” The sporty one--Lucas, asked, a wide grin overtaking his face. 

“I swear to God.” Gareth threatened, as Steve took another dramatic look over his shoulder. 

“Hey look Jonathan’s here!” He yelled, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as he started quickly walking backwards. “Come on, dipshits, we're leaving!�� 

“Bye Garebear!” Lucas and Max sang together, following after him. 

“Harrington!” Gareth howled, as Steve mouthed ‘Sorry’ over his shoulder, all but bolting out the door. 

“I like Garebear a lot better than Gary.” Another, random child informed him with a grin as he sauntered past, arcade tickets in hand. 

Steve Harrington, Gareth decided, was a dead man. 

Not even Eddie’s fucking crush on the guy could save him now. 

xXx

“Did you know Harrington has a literal pack of kids he watches?” Gareth asked a few hours later, messing with his drum kit as he set up for band practice. "He even drives them around." 

More than that though--he’d seemed almost normal around them. That was the most Gareth had seen the guy banter or act relaxed since Eddie had dragged him over. 

“He’s mentioned it multiple times.” Grant replied, tuning his bass. “You have ears Gareth, use them.” 

“Gareth? Listen?” Jeff teased as he dragged an amp into the garage. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.” 

"Oh screw you guys.” Gareth growled, winging a drumstick toward his friends for the insult.

Grant, long used to Gareth's tantrums (and Eddie's dramatics)  didn't look up from his bass.

Not even when the drumstick hit the wall with a bang!-- allll the way near the opposite end of the couch, entirely opposite of either him or Jeff. 

"As usual, your aim is dead on." Jeff appraised sarcastically. 

"Like I'd ever actually hit you." Gareth grumbled with a pout. "I was gonna say the kids are older than I expected."

He reached down, blindly fishing for another drumstick from the bucket of them next to his kit. 

He came up empty. 

"Hey Grantman." Gareth asked, tone changing to something mildly embarrassed. "Could I uh, could I get the drumstick back?" 

He got a flat stare back. "No." 

"What did I do to get stuck with such dramatic friends?" Jeff joked as he began moving all the amps he’d pulled in back into their usual places. 

They hadn't had time to unload anything other than the drums after their last show and the regret was real. 

"Eddie’s been standing on tables since seventh grade, you knew what you were getting into." Gareth fired back, making grabby hands for his drumstick. 

"And you never grew out of being that dorky middle schooler who snuck into Hellfire games and screamed we were all going to die every time anyone made a bad play." Jeff shot back. "Yet here I am, once again wondering if I should just permanently confiscate Eddie's snacks, your drumsticks, and now Harrington's fricken spatula." 

"One year. I am one year younger than you and you act like it's an entire century!" Gareth muttered, as Grant relented and leaned over to fetch said drumstick. 

"We all know Eddie chucks food at people, but what'd Steve do with a spatula?"  Grant asked as he tossed it back to Gareth.

He missed and nearly took out a cymbal in the process. 

"He had a snit while we were making chocolate roulade cause it wouldn’t roll right. Flung the spatula around so much it splattered whip cream on his ceiling." Jeff shook his head as he finished hooking an amp up to his guitar. "I had to rescue it from him." 

"His ceiling?" Gareth said in disbelief. "Wait, you were in Harrington’s kitchen?" 

"Yeah?" Jeff looked up to find his friends staring at him. 

Grant blinked. "The fuck?" 

“Can we just play?” Jeff complained, just as embarrassed as Gareth had been.

“No.” Gareth said, retrieved drumstick nearly falling from his hands in shock. “You don’t get to casually drop that you went to Harrington’s house to help him bake and then try to get us to play right after!” 

Jeff, who had done exactly that, blushed, skin darkening as he fiddled with his guitar.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” He said finally with a shrug, as if this was something he did all the time and not the groundbreaking revelation that it was.

“Did you meet his parents?” Grant said, sitting up from the couch. “What did his house look like?”

Jeff finally gave up the pretense of playing his instrument.

“I didn't, and it was kinda sad, actually.” He said, as if he didn’t live for this kind of shit. 

Gareth knew better than anyone how much of a fricken gossip Jeff could be. 

“His house was enormous. I only saw the first floor, and his kitchen is huge.” He set his hands apart at a good distance, showcasing just how large “huge” was, before continuing. 

“But it was weird. It was like a model home. No pictures on the walls, no art, no personality to the place at all.” 

“What are we talking about?” Eddie asked, finally returning to Gareth’s garage from where he’d been gathering up all the wires they’d thrown haphazardly into his van. 

“Jeff went to Harrington’s house.” Grant and Gareth tattled as one. 

“To help bake stuff for this Friday!” Jeff defended, the blush creeping back onto his face. “I was curious about his chocolate roulade recipe and he invited me over!” 

“When was this?” Eddie asked, staring at Jeff like he’d grown a second head. 

Or more likely, Gareth knew, in jealousy. But he wasn’t going to call Eddie out on that just yet. 

“Yesterday. We got to talking about it in the parking lot after school.” Jeff said with an embarrassed shrug. “He said he wasn’t the best at explaining how to do things and that he’d rather show me instead.” 

“Kinky.” Grant deadpanned, making Jeff sputter. 

“You sure you didn’t see his bedroom, Jeff? It’s okay if you fell for the ‘wanna see my music collection’ line. We won’t judge you.” Gareth waggled his eyebrows, ducking with a laugh when Jeff went to whack him. 

“Shut up, we just made the chocolate roulade!” Jeff’s ears were red now, and huh, maybe Eddie wasn’t the only person with a crush.  

“Guys.” Eddie reprimanded, tone warning. 

“Sorry Eds, you know we don’t mean it.” Gareth soothed. Of course, his best friend's anger was less about the gay comments or Steve’s reputation as Hawkin’s man whore than it was about Steve fucking Jeff (and not Eddie) but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be appreciated if he pointed that out either. 

Eddie didn’t respond, eyes already back on Jeff. "Details, Jeffery, give us the details!"  

He dropped onto the couch, flapping his hands at Jeff in his version of a "sit down" gesture. 

Jeff sighed, but repeated what he'd just said for Eddie as he took a seat on the edge of an amp, placing his guitar down gently. 

 "I think Wayne was right. I don't think anyone else lives there but Steve. Not full-time anyway." He finished. 

Which sounded like the best fucking thing ever until Gareth thought about it for more than two seconds. 

Tried to imagine what his life would be like if his parents and siblings were gone. Not for a day, or even a weekend, but always. 

How silent his normally loud house would be. 

Thought instantly that he'd be inviting Eddie, his friends, and hell, l even Wayne, over as often as they could handle. 

"The way he looked when I showed up, and how quiet he got when I left I just…" Jeff fiddled with his guitar’s strap. "I think he's lonely." 

The four of them sat in silence for a long moment as they digested that. 

“Hargrove kicked his ass right? And Byers?” Grant said finally, breaking the silence ad he stared up at the ceiling. 

“Old news.” Eddie replied absently, jiggling his leg.

“You think his parents were around for that?” Grant continued, slowly.

No one answered outside of Eddie's leg loudly jiggling faster. 

 "Did you see the kids hug him or anything?"

"They're like thirteen. I seriously doubt they're pestering Steve for hugs." Gareth answered flatly.  

 "So he got his ass kicked, his parents are gone, he was supposed involved in that whole has leak thing…" Grant trailed off with an air of someone who expected the end of his sentence to be obvious. 

“You’re doing that thing again where you think what you’re saying is obvious and its fucking not.” Eddie grumped. "Just spit it out." 

His friend's head finally tipped back down from the ceiling, to face the rest of them. “Maybe the flinching is because no one ever touches him anymore unless it’s to kick his ass.” 

“Oh.” Eddie blinked, body going rigid. “Oh shit.” 

“That…would make sense. A lot of sense.” Jeff said slowly. 

Grant put on a face that read “Duh” loud and clear. 

“So what do we do about it?" Gareth asked after a moment. 

"Touch him, obviously." Grant replied, like he couldn't believe the drummer was even asking.

Gareth and Eddie shared a look while Eddie rolled his eyes.  

"The guy almost fell down the stairs last time I tried that." Gareth pointed out. 

Never mind any other time Steve got weird over the lightest of touches. Eddie couldn't even clap the guy on the shoulder without getting major side-eye. 

"No."  Eddie cut in, sitting up suddenly. His eyes had gone bright, "We're going to trick him into it." 

"We're going to trick Harrington into being okay with, what? Shoulder pats?"  Gareth echoed, like Eddie might hear himself if his words were repeated back to him. “You realize how stupid that sounds right?" 

"Shut up, listen. It's like getting a stray to trust you. You just gotta be calm and so obvious about it that they get confused and let it happen." Eddie had begun practically vibrating, causing his friends to trade uneasy glances. 

They knew that look. Eddie only got it when he thought up a plan that was going to cause problems. 

"Eddie, that makes zero sense." Jeff told him.

Gareth just shook his head, because only Eddie Munson could compare Hawkins golden boy with a fucking stray animal. 

Even if the guy kinda acted like one sometimes. 

"I just need an opening." Eddie continued, the little hamster wheel spinning in his head so fast the rest of the band could almost hear it. 

If Gareth had been told two months ago he was going to be sitting in his garage, discussing the best way to acclimate Steve Harrington to casual touch, he’d have actually smacked whatever idiot dared spew such nonsense with his drumsticks. 

"I did tell tell the kids today you were making him a D&D character." He said, before his best friend could truly go off on some half cocked plot. 

Eddie lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Gary, I could kiss you."

Gareth made a face. "Please don't."

He clapped hard before springing to his feet. "Huddle up boys, I've got a plan." 

"God help us all." Jeff muttered. 

(He huddled up anyway, any thoughts of playing guitar that night fully forgotten.) 

Bonus: 

"Why don't you just get high and watch a movie with Steve? You're a fucking cling-on when you're high." Gareth complained the next morning, when Eddie swung by to pick him up for school. 

Mostly because the plan Eddie had come up with was ridiculous.

 Eddie took both hands off the wheel, pressing them against his chest in mock offense while he stared at Gareth and not at the street. “That would be taking advantage of him and I, as a gentleman, would never." He gasped, dramatically. 

In his normal voice, he added: "Plus it doesn't count." 

“Eyes on the road!” Gareth yelped, swatting an arm. “And you know I didn’t mean it like that. People relax more when they're high and maybe Steve needs something like that as an excuse to allow it. Hell he doesn’t even need to be high, just you.”

Which Gareth personally thought was a very insightful thing to say, so of course he had to ruin it with; “or whatever.” 

"Do you recall how you kissed Jeff on the cheek when you were high and then spent the entire next month swearing up and down that you weren't attracted to men last summer?" 

"That was different. I was discovering myself." 

Eddie outright cackled. "Discovering yourself? What self help book did you pick that gem out of?"

"I was quoting you, you moron!" Gareth sputtered. 

"If I said anything like that then I was definitely high and it just proves my point. Steve would just be uncomfortable."Eddie stuck his tongue out. "So there." 

"Fine." Gareth sighed. "If we ever get high with Harrington, I'll sit in his lap."

Eddie's eye twitched. "No you will not."

Thrilled to have something to tease the elder metalhead about, a smile graced Gareth's face. "In fact, I'm calling dibs." 

"You can't call dibs on a lap! And besides, you don't even like him like that!" 

"So?" Gareth retorted. "It's a nice lap, looks comfortable. You don't want it, so I'll take it."

Eddie grit his teeth, grasping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. 

"I know what you're doing Gary. This is some bullshit reverse psychology shit and I will not be falling for it." 

"Oh contraire, this is sibling bullshit, Munson. You want it, so I want it." Gareth crossed his arms and looked at Eddie smugly. "And unless you do something about it, I'm getting it." 

"I hate you." 

Gareth grinned, delighted. "I know." 

[steddiejudas]

Hear me out. what if Mrs. Henderson decided to move out of Hawkins so Steve convinces her to let Dustin stay at his house and instead of telling Dustin they’re in a relationship, Eddie just comes downstairs for breakfast in his boxers and Steve’s hoodie one day.

Dustin: Wait wtf is Eddie doing here?

Eddie with a big ass hickey: Breakfast.

Dustin: where the fuck are your pants?

Steve, trying not to laugh:

Dustin:

Eddie:

Dustin: OH MY GOD WHILE I WAS IN THE HOUSE?