Porn is porn whether it’s animated, written, or physical — me a 20 y/o w/ no shame
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read this fic for steve losing his fucking mind
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It’s alright, it’s okay, it’s alright, it’s okay. You’re not a monster, just a human.
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t's marvey fic rec list!
p.s. most of these are probably all bd/sm & dom/sub so...
I'll probably be updating this as I read more fics so stay tuned lol
Biological d/s AU
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(i'm not really into abo but i liked these)
Vacay Fics (aka bed sharing teritory!)
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“Oh shit, what’s wrong?”
Steve watches, horrified, as Eddie reaches up with his free hand to swipe at the moisture gathering beneath his eyes.
“Nothing, man,” Eddie croaks, and Steve doesn’t believe him for a moment.
“Did I hurt you? Is the bandage on wrong? Too tight?” Steve becomes aware as he speaks that he’s all but clutching Eddie’s hand in his own and makes a conscious effort to loosen his grip.
This only seems to make things worse; Eddie makes a noise of protest and grabs more tightly to Steve’s hand and then looks twice as mortified as before, and that’s not at all what Steve wants.
Changing Eddie’s bandages is a goddamn ordeal; there are so many of them, and they seem to be everywhere, and Eddie doesn’t have the good drugs anymore, just Tylenol, and he’s always exhausted and sore by the end of it all. Steve doesn’t want to make him feel worse.
He would start fixing it, if he only knew what he’d done.
“Eddie,” he says softly, “please tell me what’s wrong.”
Eddie shakes his head, swiping under his eyes again. “It’s seriously nothing, it’s stupid. It’s just…” he hesitates, and Steve squeezes his hand encouragingly. “It reminded me of my mom, what you did, with the little – like, the little kiss on the bandage when you finished putting it on. She used to do that.”
“Oh – shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, overstep, or–”
“You didn’t–”
“I thought it would make you laugh or something, not drag out some sad memory, and–”
“Steve,” Eddie cuts in more firmly, “you didn’t. I’m not fuckin’ sad, it just – kinda hit me weird. That’s all.”
Steve purses his lips, staring up at Eddie from the kitchen floor, where he’s been kneeling in order to work at the bandages. He’s not sure if he should get out of Eddie’s space now, maybe give him a minute to himself, because Eddie is still holding onto his hand, and Steve still has another bandage to change out, and then Eddie rolls his eyes at him.
“Stop looking at me like you ran over my dog, man. I swear to god, I’m fine. It was kinda nice, actually, alright?” Eddie huffs. “Like, I forgot about that, until you did it, so it was– it was kinda nice.”
“Oh,” Steve says.
“Yeah. So do you think we could just…” Eddie gestures at his cheek with his free hand, and Steve nods.
“Yeah, lemme– I’ll finish up.”
The bandage on Eddie’s cheek is the last to change out, and Steve tries to make it quick. He has Eddie hold his hair to the side as he works, mostly to give him something to do with his hands – there are a million hair ties still floating around the house from before Robin cut her hair (Steve finds more every time he vacuums, he swears the things multiply in the dark), but Steve’s found that giving Eddie some kind of task keeps him still while Steve deals with disinfectant and gauze.
He's gotten the process down to something simple and efficient, and it feels like he’s done too soon. Eddie takes a sidelong glance at him when he takes his hands away, though he’s obediently holding still until he’s given the all-clear.
“Done?” he asks.
“Almost, yeah,” Steve says. “One last thing.”
Slowly, in case Eddie wants to pull back, Steve leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to the center of the bandage, holding his breath in shivery anticipation of Eddie’s reaction.
“That alright?” Steve asks quietly.
“Uh.” Eddie drops his hair and turns to look at Steve, eyes wide but dry this time. “Yeah. That’s– Actually, no.” Steve’s stomach drops when Eddie shakes his head, but then Eddie goes on, “I think you should do it one more time. Just, like, to make sure it works.”
“Yeah?” A slow grin curls over Steve’s face as his stomach makes its way back up from where it had landed near his ankles. “I think you’re right. Better safe than sorry.”
Steve leans in again, giving the bandage a quick, gentle peck. Then, because he can’t quite help himself, he presses another kiss to Eddie’s chin. And then, because they’re right there, pink and inviting and slightly parted as Eddie watches Steve with rapt attention, Steve presses one last kiss to his lips.
Eddie barely has time to return it, but he laughs when Steve pulls away. “Pretty sure my mouth was never injured, Steve.”
“You sure?” Steve shoots back.
“I mean– Well, you could check,” Eddie offers.
“Yeah, I could,” Steve says, leaning back in for another kiss – one that he thinks should be much more thorough.
All in the name of proper care, of course.
[Prompt: Kissing your partner's wounds]
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God Obi-Wan from @ragnarlothcat's as holy and enchanted 🌊
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Growing up, food is always a bit of a sore spot for Eddie. Of course, Wayne does his best to make sure that Eddie never goes to bed with an empty stomach, but growing boys need lots of fuel. And while there always is food, there often isn’t much food. But it’s fine, Eddie knows Wayne is trying so hard, picking up all the extra shifts he can. Eddie would never hold it against his uncle, he knows how much Wayne already frets. And even though Eddie’s stomach growls every now and then, he learns to ignore it. Learns how not to be hungry.
While other kids experiment what herbs might go best with pasta sauce and how to caramelize sugar without burning it, Eddie tries to find out how to water down soup and stretch stew for days. Figures out how to make rice with beans still taste good on day five. Hunts down coupons and keeps an eye out for discounts so they can have hot dogs on the fourth of july and candy on Halloween. Food is never really pleasure or indulgence. Only something neither he nor Wayne try to worry about. Some days it’s easier than others.
It’s not really until after the upside down, after he has been discharged from the hospital and off the murder accusations, not until Steve that food becomes more than just another annoyingly human need. Thanks to the government hush money and Eddie picking up a mechanic jobat the local garage they don’t need to worry about food anymore.
But it’s still just means to an end, there is no luxuriating in it, no big cravings, Eddie still cuts out coupons. Steve offers them to host Hellfire at his house and Eddie offers to buy snacks. It’s the least he can do if Steve is letting them into his mansion. But Steve declines, says he’ll take care of it. And he does.
When Eddie and the rest of Hellfire show up the dining room table (Steve has a dining room Jesus H. Christ) is filled with all kinds of snacks. It’s everyone’s favorite kinds of snack. And not the store brand knock off snacks, no, it’s the real fancy shit. Or well as fancy as pringles and mountain dew can be. But it doesn’t stop there.
Once the game is over, the kids help clean up, but none of them rush to get their shoes back on or slip into their jackets. Instead, they pile into the kitchen, dragging Eddie and the older kids of Hellfire with them where Steve is already handing them steaming plates of lasagna.
“You running a soup kitchen, Harrington?” Eddie can’t help but tease as a plate is pressed into his hands.
There is a blush creeping over Steve’s face and Eddie instantly regrets his comment. It’s just the snacks, the dinner, it kinda makes him feel inadequate, like he was bad at hosting Hellfire because he never brought snacks let alone dinner.
It takes Eddie a while to understand that Steve doesn’t do it to show off, but simply because he enjoys cooking. He always provides snacks when they are at his house, be it Hellfire, movie night, or pool parties. There is always home cooked food and often even homemade dessert too. The day he bakes a bunch of lemon meringue cookies is a horrible day because those cookies are to die or fall madly in love for and Eddie can feel his stomach swoop. He ignores it like he has ignored all his cravings over the years. And it works for a while.
Until one golden autumn afternoon when Eddie is early and the kids are still at school. Eddie offers to drive around the block a couple of times, but Steve just laughs, tells Eddie not to be stupid. He leads Eddie into the kitchen and motions for him to sit on the counter. Talks about how he likes company while cooking. The radio in the corner of the kitchen blares pop music loudly and Steve turns it down, no need for it to longer fill the oppressive silence. Eddie hops on the counter, dangles his legs and watches Steve cook. It’s so obviousthat he loves doing it. The way he hums quietly, sautees onions and garlic, stirs in herbs and spices, tastes his sauce, frowns and adds more salt. It’s horribly endearing and cute and dangerous and Eddie can’t tell if his stomach is growling or filled with butterflies.
“Have you always loved cooking?” he asks, desperate to keep his thoughts from spiraling. Steve laughs again in response and the sound kicks up another storm in Eddie’s stomach.
“God no,” Steve says and stirs his sauce. “I couldn’t cook for the longest time. Lived off tv dinners and take out for some years.”
The soft smile of his lips faints slightly. Eddie knows what a bitter taste loneliness can leave in your mouth. Knows that while Steve never had to worry about food, he also never had someone to share it with.
“Found some cookbooks inthe attic a few years back,” Steve continues. “Tired out some recipes, asked Claudia and Mrs. Wheeler for advice when I couldn’t get something right and well here we are.”
“Here we are,” Eddie echoes, unable to tear his eyes away from Steve. He looks gorgeous in the golden afternoon light, a dorky apron that says Kiss the cook on it and god how Eddie would like to oblige that order. Steve catches him staring, but doesn’t call him out on it. The corner of his mouth twitches up as he dips a wooden spoon into the sauce, holds a hand under it and turns to Eddie.
“Taste this for me?” he asks, stepping closer, until he is bracketed by Eddie’s thighs. Eddie can just swallow and nod, not sure how to cope with Steve being this close. Steve lifts the spoon until wood touches Eddie’s lips. He parts them hesitantly, lets Steve push the spoon into his mouth, licks the sauce off it. All while looking in the gold honey and caramel of Steve’s eyes. Eddie wonders if Steve's lips would taste of spun sugar too.
“It’s good,” he rasps once Steve has lowered the spoon.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Steve smiles and god if smiles had a taste, Steve’s would be Eddie’s favorite flavor. The kind of flavor that would teach Eddie indulgence. The same way Steve indulges in his cooking, lets all the time and care he puts in his food speak for how much he loves the people he prepares food for. Because for Steve food is more than just sustenance. It's love.
Steve goes back to the stove, stirs some more and begins humming again. Eddie continues to watch him. And for the first time in years, Eddie allows himself to be hungry.
.
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Eddie does this... thing. Steve isn't sure if there's a name for it. Or if it's just a thing. Robin always jokes that Eddie's autism is showing. And he just snorts at her and shakes his head, but he keeps doing it, his cheeks tinted pink.
He counts things.
They aren't always things everyone can see. About half the time Eddie is just counting in his head. But he mumbles the numbers outloud, barely audible. But Steve hears it. Steve can't hear much, most of the time, but he somehow always manages to hear Eddie counting. Or at least notices his lips moving, numbers rolling off them genlty.
It calms him down. Steve noticed that fast. Eddie would count his breathing during panic attacks and then when he helped Steve or Robin through their panic attacks, and somewhere along the line, Steve just started, counting along with him.
Not outloud. And Eddie hadn't noticed him nodding along to the counting, not yet at least. But it never failed. Eddie would start counting and Steve's brain would follow along happily.
They're sitting on Eddie's couch. It's the middle of summer. The air outside is hot and sticky. The air in the trailer isn't much better. But Steve had brought over his personal air conditioner that had been sitting in the garage not being used for years. Eddie had protested but Steve refused to take it back.
The living room was cooler than it had been the last few days. The sun had just gone down. Eddie's thigh was pressed against his, like it normally was these days, heat or not. Eddie would sit himself next to Steve, their sides smooshed together. Steve hadn't moved away, not once, despite the heat.
Eddie was wearing a cut off shirt, Steve was in jean shorts and a lightweight yellow t-shirt. Some movie Steve had never seen was on the tv, but all Steve could focus on was the way Eddie was pressed against him. The warmth of his skin seeping into his ribs.
And then Eddie starts counting.
Steve smiles to himself. Following along. Glancing at Eddie carefully when his counting pauses, like he was searching for the next thing he was counting. Steve had never been brave enough to ask about it. Was just happy Eddie felt safe enough around him to let him hear it at all.
And then Eddie's fingers hit Steve's arm and he can't breathe. Eddie's finger tips walk up his arms, pressing genlty at certain points as they go. Steve's heart flutters when Eddie's fingers press up under his shirt, curl in the material and shove it up as Eddie mumbles,
"Can I just-" between numbers. He smiles when he gets Steve's sleeve up over his shoulder, his fingers poking at Steve's skin as he counts. And it clicks.
He's counting Steve's freckles.
His fingers dancing over his skin as he counts, whispering numbers as he turns on his couch cushion, his knee pressing hard into Steve's thigh. Steve doesn't care. Steve doesn't feel it.
All Steve can feel is Eddie's breath ghosting over his warm skin as he counts. His chilly fingertips, and warm breath, causing goosebumps to spead, making Steve shiver.
He swallows, hard, as Eddie's fingers poke the moles on his neck. Steve smiles when Eddie whispers to himself.
"Lil vampire bite." He says, moving one finger across them genlty. Steve clenches his fists, presses them into his thighs, tries to stay still. To let Eddie stay in this world he's in. Because he's lost right now. Steve knows he is. He's a touchy feely guy, but this, this is different.
He's lost in his counting. Lost in Steve. It's fucking intoxicating. Steve could live in this bubble forever, all of Eddie's attention on him like he's the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
Steve reminds himself to breathe at the wrong moment. Eddie's fingers move over his cheek, he's almost reached thirty, and Steve honestly didn't know he had that many freckles and moles. But he learns new things about himself from Eddie everyday. He sucks in air as Eddie's fingers press into his cheek and Eddie startles.
His hand jerks back, his eyes flutter and then lock onto Steve's. Because he'd been watching Eddie. Watching Eddie look at him. And Eddie swallows hard, his fist clenching in the air before he pulls it to his chest. Holds it there with his other hand, his cheeks now a deep pink, Steve can see it crawling up to his ears.
"Shit. Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. Fuck." He breathes, looks into his lap. And Steve smiles. Can't help it. He reaches out, his fingers curling around Eddie's wrist.
Eddie's eyes snap to him, wide, and nervous, as he watches Steve move his hand back to his face. He presses Eddie's palm to his cheek, nuzzles into the touch.
"You can keep going. You were at... twenty seven, I think." Steve whispers, not wanting to break the quiet bubble they've settled into. Eddie blinks at him. Steve feels his fingers twitch against his face.
"Twenty....seven?" Eddie says it like a question. Unsure. Confused.
"You were counting again." Steve says, leans further into Eddie's hand. He hears Eddie's breath shutter.
"I was touching you." Eddie says, his brows furrowing, like he's still confused.
"I know. I liked it." Steve assures, nodding his head, letting Eddie feel it against his hand.
"Yeah?" He breathes.
"Yeah. Of course." Steve turns a little then, facing him more.
"I like when you count too." Steve admits. Finally. Eddie's nose scrunches, he snorts, and Steve lets him have his hand back. He lets his fall to Steve's shoulder, his fingers almost instantly tangling in the hair at the back of Steve's neck. They find their way there most nights Steve is here, his hand on the back of the couch always finding Steve somehow.
"No you don't. No one does. It annoys people. It's weird." Eddie shakes his head, but he's smiling, and blushing, and Steve wants to kiss his bright red cheeks, wants to feel their warmth against his lips.
"It's addicting." Steve counters. Eddie's eyes widen.
"Is it?" He sounds shocked. Steve nods.
"Yeah. I do it all the time now. Even when you aren't doing it. Or aren't even around. I just... count things. You were right. It's calming." Steve says, his hands finding Eddie's, moving his fingers across Eddie's rings.
"You said it was addicting." Eddie mumbled.
"What?"
"You said it was addicting. The counting." Eddie says, finally looking up from his lap. His eyes soft when they find Steve's.
"Oh. Guess I did yeah. Is that... is that bad?" Steve asks, turning one of Eddie's rings around his finger. Eddie shakes his head, once, the red tint crawling down his neck now. The hand Steve's not fiddling with finds its way to the back of Eddie's neck, he rubs the skin there and blinks a few times before looking into his lap again.
"No. Just... no one's ever called anything about me addicting before. Annoying? Yes. Addicting? Not so much. But you did. And you said it like-" Eddie's teeth dig into his bottom lip.
"Like what?" Steve nudges his knee into Eddie, fighting not to smile.
"Like it was a good thing. I guess?" Eddie shrugs. Steve reaches up then, lets go of Eddie's hand and cups his cheek instead, lifting his head so Eddie can see him.
"It is a good thing. The best thing. I could listen to you count all day." Steve smiles then, mirroring Eddie as he laughs a little.
"Oh yeah? You might regret that. I've actually been trying to hold back on it. I know I do it a lot." Eddie shakes his head, frowns a little. Steve moves, presses closer, shakes his head.
"Don't. Don't hold back. Count whatever you want. Whenever you want." He breathes between them.
"Okay." Eddie says, hesitant, he sounds nervous. Steve pulls back a bit, brows furrowed, and then Eddie darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's cheek.
"One." He says when he's settled back on his cushion. His cheeks even more red than before. Steve snorts, opens his mouth to say something but Eddie moves again. His lips hit next to Steve's eyebrow.
"Two."
He presses his lips close to Steve's ear.
"Three." Steve laughs. Eddie kissed his neck twice.
"Four. Five." He breathes, as Steve catches him, doesn't let him settle back down this time. Keeps him close. One hand on the back of Eddie's neck, one hand trailing his fingertips over Eddie's nose, and his cheeks.
"You've got them too ya know? Not like mine. But ... little ones. All over." Steve breathes, his fingers moving slowly over Eddie face until they linger on his lips. Just for a moment, before he cupped Eddie's cheek.
"You wanna count 'em?" Eddie asks, he sounds breathless, and Steve had barely touched him. They were both on their knees now. Their chests nearly pressed together.
"Maybe later. Got something better in mind right now." Steve breathes, eyes dropping to Eddie's mouth. He watches Eddie gulp and smiles.
"Oh yeah? L-like what?" Eddie stammers. His hands grabbing at Steve's waist to keep himself steady.
"Probably better if I just show you." Steve sighs, presses his forehead to Eddie's.
"Okay. Yeah. I'm- I'm definitely a learn by example kinda guy. So that's- that works for me." Eddie rambles, his mouth moving a mile a minute. Steve moves his nose along Eddie's and nods.
"Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. I can do that." Steve agrees, not sure what he's really agreeing too, he just knows he wants to kiss this boy. His friend. Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad. Has for awhile now. He feels Eddie's hands, one of them moving to his shoulder where his sleeve is still pulled up, Eddie's palm is warm on his arm.
Eddie huffs a nervous laugh and that's all it takes.
Steve kisses him. Gently. Eddie's lips fumble against his for a moment. His inexperience making Steve's stomach flutter. His hands grab at Eddie, pull him closer. Eddie whines against his lips and Steve pulls back, doesn't want to overwhelm him too much.
Eddie drops his head to Steve's shoulder with a breathy laugh. Steve pets at his hair, curls his fingers into it like he's wanted to for ages and pulls genlty, so he can look at Eddie's face.
"You okay?" He asks. Eddie nods, smiles.
"Six." He says, his cheeks dimpling. Steve smiles back, shakes his head. Presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie's nose.
"Seven." Eddie says, no hesitation. Steve swears he honest to god giggles, but would never admit it to anyone.
Eddie's eyes tint with a mix of mischief and seriousness that's all his own as his fingers curl around the hem of Steve shirt.
"Okay seriously though take this off, I wasn't done counting." His voice is completely serious. And Steve, feeling brave, decides to match it, and tugs his shirt up over his head, careful not to hit Eddie in the face. Eddie barks a manic sounding laugh as Steve falls back, pulling Eddie down too, so that he's stradling him.
"Go on then. Count away." Steve shoves his hands under his head, smiles up at Eddie as he looks wide eyed down at Steve. He's bright red, but then his eyes focus, and his hands move to gently touch the skin covering Steve's ribs. His finger tips press down, tickling a bit, as he whispers,
"Twenty eight." His eyes jump to Steve's face, he gives him an encouraging nod, and that's all Eddie needs apparently. Because he starts counting in earnest, his hands moving over Steve's freckles quickly. Numbers falling past his lips, his counting calming Steve the way almost nothing else does.
He gets to fifty and stops. Leans down and presses a kiss to Steve's shoulder.
"Eight." He whispers, and then keeps going. He kisses and counts his way across Steve's skin until he's laying on top of Steve, his hand in his hair. Pressing gentle kisses into Steve's neck as he smiles into Eddie's shoulder, the little voice in his head counting along, in sync with Eddie in a way he'd never expected to be, feeling content as Eddie's numbers become more garbled. Until they fade completely as Eddie drifts off, his breath heavy on Steve's neck.
Steve smiles, moves them a bit so they're settled on the couch a bit better. Eddie doesn't wake. Steve watches him sleep. Soothes his fingers over the crease in Eddie's eyebrows until it smooths out and he melts further into the couch. He smiles at him, closes his eyes as Eddie's arm squeezes around him, pulling him closer. Steve sighs, sinks deeper into the couch as he feels sleep dragging him under. But not before he mumbles, sleepy and soft,
"One." Making sure he marks this. The first time they fall asleep tangled together, the smile on his lips fading as he drifts off to sleep, dreaming of all the never ending numbers in their future.
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You Are Mine part 4 (NSFW)
There’s a weird energy on set the last day of shooting. Excitement for reaching the end for sure but also a kind of melancholy that soon it’s all going to be over.
Eddie himself is so on edge he feels like he’s going to start levitating any minute now.
The first thing they shoot is a close-up of the Corrored boys plus Robin looking surprised as they pull a curtain on the bus tour that’s supposed to be revealing Eddie and Steve making out.
They will shoot the scene again actually featuring them there, later. But Argyle wanted to do a couple of different takes on it. And they do lots of them since they can’t stop laughing and putting on ridiculous overemphatic expressions.
♫
And then, finally, it’s time to get the money shot. Argyle asks that only essentials stay on set to give Steve and Eddie some sense of privacy. And the boys leave grumping loudly all the way out of the set while Robin is dragged away by Jeff, walking backward and doing kissy faces at both of them.
Laughing Eddie turns to look at Steve, and he had been so excited with the thought of touching him, of feeling him close, that he hadn’t noticed until now, Steve looks really nervous.
Argyle is explaining to him how the scene goes, a comforting hand on his shoulder as he points at the set,
“You don’t have to lie down on the bunkbed, just stand near the wall. We can do you against it or Eddie, he’s comfortable with both so you can choose whichever floats your boat,” Argyle guides him, not noticing Steve getting progressively redder by the second,
“You just have to kiss him like your life depends on it, ok?” To his credit, Steve is nodding along to Argyle’s words and he has the smallest frown like he’s concentrating on the instructions, “Like you can’t get your hands off each other, you know.”
Once they are in place, with Eddie against the wall and Steve crowding him, he puts one hand on the wall next to Eddie’s head and the other on his shoulder. Eddie places his hands on Steve’s waist making him jump a little when his fingers dip under Steve’s shirt.
And Eddie can’t help but chuckle at the awkwardness of it all, this is not what he was imagining at all.
And he laughs when he’s nervous, sue him.
Still, he smiles at Steve reassuringly, trying to make him relax, “Nervous?”
Steve visibly swallows and shakes his head, “I’m fine,” he says, totally not fine.
He’s making Eddie nervous now. He feels he misinterpreted everything that happened the last few days with how reluctant Steve seems at the thought of kissing him, and he wants to ask for a time out and talk to him about it, but before he can, Argyle calls for action and next thing he knows is Steve is kissing him.
And it’s a good kiss, don’t get him wrong, Steve’s lips are just as soft and wonderful as they look and he’s an excellent kisser, but it’s soft and hesitant and not at all what they were supposed to be doing. Steve is actually leaning in to kiss him, their lips being the only point of contact like this is a middle school dance and they need to leave room for Jesus.
Argyle lets it go on for a while before saying ‘cut’, no need for yelling in such a tight set.
Steve immediately steps always from Eddie, “Sorry” he says.
“Stevie, mind putting a little more oomph into that?” Argyle asks him softly like he’s trying not to spook him.
“Yeah, I know, sorry,” he says again, nodding and looking at the floor.
And Eddie is so fucking confused right now, is he into him or not? Maybe he’s nervous because he doesn’t like an audience. He really thought they had something going on, what happened?
Argyle calls for action again and this time Eddie is the one who initiates the kiss. He goes all in on it, coaxing Steve to part his lips with his tongue and then Steve complies and then, oh then it’s a real kiss.
Steve finally gets into it and if he thought Steve was a good kisser before he was a fool, a clown, a jester because he had no idea what was in line for him.
It’s fucking hot and passionate and everything he had imagined and he’s so into it he can’t help the sound that comes out of his mouth, and suddenly he’s standing alone, mouthing at nothing, the cold air of the set hitting him hard where he was just so warm against Steve. He opens his eyes confused and Steve is against the other wall, as far away as he can manage in the small space.
“Cut!, Steve?” Argyle asks him worried.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry, sorry” Steve blabbers scrubbing a hand through his hair.
“Shit, should I have asked for an intimacy coordinator? Am I gonna get sued?” Argyle thinks out loud and Steve’s eyes open widely,
“What? Argy, of course not, I’m sorry! I-” but he doesn’t say anything else and just hugs himself and shrugs.
“Hey, Argyle give us a minute?” Eddie asks looking at Steve. He needs to know what’s going on inside that pretty head of his.
Argyle sighs but smiles reassuringly at Steve, he’s seriously done a fantastic job so far, and Argyle probably doesn’t want him to feel bad for one little hiccup.
“Sure dude, let’s take an early lunch break, yeah?” he says to the few people left in the studio, “Be back in an hour”
Once everyone is gone Eddie turns back to Steve, ducking his head to catch Steve’s eye.
“What’s wrong?” he inquires shily, debating whether or not he should bring up how confused he feels.
Steve blushes and mumbles, “I’m sorry,”
“You keep saying that but I don’t know what you are sorry for” He answers with a kind smile even as cold runs through his spine at the thought that Steve might be apologizing for leading him on.
“I’m not a professional!” Steve states suddenly looking around the studio, “I don’t know how- how am I supposed to not get worked up while making out with the loveliest, hottest guy I’ve ever met-”
‘Oh’
The blushing, the stiffness, the distance, they all take a new meaning with that. And Eddie, in a completely obvious way looks at Steve, his eye landing on his crotch, where his wardrobe is doing a very poor job at hiding just exactly how worked up he is.
Eddie is delighted by this, so much so that he laughs and Steve frowns at him, and slaps his arm, “Don’t laugh at me! Asshole” he whines, which makes Eddie laugh even harder.
And he grabs Steve by the waist and pulls him closer to him, purposely making their crotches touch, letting him feel how into him Eddie is too.
Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he bites his lip at the contact,
“Oh,” Steve articulates eloquently.
“Yes, oh,”
And then Eddie kisses him again, kisses him like he wanted to from the moment he first saw him. Like he wants to eat him.
And Steve ups his game even more, positively driving him insane.
“Changing room?” Eddie offers dropping kisses from his lips to his jaw and neck.
“Uh?” Steve says and groans loudly when Eddie bites him.
“Little more private” Eddie chuckles licking Steve’s pulse point.
“Yes, fu- fuck yes,” Steve says and grabs Eddie’s wrist, dragging him with him as he practically runs there.
As soon as they are inside the changing room, Steve pushes Eddie against the door and kisses him so hard he bumps the back of his head against it, and he bolts the door shut behind him.
Steve chuckles and cradles the back of his head, “Sorry” he murmurs against his lips, Eddie bites his bottom lip and tells him to stop apologizing.
They make out fervently, can’t seems to get their hands off each other, not even to move farther into the room, and when Eddie pushes his hips into Steve’s looking from some friction Steve growls and picks Eddie up by the back of his legs, using the door as support. Eddie immediately hooks both his legs around Steve’s waist and fuck yeah that hits the spot.
Frank was right, Steve can pick him up with no effort, and it’s really fucking hot.
The angle and the closeness are phenomenal, Steve is essentially humping him and it feels so fucking good. But it would feel a heck of a lot better if he could make Steve take his shirt off.
He lifts it up over his torso mapping the exposed skin but reaches a dead end when he hits Steve’s armpits. He’s going to have to drop Eddie to lift his arms and Eddie is conflicted between a shirtless Steve and being devoured against a door. Decisions, decisions…
In the end, he chooses nudity.
He unhooks his legs from Steve and stands, pushing the shirt up. Steve gets the message and lifts his arms letting Eddie take it off.
He shakes his hair out of his eyes and they stare at each other for a bit, trying to catch their breaths. And Eddie looks at him, and Jesus was the payoff worth it, Steve is fucking beautiful, with toned hard muscles and chest hair and moles, so many, many moles. He dives into Steve’s neck and touches his chest, pushing his hand through the hair on his pecs, it’s absolutely lovely.
Steve starts slowly unbuttoning Eddie’s belt and jeans, “Eddie I want-” he starts but Eddie interrupts him,
“Yes, yes to whatever you want”
Steve chuckles and drops to his knees in front of him and Eddie’s knees threaten to give up on him because holy shit.
He pulls Eddie’s boxers down mindful of the elastic and Eddie is thankful for that because his dick is so hard that if Steve is not careful he could lose an eye with it.
And he absolutely doesn’t laugh at his silly thoughts because right then Steve grabs the shaft of his dick and looks up at him,
“I want to see you again after the shoot is over, I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” He says right before he takes Eddie in his mouth.
Eddie moans and slaps his hands on the door loudly, he nods furiously even though Steve can’t see him do it, he’s too busy sucking obscenely, moaning when Eddie’s dick hits the back of his throat, he pulls back and forth a couple of times before pulling off completely and licking the head, looking at Eddie while he slowly jerks him off, “Can I take you out on a date? Please?”
“Yes! Fuck yes, of course.”
Steve smiles sweetly at him and goes back to trying to suck his brains out. A date? He wants to ask Steve to move in with him, marry him, never be away from him again, please.
Are you mine, please be mine, you are mine.
Shit.
He touches anywhere he can reach with his hands, following with his fingers the lines and angles of Steve’s face, his jaw, his nose, his eyelids, how his cheeks hollow as he sucks, his eyebrows, and the little frown between them with worshiping soft touches and then cradles his hands through Steve’s hair and pulls.
Steve moans and Eddie feels it all over his own body.
It’s over pretty quickly after that, Eddie comes so hard he doubles over Steve and ends up resting his forehead on Steve’s head.
His knees do give up then and he slides down the door legs sprawled open on either side of Steve’s and he grabs him by the cheeks and kisses him deeply.
Then, he moves his hands to Steve’s waist and slides him closer to him, palms his clothed erection.
Steve never stops kissing him, moaning and groaning and panting into his mouth as Eddie lowers his pants just enough to take his dick out and jerks him off fast and dirty.
Still kneeling, Steve holds himself steady by placing his hands on Eddie’s shoulders and then slowly moving them to circle around him and burying his face on Eddie’s neck, nipping at it between intakes of air. He’s hugging him close and moving his hips in sharp little trusts into Eddie’s hand and it’s gotta be the prettiest thing Eddie has ever experienced.
Worked up as he was after giving Eddie the best blowjob of his life, Steve comes pretty fast, and Eddie tries to catch most of it on his palm, bringing it to his mouth and tasting him, making sure to keep eye contact as he does so.
Steve groans and lets himself fall to the floor theatrically, “Fuck! You are so hot.”
It makes Eddie laugh, “Right back at ya,” he tells him and he barely has time to catch his breath before Steve sits right back up,
“Shit! What time is it? We need to get back, did I stain my pants?!” He says frantically looking at himself and checking his crotch.
Eddie just keeps laughing and watches him walk around the room, looking for his shirt and trying futilely to fix his hair in the mirror.
“Hey, give me your phone,” He tells Steve making grabby hands at him.
Steve gives him a big smile and throws his phone at him, Eddie- doesn’t catch it but it falls in his lap so it’s all good.
He quickly makes a new contact and names it “Eddie 🦇” and gives himself a lost call, saving the contact as “Steve 💘”.
He fixes himself as best he can, thankfully they didn’t ruin their clothes and stands up waiting for Steve.
Steve turns around and walks up to him, looking nervous before opening the door, “How do I look?” he asks.
And Eddie knows he’s asking in a ‘Can you tell what we were up to just now’ kind of way and not in a ‘Do I look pretty’ kind of way but he still responds, “Gorgeous,” very unhelpfully.
And Steve, precious as he is, blushes deeply as if he wasn’t just deep-throating the life out of Eddie minutes ago.
When they get back to the set, Argyle is already there, and he takes one look at them and shakes his head,
“Well, at least I don’t have to ask makeup to make you two look like you just fucked,”
Steve pales and starts stammering but Eddie cackles and shakes Argyle’s shoulder, who is trying and failing to keep a straight face and not laugh too.
“It’s ok, Steve” Eddie assures him and Argyle does chuckle then, nods and winks at him for good measure.
This time then they get in their places, Steve is relaxed and pliant and Eddie is, Eddie is just thrilled.
When Argyle says ‘action!’, Steve bumps their foreheads together and rubs his nose against his before diving in and kissing him intensely. Eddie swears he hears Argyle saying ‘Aww’ at some point.
They kiss for a while, smiling through it and nipping at each other’s lips, exploring each other’s bodies with their hands, and then they hear Argyle yell,
“Cut! Eddie for fuck’s sake!” By the looks of it, it’s not the first time he’s said it, but he’s laughing and shaking his head, so it’s not a big deal.
Steve apologizes and Eddie bites his nose, “Stop apologizing”
Steve shakes his head and looks at him bewildered and Eddie laughs at his expression and kisses his nose making Steve laugh too.
“What’s so funny?” Robin asks as she walks in, the rest of the team just coming back to film the last scene.
Which is basically the same thing they did just now except they have to get interrupted by Gareth opening a curtain.
Argyle goes over the scene once more with everyone before starting and then Steve and Eddie are kissing again but when Gareth opens the curtain, Robin screams so loud, everyone’s surprised expression is one hundred percent real.
“Jesus, Robin!” Steve scolds her, burying his face in Eddie’s chest.
“Sorry! Sorry, Jesus! I knew it was coming but it was still so jarring to see” She says with a hand on her chest, “It was like a jump scare! What are you doing to my boy?!”
Eddie and the boys crack up and Steve blushes and grumbles, “Stop it dingus”
“I… loved that take actually, I think it’s the best we’ll get,” Argyle says, “But let’s do it one more time just in case, and then we’ll call it.”
Everyone cheers and gets in position and Steve and Eddie look at each other, something achingly similar to love in their eyes as they eagerly wait for Argyle to call action so they can kiss again.
That’s a wrap!
part 1: ♫
part 2: ♫
part 3: ♫
part 4: is this
☕ cafecito?
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If you asked most people who know Eddie Munson, they’d tell you that he's a loud, theatrical man. They might tell you that he's always bouncing around, full of chaotic energy and wild ideas, eager to share what's on his mind with anyone who will listen.
And for the most part, they would be right.
But Steve Harrington knows that there's more to it than that.
Steve knows that Eddie is loud, most of the time, except for when he feels most comfortable.
It's a realization that comes to Steve slowly in the weeks following their final battle against Vecna and the Upside Down, during the time they spend sharing a hospital room while they recover from their bat bites.
Steve is there to witness Eddie's cacophonous reunion with the kids - rife with hollering and boisterous laughter and some very stern (if relieved) scolding from Erica Sinclair. But he's also there to see the way Eddie motions Dustin over once everyone settles down and begins to trickle out of the room. Steve watches as Eddie pulls Dustin into his arms and mutters something Steve can't hear into the kid's ear - something that makes Dustin smile with teary eyes.
It's the first time Steve has seen such a soft display of emotion from Eddie Munson, and he finds it strangely fascinating.
Then, it's the same with Wayne a few days later, when he's finally allowed to visit Eddie in the hospital. Steve expects something a bit dramatic from Hawkins' most notorious Dungeon Master, to be honest, but it's not dramatic at all. The reunion between the Munson men is soft and subdued, nothing but quiet sentiments Steve can't quite make out. Eddie is still as full of energy as ever, but with Wayne around, he loses that frantic edge. And so Steve eventually realizes...
The more comfortable Eddie is, the less jagged his edges get. Loud, raucous laughter becomes soft chuckles. Booming declarations give way to quiet promises. Eddie Munson is softer when he feels safest, and Steve quickly decides that while he likes any and all versions of Eddie, he's particularly fond of this one - the one who's shed his emotional armor in favor of comfort, and perhaps a little vulnerability.
He wants to see more of this Eddie - the one who seems closest to Eddie's truest self.
And overtime, Steve gets his wish.
It starts with quiet, late-night conversations filling the space between their beds in the hospital, when they finally begin to dismantle every misguided preconceived notion they've ever had about each other in order to forge a friendship from the ground up.
Once they're released back into the real world, it continues. There are soft, amused comments murmured into Steve's ear during movie nights, and cheeky observations about the kids they practically share custody of on days at the arcade. There are relaxed conversations over a joint passed back and forth on nights when neither of them can sleep at three in the morning.
The closer they get, the softer Eddie becomes, and it only becomes more obvious when they finally stop dancing around each other and start dating.
Eddie's voice is careful and kind when he asks, "Can I kiss you?" for the first time.
He's practically whispering a week later when they both admit to wanting more than just a casual fling with each other.
When Steve makes him come for the first time, Eddie is all soft gasps and quiet whimpers... breathlessly chanting Steve's name like a prayer. And when Eddie returns the favor later that night, it's with the sweetest, filthiest things whispered into Steve's ear, working him into a frenzy until it takes him over the edge.
And four months into their relationship, one of their most important milestones is said so quietly, Steve almost misses it entirely.
They're laying in bed together, chatting away just like they do almost every night. Steve is basking in the feeling of Eddie's arms around him...of Eddie's bare chest against his back as they trade warmth back and forth. He always loves cuddling with Eddie, but he thinks these nights are his favorites. The ones when he gets to be the little spoon, tucked safely into the arms of the boy he thinks of first every morning and last every night.
Eddie tells him about the way Mike wouldn't stop bitching about his sunburn during the D&D campaign Eddie ran with the boys earlier today, and Steve can't help but roll his eyes.
"God, I told him to use sunscreen yesterday!" Steve insists. Behind him, Eddie snorts. "I did! I told all of them to use it, and most of them listened to me, but did Michael Wheeler? Of course not, because that little shit is hellbent on giving me grays before I turn thirty!"
There's another snort from Eddie - this one louder than the first - and Steve playfully smacks his arm where it's wrapped around Steve's abdomen. Eddie just catches his hand and traces circles across the back of it with his thumb.
"This isn't some laughing matter, Munson!" Steve hisses. "We're talking about my hair, here!"
"Oh, woe be upon he who dares threaten the integrity of your glorious mane, my liege," Eddie drawls dramatically. He nuzzles into the aforementioned mane and presses a soft kiss to the spot just behind Steve's ear.
"Exactly, see? You get it," Steve scoffs, choosing to ignore the sarcasm in his boyfriend's voice.
Eddie buries his face in the crook of Steve's neck and makes a vague humming sound.
"Seriously, though, next time, I'm putting sunscreen in a spray bottle and ambushing him with it, or some shit. I’ll be damned if he survived the apocalypse just so his pasty ass could be taken out by the sun," Steve continues to vent.
Eddie just laughs softly. "You're ridiculous, sweetheart," he murmurs. Steve feels him brush his lips against Steve's pulse point and has to suppress a shiver.
"Yes, and?" Steve huffs, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.
"You're ridiculous," Eddie repeats. Then, his voice goes impossibly soft - barely a whisper, and a bit hesitant - but Steve feels the words ghost over the shell of his ear. "And I love you."
Steve's breath hitches just as Eddie seems to realize the gravity of what he's let slip. Eddie's thumb, which has been rubbing gentle circles into the back of Steve's hand ever since he grabbed it a minute, suddenly pauses. For a moment, neither of them move.
It's Steve who unfreezes first, slowly rolling over until he's facing Eddie, still wrapped in his boyfriend's arms. He takes in Eddie's wide eyes and vaguely anxious expression before reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of Eddie's face.
Steve's voice is raspy when he finally manages to speak.
"You love me?" he asks hesitantly, hating the half of himself that's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he misheard. Maybe Eddie said something else. Or worse, maybe Eddie changed his mind immediately after saying it and is now regretting saying it in the first place. It wouldn't be the first time someone changed their mind about loving Steve, after all.
Eddie doesn't correct him, though, or take it back. Instead, he nods hesitantly, as though he's afraid Steve will hate him for it, and bites his lip.
"I- yeah," he says, still whispering. He looks terrified, and it makes Steve's heart ache. "Is that...okay?"
Steve wants to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Mostly, he wants to tell Eddie that it's more than okay - that he loves him, too, and has for a while now.
"Say it again," Steve begs, instead.
Eddie blinks, his gaze transforming into something so devastatingly tender that Steve doubts he'll ever recover.
"Stevie..." Eddie murmurs, bringing their foreheads to rest against each other. His lips curl into a smile. Steve smiles back. "I love you."
Steve is only slightly embarrassed by the way his heart is rabbiting against his ribs, surely loud enough for his boyfriend to hear.. "Really?"
Eddie smiles and lets their noses brush. "Yeah, baby. I really do."
"Oh," Steve breathes. His disbelief finally gives way to wonder as he allows his hand to move on its own accord - fingertips brushing against the soft skin of Eddie's cheek. Reverently, he traces the shape of Eddie's nose, of his eyebrows, of the little scar on Eddie's temple that's only just begun to fade.
Eddie presses a barely-there kiss to the pads of Steve's fingers when they finally drag across his lips. The action leaves Steve feeling so fond it aches.
"I love you, too," Steve whispers, because it's the truth. He's not sure exactly when he started to fall in love with Eddie Munson, but he does know that he's never stopped. He thinks he'll probably keep falling in love with Eddie until the day he dies.
It's a disgustingly sweet sentiment, and Steve can't bring himself to care.
"Fuck, Eddie," he laughs, breathless. Eddie's eyes are shining with joy. With love. Steve moves closer, until their lips brush against each other when he murmurs, "Love you so much."
Steve's heart has never felt as full as it does right now - as it continues to feel when they collide in a flurry of heated skin, soft lips, and quiet words of adoration. It's not the first time they've had sex, but it's the first time it's felt like this - like being wholly and completely cared for, for the first time in his life. Steve has tears in his eyes by the time they collapse against each other, sated and utterly in love, and Eddie devotedly kisses the tears away when they begin to fall.
In the aftermath, once they've both been cleaned up and caught their breath, Eddie pulls Steve into his arms so Steve's head can rest on his scarred chest. The soft thump of Eddie's heartbeat beneath his ear - proof that they survived everything they've been through, and that their reward is this beautiful, brilliant love - brings a smile to Steve's face.
He turns his head and presses his lips to Eddie's chest, just above Eddie's heart. Eddie's arms tighten around him.
"Love you, Eds," Steve murmurs, settling in and closing his eyes as sleep begins to beckon.
Eddie just holds him and runs nimble fingers through Steve's hair, bending to press a kiss to Steve's temple.
"Love you too, Stevie," Eddie whispers in his ear, voice perfectly, beautifully soft.
Written for the prompt "things you whispered in my ear" from this prompt request list I posted a couple of months ago! If you want to request another one of the prompts on the list, drop me an ask and I'll write it as soon as I can!
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the aftermath of Steve downplaying his injuries from the bats, a steddie thread 🧵 (also on twt here)
Eddie didn’t get it at first.
Sure, he’d seen Steve after the bat attack. He’d been bloody and a little loopy and bruised to hell, but they’d had priorities.
And Eddie was a little preoccupied, what with the whole being wanted for murder thing. Sue him if he was too self-involved to worry about Harrington’s injuries past shoving the gay panic down when he watched him bite a bat and then rend it in half with his bare hands.
And then he’d known nothing but pain, and then he hadn’t known anything at all, until he’d finally woken in the hospital, his name cleared, his nipple gone, and Steve Harrington sleeping at his bedside.
Several people - Robin most of all, pushy and panicked - tried to get Steve to let the doctors look him over, but he shrugged them all off each time. According to him they’d cleaned him up on the way in, disinfected the bites and slapped some stitches in place.
He insisted that since he hadn’t been admitted, he was fine - shook the orange bottle of antibiotics he’d been prescribed and everything. “Guys, come on,” he’d said, rolling his eyes. “Eddie just got out of a coma. Let’s focus on people who actually need medical attention, yeah?”
It had worked. Everyone had swarmed around Eddie to fawn over him instead, and while Eddie had glared at Steve tiredly at the time, he’d admit that he’d enjoyed it.
It was nice to be worried over. Stifling, sure, and he felt a bit guilty, but mostly he was just happy to be fucking alive and happy to have other people also be happy about it.
So he’ll confess - he let himself be used as a distraction. He let Steve deflect. In his defense, it worked on him too. He had no idea how bad Steve’s injuries had really been. Had no context at the time to guess how much Steve would downplay them.
So yeah, Eddie didn’t get it at first. But now, months later, now that they’ve saved the world and they’ve gotten closer and they’re friends, they’re more, he’s starting to understand.
Steve is self-sacrificing. Thank fuck it’s small-scale stuff now, watching him bitch but still drop everything to be there for the kids in a heartbeat, hearing the phone ring and Steve answer with a low “hey, Robbie–” and knowing he’s lost him for the rest of the day.
But then they’re hanging out one day, just the two of them, and it’s late and they're going to bed and they don't discuss it first just like they never do, but they're sharing the bed.
Somehow Steve's avoided changing in front of Eddie, not that Eddie's been waiting for it - he just realizes it when he turns and sees that Steve's dropped his pants.
It's funny. They've held one another and whispered back and forth and traded soft, careful kisses that they don't talk about much, but he's never seen Steve bare. It's an odd thing to realize.
Then Steve pulls his shirt off, and Eddie's stomach lurches.
“Holy fuck,” he says, strangled, unable to hold it back, and Steve looks over at him, immediately on edge.
“What?” he asks, dropping his shirt, hand twitching to the side like he’s going to grab the nearest blunt object - the nail bat is below the bed, Eddie sees Steve’s eyes dart towards it - to use as a weapon. Eddie ignores him, walking instead to him and grabbing his shoulders.
“Stevie,” he says, soft, bodily turning Steve so he can see his back.
The scars are fucking brutal. The skin is rough and discolored, pockmarked with pinkish new flesh that doesn’t blend in with the tan freckled expanse. They stretch down the length of his back on both sides, gnarly and uneven. Eddie swallows hard.
“Honey,” he says, and watches the spine in front of him stiffen. “What the fuck happened here?” He knows it has to be some sort of upside down bullshit, and he tries to fit it in with the horror stories he’s heard, but he’s coming up blank.
Steve is silent. His shoulders hunch a little, making his back bend, stretching the taut skin tighter. Eddie raises a hand and lays the gentlest touch he can to the scars. Steve still flinches. Eddie stills, but he doesn’t pull away.
He lets the quiet sit for a few beats, then steps a little closer, free hand fitting around the jut of Steve’s hip bone to pull his back to his chest. He ducks his head and brushes his lips in the space between Steve’s shoulder blades. Feels the edges of the scars with his mouth.
It’s more intimate than they’ve ever been, but something in Eddie is pulling at his heart, telling him it’s okay. That he doesn’t need to be scared of it, not here. Not now.
Steve has trouble talking sometimes. Eddie’s getting better about waiting him out. It’s always worth it and now is no exception. “Do you remember–” he starts, halting and quiet, then cuts himself off. “Of course you remember, sorry - the bats - my bats, not - not yours.”
Eddie just nods. “I remember,” he says. He rubs at Steve’s hip with his thumb, a soft, repetitive motion, the same kind of touch he likes to give the nape of Steve’s neck when the other boy curls up on his chest at night.
It soothes them both, and some tension leaves Steve. “Before, uh. Before you guys got down there - well, you saw them grab me and, uh, pull me down. They kinda…dragged me.” Eddie frowns.
“Dragged you,” he says, soft, and Steve nods. Eddie leans back just enough to see the scars again. They look like fucking road rash - and that’s essentially what they are, Eddie realizes, thinking of the dried-up lakebed, the stone and debris Steve would have been raked over.
He thinks of the distance between the gate and where they found Steve, tries to imagine how far Steve was dragged, and he feels a little sick. “Sweetheart,” he says, soft, and Steve makes a small, pained noise.
Eddie shifts closer again, wraps both arms tight around Steve’s middle, pulls him in close and tucks his nose into his throat. “Musta hurt like a bitch,” he says quietly, and Steve gives a tiny shrug. He lays his arms over Eddie’s, hands over hands, fingers lacing together.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steve just shakes his head.
“Too much was going on. We barely had time to wrap up the bites, I wasn’t gonna stop us just to patch up the rest.” Eddie gives a frustrated sound.
“We could have spared a few minutes–” Steve interrupts him before he can get a good rant going.
“We couldn’t. You know we couldn’t.” Eddie grits his teeth.
“Fine. Fine, but what about after? When we saved the world and you were sooo adamant you didn’t need a doctor?”
“Other people needed it more than me. You, Max, fuck - Eddie the whole town was in pieces.” Eddie doesn’t give a fuck about the whole town. Never has. Especially doesn’t now, knowing Steve never got the care he really needed.
He’s gearing up for a whole rant about it, but Steve keeps talking. “Besides,” he says, “I didn’t want anyone to worry.” And oh.
Suddenly, Eddie understands with perfect clarity and hates that he kind of wishes he still didn’t get it.
This was Steve at his self-sacrificing best - or worst. This was the aftermath of Steve putting himself last. Sure, these days it means he’s a little worn out from looking after the kids, or he’s drained from allowing Robin to change their plans on a dime.
But not long ago, the aftermath was this. Bruises, aches and pains and injuries that still bother him now, will bother him for the rest of his life. Repeated concussions and head trauma. Chronic migraines. Blurry vision and weak hearing on his left side.
And scars. Scars that he downplays and hides and does his best to not acknowledge. Something close to rage coils in Eddie, but he tamps it down. There’s nothing to rage against here. There’s only a beautiful boy in his arms who has seen enough anger to last a lifetime.
Eddie takes a deep breath, then turns his head to brush a kiss to the jagged silvery band wrapped around Steve’s throat and gets to feel and hear the soft, surprised sound he makes.
“I hate to break it to you, Stevie,” Eddie says, soft and gentle against his neck, “but people are gonna worry regardless.”
“But–”
“I’m gonna worry regardless,” he interrupts, kisses his neck again, and pulls a hand free to skate his fingertips along Steve’s bare stomach to feel the way he trembles beneath his touch.
“Eds,” Steve whispers, and Eddie hums quietly.
“D’you know why?” Eddie asks him. Steve gives a shaky little sigh.
“...Why?” he croaks, and Eddie can’t help it - he smiles, a little sad, a little fond, and so, so in love.
“Because I care about you, sweetheart,” he tells him, and Steve squeezes his hand so hard it hurts.
“Eddie–”
“I care about you,” he says again. “I worry because I care. And I’m always going to care, so I’m always going to worry.
So if you ever downplay an injury like this again, if you ever hide a hurt like this just because you don’t want someone to worry - well. We’re gonna need to have words, honey.” Steve manages a weak laugh.
“That a threat, Munson?” he asks, and Eddie hums. He moves his hands quick as lightning, grabbing Steve’s hips and spinning him around until he’s facing him, letting him brace himself on his chest so he doesn’t lose his balance.
It startles a laugh from Steve, and the heavy tension surrounding them gives way to something softer, gentler. Steve meets his gaze, teeth sinking into that pretty lower lip, and Eddie just barely manages to keep from getting distracted.
“Oh yeah,” he confirms, grinning softly at the look on Steve’s face, cautious and reluctant but so, so hopeful. “Don’t you know I’m dangerous, Harrington? I’m definitely capable of threatening and following through.”
Steve rolls his eyes and slides his hands up until he can lay his arms over Eddie’s shoulders.
“You’re so full of shit,” he says, and it’s the fondest insult Eddie’s ever gotten.
“Maybe,” Eddie allows, and he walks backward, pulling Steve along with him toward the bed.
“We can discuss how scary and threatening I am in the morning, huh?” They climb into the bed together and curl up tight. Eddie’s hand finds the nape of Steve’s neck, and Steve’s hands find Eddie’s chest, fingertips picking out the familiar patterns of Eddie's own scars.
They lay in silence for long enough that Eddie thinks Steve may have fallen asleep before he hears him speak again.
“I care about you too,” Steve says, and Eddie’s breath catches.
“Yeah?” Steve hums, nodding where his head’s resting on Eddie’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” he breathes, and Eddie looks down to find dark eyes already fixed on his face. He’s got this intense look to him, and he leans in, pressing their lips together.
It’s not their first kiss, but it feels special all the same. It feels significant, feels charged, slow and deep with Steve’s tongue swiping at Eddie’s mouth until he allows him entrance, teeth giving gentle nips and tugs.
Steve’s hand comes up to rest on Eddie’s scarred chest. Eddie’s touch slips down, traces over the scars along his back.
They’re like wings, he thinks a little deliriously. Like someone took this sweet boy and ripped his wings from him.
“Angel,” Eddie breathes when they finally break apart, lips spit-slick and kiss-swollen. Steve flushes at the name. He tilts his head and presses his mouth soft and sweet to the marred skin that snakes along Eddie’s jaw and cheek.
“Just for you,” he whispers into the kiss, and Eddie swears he feels his heart grow larger, trying to contain all the love he feels for this impossible creature.
In the morning, they’ll talk. They’ll define things. But for now, they have this, the soft, gentle exploration of each other, slow movements that drag even slower as sleep comes to claim them.
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Long Long Night | Joel Miller Smut
summary: "I'm not done with you." or big dick joel miller fucks you hard
warnings: smut! Minors DNI, 18+ only!! penetrative sex, afab!reader, joel calls you baby, rough sex, slight weighted blanket joel <3, dirty talk. Just filth bc im so horny for this guy
a/n: My first joel smut!! It's not long sorry but i just wanted to test the waters and see if i can even write joel smut at all lol. Also I should probably post this tmr bc its late af here but oh well
"J-Joel.."
You moan loudly as his hands grip your hips tightly, his fingertips definitely leaving bruises as he slams your hips back into him.
"Quiet." He groans as he shoves your head into the pillows. Leaning until his hairy chest is against your back. His hips thrust hard against you making you wail.
"So big.." You whine as you claw the sheets.
You love when Joel is rough, when he lets go of all his worries in that pretty head of his and fucks you until the sun comes up. All he could do is smirk, push you against the thin walls of your shitty little apartment and whisper the filthiest things imaginable in your ear.
It's how you ended up on his bed, stripped of your clothes and being destroyed by his cock.
His hands lock with yours as he pushes them deep into the bed. His weight presses you down, forcing you to stay still as he pounds deep into you over and over again. His power and speed never faltering as he bites down hard on your shoulder to muffle his moans. Your hips squirm helplessly he hits a sweet spot. You try to tug your hands from his grip but he doesn't budge.
"Makin' you feel that good baby?" He smiles into your skin.
Your desperate moans only making him want to fuck you harder. His cock stretches your poor pussy with every thrust. Your cunt flutters around his cock as you come hard, you swear you can see stars as you go limp under him.
It becomes apparently very quickly that Joel has no plans on stopping. He sits up on his knees and holds your hips up so he can properly fuck you.
One of his rough fingers slipping down to play with your clit. You jerk out of his grip and lean forward out of instinct. The overstimulation bringing tears to your eyes.
"Fuck!" You cry as he grabs your hips and brings you back.
Sliding his dick in hard until his hips meet your ass. Giving you no time to breathe as he continues to fuck the breath out of you.
"I'm not done with you." He growls. Fucking hell that might be the hottest thing he's ever said to you.
Exhausted you fall onto the bed. Grabbing the pillow above you and burying your face in it as you let Joel use you like a toy. The obscene sounds of your wet cunt is music to his ears.
Leaning down he brushes your cheek softly, cooing in your ear as he slams his hips and stills. His cock throbbing as you squeeze around him.
"So pretty baby, just stay like this for me okay?" He kisses your forehead and you smile tiredly. His hands glide down your body and you sigh happily. Fucked out by his cock and ready for him to do whatever he pleases.
"Gonna fuck you all night long."
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I Fucking Knew It….

Eddie Munson X Fem Reader
18+ Contains Smut
Minors please do not read
Eddie being his seductive little self 😈
You were one of the popular kids at Hawkins High, not quite Queen Chrissy, but she was your best friend. You had moved to Hawkins when you were 16 and had fallen in with Chrissy and her crowd because she was your neighbour and she had offered you shared lifts to school. You were never a bully but Jason was, he was Chrissy's Jock boyfriend and possibly self proclaimed King of Hawkins High, and you and Chrissy just fell into the routine. The targets of most of Jason's, and by default your, bullying were the DnD kids...the nerds. Jason's favourite target was their little dungeon Master, Eddie Munson. Though Eddie was thick skinned and didn't react much to insults towards himself, quite often throwing something sarcastic back. So Jason had created a new way to get at Eddie…
You were walking into the cafeteria with Jason and Chrissy one afternoon. Jason had spotted one of Eddie's little minions, I think his name was Dustin. Jason nudged into him and knocked his hat off, 'watch it brace face' he shouted loud enough for Eddie to hear. Dustin looked intimidated and scrambled to grab his hat off the floor, he hadn't even got it back on his head before Eddie was up in Jason's face. 'What the fuck Carver!!' he screamed 'Aww I'm sorry...did I hurt one of your little sheep' Jason cooed at him with a smile 'Pick on me all you want man, but leave them out of it' Eddie said squaring up. 'Yeah? What you gonna do about it….freak' Jason said in a daring tone. You watched in awe as Eddie wound his arm back and swung hard at Jason's face, hitting him square in the mouth. 'Touch any of them again Carver and I'll kill you' Eddie spat before grabbing Dustin's bag off the floor and walking back to their lunch table shaking small drops of blood off the fist he'd just clocked Jason with. You watched Eddie walk back with his other arm around Dustin's shoulder and couldn't help but giggle to yourself. You had seen Eddie pick on those kids almost every day in school, but god forbid if someone else were to try, he was like a big brother. You were knocked out of your trance by Jason screaming 'My fucking lip, fuck you Munson AND your little freaks!' Chrissy pandered to Jason for the rest of lunch, dabbing his face and rubbing his back. You hated Eddie, he was loud and obnoxious and a drug dealing loser, but you couldn't help but think the way he stood up for those kids was kind of sweet.
The second half of the day was sports day, you and Chrissy had gone to change into your kits, you had bought yours a size or two too small on purpose. It was a pair of short shorts and a tight school Jersey which you paired with white tube socks and sneakers. You knew it made your curvy figure stand out...that's why you did it.
Your event was high jump, you were the best at it, you had come first the last 2 years and even beaten the school record, it would be a breeze. You and Chrissy left the locker rooms to go and meet Jason and walk down to the playing fields together. On the way down you met none other than Eddie Munson walking the opposite way. He was dressed in his usual attire, black ripped skinny jeans and hellfire shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattooed bats on his forearm. He didn't seem like the sporty kind, likely just skipping class. As retaliation for what Eddie had done earlier Jason of course had to speak up, 'Hey freak!!' Eddie looked up at him from under his fringe. 'What do you wear those big chains for?' he continued, glancing down at the chains hanging from Eddie's belt loops, 'bet they're to make up for your small dick?' he jabs with a laugh.
Eddie chuckled at the ground before looking back up at Jason who was now standing right in front of him. 'Think what you want Carver, I've no need to prove anything to you, your fragile ego might shatter' you couldn't stop the little smile that crept across your face. 'Plus I don't think any of your pretty little sidekicks could handle it anyway...right y/n?' He said making eye contact with you. You wiped the smile quickly from your face as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.
What is going on? you just blushed at the thought of getting fucked by the freak. Nope nope nope...
You pull yourself together quickly and responded, 'In your dreams munson' you snapped. He whipped his head back round to meet your eyes 'only the wet ones sweetheart' he said with a wink before looking you up and down.
Your eyes widened as you felt a flutter shoot across your chest, but before your face could show what was really going on inside you sucked it back in again, faked a look of disgust and rolled your eyes. 'Whatever freak, I'm done here...I'm going to the bathroom' you pushed past him and began walking away from the group.
Once you were out of their line of view, you speed walked to the bathroom. Your mind was racing with questions, why did your heart flutter at the thought of Eddie having wet dreams about you? Why did you blush and imagine what his dick looks like? Why did you look down at his crotch as soon as it was mentioned? He was the school freak, you hated him! Or your friends did and you never questioned it. Maybe he wasn't so bad, he did seem protective over the younger boys in his group and he did have gorgeous brown eyes and a cheeky smile. You had made it to the bathroom and were standing in front of the mirror. 'Fuck y/n...snap out of it' you said out loud…'he's a freak.' You took a few deep breaths before leaving the bathroom to begin walking back to the playing fields and to your friends who were now hopefully far away from that loser. You rounded a corner and what a surprise, you spotted Eddie walking towards you, you tried to avoid eye contact but failed. He strode towards you with a slight smirk on his face, what was he thinking about?
The next thing you felt were his hands on your hips pushing you back against the lockers sandwiching you between them and his body. You gasped at his action and tried but couldn't stop the whimper that followed.
Neither of you said a word. You felt his hips pressed flush with your own, the cold metal of his rings digging into the exposed skin from your slightly risen shirt. You notice how he smells like a mixture of cheap cologne and cigarettes which you thought would disgust you but this was intoxicating. You glanced up into his darkening eyes to see that same devilish smirk from before. He ducked his head down towards your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck, before his whispered voice hit your ear sending a shiver down your spine, 'I fucking knew it'.
Despite the whispered tone you could hear the satisfaction in his voice. But before you could even properly react he had pushed himself off of you and was walking away leaving you breathless in a puddle of mixed emotions. You just stood there for a moment contemplating all your feelings, that was so hot, that gave you butterflies, was it just the action or was it Eddie? Nope nope nope...
You gave yourself a shake, gathered yourself together and got on with the day! When you returned to the group they immediately noticed something was up. 'Hey y/n, are you alright? Chrissy asked. You played it off, 'Yeah yeah, I'm fine I'm just a bit nervous about the high jump, that new girl looks like she'll be good', Chrissy nudged you gently, 'Girl you're the champion...you've got this in the bag.'
Your event came and went, you came third in the High jump. You knew you were the best but you couldn't focus on anything other than Eddie, flashbacks of earlier hitting you like a tonne of bricks every few minutes. In fact you couldn't focus on much of anything for the rest of the day. You went home that night and touched yourself thinking of Eddie, of his intoxicating smell, his rings on your skin, his breath on your neck, imagining what other sweet nothings, or rather, the dirty words he might whisper in your ear in the throes of passion. You felt dirty, disgusting almost, but it was the best orgasm you ever had. Pleasure coursing through your entire body, moaning his name over and over. If this was the kind of pleasure you got just thinking about him, imagine if he was the one performing instead of your own right hand. It felt wrong but god did you love it.
You went to school the next day feeling a little better...that was until you laid eyes on Eddie in Ms. O'Donnell's class.
The second he walked in he locked eyes with you and smirked when he noticed the empty seat beside you. Chrissy wasn't feeling well and had taken the day off. You knew by the look on Eddie's face that he wasn't going to pass up this opportunity to make you squirm again. I guess it was his little game now … see how much it would take for you to finally break, and if you were being honest with yourself you weren't far away, but he didn't need to know that.
Eddie walked right up to your desk and looked down at you 'this seat taken sweetheart?' You weren't going to let him win ' What's it to you, freak?' you questioned. 'Nothing, good seat, right at the back...you know.' Just as you were about to give another snarky response Ms. O'Donnell walked into the classroom, Eddie swung his bag onto the floor and sat down, knowing you could no longer protest, so you decided to just ignore him as best you could.
5 minutes into the lesson you were trying to concentrate but couldn't. Partly because of Eddie's burning presence, partly because he wouldn't stop tapping his pen on the table. Looks like this ignoring thing wasn't going to go as planned. 'Would you stop that?' you snapped at him in a whispered tone. 'Stop what?' he whispered back…'your pen asshole!' 'What you going to do about it?' he continued tapping his pen, only you could swear it was now louder.
You reached over and snatched the pen from his hand without turning your head away from the board in front of you. You didn't look but you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. He leaned his head in closer to you as he whispered in your ear again, 'sweetheart, going to need that back or I'm going to have to find something else to do with my hands.'
You could feel your cheeks flushing a light shade of red and that same shiver running down your back as you clenched your thighs together. Fuck...he knows exactly what he's doing and what was annoying you more was that it was working. You threw the pen back towards him and he caught it before it fell off the end of the table. Eddie smirked again and resumed the tapping. You didn't speak for the remainder of the lesson as you rather impatiently waited for the bell to ring. When it finally did you couldn't get out of there fast enough. You packed up your bag and as good as sprinted out of the classroom. Your brain was working in over time as you walked briskly down the quiet corridor, so much so you hadn't realised someone was walking directly behind you. You were snapped back down to earth when said person grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into a dimly lit storage closet and closed the door. It was Eddie.
'What the fuck Munson' you exclaimed in a fluster reaching for the door handle. 'ah ah' you heard as he grabbed your hand pulling it back down to your side. 'I'll let you leave if you answer one question', 'what do you want?' you snapped trying to mentally swat the butterflies that were invading your stomach. The storage closet was small, not leaving much room for the two of you, your faces just inches apart and that familiar addictive smell you remembered from yesterday filling the space around you. 'I saw what you did back there' he smirked down at you 'you know..with your legs' your face was burning at the thought, how the hell did he even notice that. 'That wasn't a question, freak' you spat at him. 'okay okay' he muttered as he traced his finger up your bare arm making your skin tingle. 'Question….do you want to do something about that?'
'Excuse me?' you choked. 'You heard me' he breathed out, bringing his face closer to your neck. You should have moved, but you didn't as he placed a gentle kiss just above your collarbone. You melted right there on the spot, accidently letting out a quiet moan. He raised his mouth back up to your ear, 'see I told you' he whispered 'I fucking knew it' He pulled his head back to meet your gaze. You couldn't believe this was happening, you were in a school storage closet with Eddie 'the freak' Munson, and you couldn't think of anywhere else you'd rather be. Without even thinking you lunged forward catching his lips with yours as he jerked back. He looked startled as if he wasn't expecting it. But the startled look quickly turned to hunger as he wrapped one arm around your waist as the other came up to the back of your head pulling you forward into a heated kiss, tongues and teeth clashing ungracefully. Your hands made their way to either side of his neck as his ran down your lower back to squeeze your ass making you moan into his mouth. He pulled back slightly to speak, 'If you want me to stop, just say the word and I promise you I…' you cut him off with another kiss, 'Please don't stop', you gasped through your next breath. The gutteral noise that escaped Eddie's throat following those words had to be the hottest thing you'd ever heard. He resumed his relentless attack on your mouth, hands wandering up your shirt toward the clasp of your bra. 'you sure about this princess' he said, breathless, 'I'm so sure' you replied before he released the clasp easily with one hand. You reached down and pulled your t-shirt over your head along with your bra. He gawked at your now bare chest. 'oh fuck' he choked 'you have no idea how badly I've wanted this', 'Then stop looking and do something big boy' you said smirking up at him.
Before you had a chance to think his mouth was latched on to your nipple. You moaned quietly enough so no one outside the room could hear and threaded your fingers through his long curly hair. It felt so wrong, but you didn't want it to stop. He came back up to bring you into another heated kiss as you dropped your hand to palm him through his jeans. He groaned into your mouth giving you the confidence to continue. You dropped to your knees and began fiddling with his belt buckle. He raised his arms up and rested them on the wall behind his head as you finally got past the buckle, undid the button and pulled his zipper down. You yanked his jeans down to his ankles and eagerly mouthed at the bulge in his boxers. You replaced your mouth with your hand as you looked up at him through your eyelashes looking for consent to continue. He didn't say any actual words, just a lazy 'mmhmm'.
You laced your fingers into the hem of his boxers and pulled them down allowing his already rock hard member to spring free. 'fuck' you gasped, 'whats wrong' he stuttered. 'Jason was wrong' you replied. Eddie was huge, bigger than you had ever had before. He pulled your face up by your chin to meet his gaze, 'Jason is wrong about a lot of things sweetheart' he chuckled before letting go. You focussed your attention back to his throbbing dick, wrapping your hand around it and placing your mouth around the tip. You continued to work it through moans and strings of profanities coming from Eddie, 'Fuck baby, if you keep...ah shit..going like that...I'm gonna cum', that only encouraged you to keep going. You started going a little faster, soon you felt his balls tighten and his dick twitched in your mouth before hearing a loud guttural moan as he finished in your mouth. You moaned around his dick as you swallowed.
He pulled you back up and placed his thumb under your chin, bringing you in for a soft passionate kiss. No guy had ever wanted to kiss you after doing that, your ex used to make you brush your teeth before he would kiss you again. This was even hotter to you, Eddie didn't care. You pulled your shirt back over your head and re-clasped your bra, he had just about pulled up his boxers and jeans as the bell rang again, you had missed your class but you couldn't care less. The sound of people filling the halls again caused you to panic slightly but Eddie was calm. 'One second' he said as you reached for the door handle, he leaned down and kissed you one more time before whispering again in your ear, 'We're going to finish this later…'
Please comment if you enjoyed this 😘
Click HERE for part 2
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i’m so in love that i might stop breathing.
i want to brainwash you into loving me forever, i want to transport you to somewhere the culture’s clever, confess my truth in swooping, sloping, cursive letters.
Eddie Munson is signed to a big-name label, one that monitors every move their artists make. The label practically runs half of LA, with so many artists under contract that Eddie’s not really sure how they can even keep track, let alone micro-manage every single one of them. But somehow they do it.
Eddie’s in the hard rock and metal division. Very rarely does he have to cross paths with artists outside of his genre. It’s not really an issue. It’s not like he’s going to collaborate with some bubblegum pink pop princess.
But then the label decides that they need to cross-market some of their artists. They’ve got lots of big names and Eddie’s on tour for his fourth studio album. He’s established, already done a world tour that was so successful the label had wanted to send him back out almost immediately, but he’d pushed back, asking for some time to write. So it’s been two years, but he’s written some of his best songs to date and the arenas are selling out.
Eddie’s so successful that the label decides that they’re going to pair him with some new up-and-coming singer-songwriter duo. The label wants at least one song, but hopes are high that Eddie will take them out as an opener for the last leg of the tour. Eddie’s given their EP a listen; he can’t really imagine that his demographic will ever overlap with theirs, but if this it what the label wants, then who is he to deny them?
It’s a sunny afternoon in LA when Eddie meets Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley at his favorite coffee shop downtown. It’s a safe place for celebrities, with a hidden back entrance and tinted windows, so he’s fairly certain they won’t be caught out together. Eddie’s ordered some lavender honey oat milk latte, something he would never admit to liking in a million years, but it tastes so good he makes the trip here at least three times a week. He’s sitting in a secluded corner, far enough from the windows that he won’t feel nervous, and he’s still got his sunglasses on, just in case.
He spots Robin and Steve almost immediately. They’re hard to miss, both beautiful and sun-kissed, smiling wide as they bicker before they both stop to look around the space.
“Hi!” Robin exclaims when she spots him, rushing over to his table. She grabs his hand between both of hers before he’s even had the chance to offer it to her and pumps it up and down a few times, like they’re shaking hands.
“Rob,” Steve mutters, placing a hand on her shoulder. Then, he turns his blinding smile on Eddie. Eddie had never believed in that whole ‘heart skipping a beat’ thing before but… he feels something happening in that region. “Sorry about her, she’s, like, a huge fan.” He offers his own hand to Eddie and they shake, the brush of skin on skin leaving Eddie just a little breathless, before Steve pulls out a chair and drops into it.
“Ugh, don’t make me sound like some creepy stalker, dingus.” Robin puts her hand on her hips. “What do you want?”
“Uh,” Steve squints at the menu before glancing down at the cup Eddie’s got between his hands. “What’d you get?” He directs the question at Eddie. Eddie tells him, only a little sheepish about it, and Steve smiles again. Eddie’s skin starts to feel itchy, too tight at his collarbones. “That sounds good. I’ll have that,” he tells Robin and she turns to head toward the counter, mumbling about having to order girly drinks.
Once they’re alone, Eddie slides his sunglasses off his face and up into his hair. He clears his throat before looking up into Steve’s face. Their eyes meet and something… happens. Something electric, something pulled taut between them. Eddie feels it and he’s pretty sure Steve does, too, judging by the way his lips part and his tongue darts out to wet them, quick and nervous. Eddie can’t stop staring. Neither can Steve.
Robin comes back with her hands full and glances between them. “Everything alright?” She asks slowly, cautiously, and their gazes finally snap away from each other, a blush rising in Steve’s cheeks.
Steve looks back into Eddie’s eyes like he just can’t help himself. Like he wouldn’t want to look anywhere else. “Yeah,” he says smiling. “Everything’s great.”
~*~
Eddie agrees to take them out on tour with him. The minute he saw Steve Harrington in the flesh, he knew he’d be taking them, but Robin turns out to be pretty cool too. He warns them that his fans can be pretty intense, that he can’t imagine they’ll be all that pleased with the kind of music the duo plays, but Robin and Steve assure him that they’re really just looking for some tour experience more than anything else. They’ll figure out the songwriting on the road, collaborate in a way that will bridge the gap between their style and Eddie’s.
When he gets home later that night, after a detour back to the label’s offices, Eddie can’t help but insta-stalk. He looks up Robin’s page first, upholding the pretense of ‘market research’ even in the privacy of his own mind. Most of her pictures include Steve and so it’s easy to be led away to Steve’s profile. It’s a natural progression. Totally normal.
Steve is… extremely cute. That’s usually not a word that Eddie would apply to someone he’s interested in—he tends to prefer the leather and chains variety much more than the sugary sweet type—but for some reason Eddie’s left breathless this time. He scrolls down Steve’s page, sees a picture of him with a herd of kids climbing on his back, another of him and Robin in matching sailor costumes. He hits the follow button without giving it too much thought and then slides back to his own page. Eddie is notoriously private, Instagram page consisting of only professional and promotional shots of him on tour with his band or in the studio recording. It’s not that Eddie is hiding anything, but he knows enough to know that the more you open up, the more that can be taken from you. He knows enough to know that the metal community can be somewhat closed-minded about some things, so he prefers to hide his personal life away, to keep some things precious and secret.
He wonders what Steve would think of his page, if he were to scroll through it. He wonders what it would be like to be open and honest about his personal life, about loving someone. What it would be like to not have to worry about losing fans, losing sales, losing bookings. To not worry about what the public would think of him.
He sighs and places his phone face down on his bedside table before turning out the light and drifting off to sleep.
~*~
Steve and Robin have been on tour with Eddie for two months and Eddie is almost positive that he’s falling in love with Steve. It was one thing to listen to Steve sing on their EP. It’s something totally different to watch Steve perform, to see his fingers slide up and down his guitar, the notes and his voice melancholy sweet. Eddie thinks almost anyone would fall in love with Steve if they’d just pay attention.
They haven’t done anything. Nothing has happened. But the green rooms and the tour busses have been full of lingering looks and soft brushes of skin. He’s pretty sure that Robin is close to saying something, clearly irritated by their pining. But Eddie’s still unsure. He knows it’s a lot, being on tour and in close quarters for the first time. It’s complicated and he doesn’t want to jeopardize Steve’s first big break. He doesn’t want to distract him. It’s easy to get caught up on tour, to mistake proximity for real feelings. It had happened to Eddie before; he didn’t want it to happen to Steve now.
Because this is a big deal, for Robin and Steve. Eddie had been unsure about taking them on, but, surprisingly, Eddie’s fans had embraced the duo. Their songwriting methods had complimented each other in a way Eddie hasn’t experienced since he first started writing with Gareth and the three of them had written five songs together already. Eddie would pull them both onstage halfway through his set to perform at least two of them and then again for one during the encore. The crowd went wild every time.
It’s the last night of tour when the space between them finally snaps in two. It’s the encore, they’re playing Eddie’s favorite of the five songs they’ve written together. They’ve made it through the complicated bridge, the final chorus, and now they’re closing out the last verse. The energy between Steve and Eddie practically crackles, almost visible under the harsh arena lights. Adrenaline is pumping, making Eddie feel invincible, and he can tell that Steve feels it too by the way he smiles across the stage at him. The final notes ring out and Eddie can’t help himself. He grabs for the strap of Steve’s guitar and pulls. Steve falls into Eddie’s chest, laughing, eyebrows raised, and Eddie can’t even think. His lips crash into Steve’s and it’s magical. Better than Eddie ever even dreamed it would be.
There’s a roaring in his ears as Eddie pulls back, reluctant. Steve’s eyes are still closed and he tries to follow Eddie’s mouth with his own, but Eddie laughs and gives him a little shake. Eddie glances around and realizes that the roaring he’d heard was the crowd going absolutely wild, screaming and cheering and clapping. Eddie looks back at Steve, who’s looking just a little dazed, blush on his cheeks and dopey smile on his lips. Robin’s screaming into her microphone, jumping up and down, egging the crowd on. Steve looks around the arena, still smiling, before looking back at Eddie and mouthing something in his direction. It’s too loud, Eddie can’t hear him over the crowd, so he shakes his head just a little. Steve tries again but Eddie still can’t hear him, so he raises his microphone to his lips.
“Finally,” Steve practically shouts, voice ringing out across the cavernous space. “Thought you’d never take the hint.”
All Eddie can do is laugh and pull Steve in for another kiss as the crowd continues cheering.
@grtwdsmwhr gave me “i want to brainwash you into loving me forever” and this is what I came up with i guess
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Falling
Dedicated to @madigoround, my one constant Steddie cheerleader. I hope you like it! ❤️
It’s said if you truly want to get to know someone, tell them no. Watch how they act when they’re angry, when they’re sick, when they’re wrecked by grief.
The truth is, Eddie thinks, the way to truly get to know someone is to watch them when they think they’re not being watched.
So, Eddie watches people. He watches Tommy Hagan ascend the ranks of social hierarchy, climbing closer and closer to the top of the totem pole until he reaches the zenith and finds himself stuck with fake friends and a fake life. He’s mean, in the way that Eddie knows someone is mean to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it.
Eddie leaves him alone, ignores him best he can, and hopes Tommy will have the dignity to do the same.
He watches Carol Perkins, faux-model that she is, use her body like a weapon, like a credit card. He knows that she knows that way only heartbreak lies. No one moves to stop her. Eddie knows she’s hurtling towards self-destruction. He knows she’s ignored at home.
He watches Steve Harrington. His ascent to popularity, then in the blink of an eye, his fall. How easily he shrugs off the mantle of King Steve, starts carting around middle schoolers.
How he flinches at loud sounds, abrupt movements, flickering lights.
Steve Harrington intrigues Eddie, is the thing. And Eddie’s never been the type to deny his intrigues. So he studies the fallen king more.
Some things make sense, after spring break. Some things don’t.
Steve has three smiles: the real one, the one everybody thinks is real, and the fake customer service one. He hardly ever uses the first. He’ll use the second a lot. The kids are dipshits, brash in the way only a teenager can be, unaware and uncaring of the effect their words have. Specifically, the effect their words have on Steve.
When they make jokes about his intelligence, Steve will force on a little half-smile, an unaffected air, even as his shoulders slump inward and his chin tips down.
Eddie sees it. He also sees what Steve looks like, eyes wide and wild, grinning and gesturing freely, as he discusses basketball with Lucas or football with Uncle Wayne. Eddie understands the stats he somehow manages to keep track of (even Eddie has notebooks for all his character sheets and all the math everything requires. He’s forgotten, more than once, how he’d done something for a past campaign, and digs through his notebooks until he finds it. But Steve pulls the numbers out of thin air, hardly even pausing as he finds them in his mental filing cabinet, and Eddie is impressed, to say the least). He knows Steve’s smart, even if it’s in a different way than the kids are used to.
He makes a point to mention it. Steve’s over watching the game with Wayne, and Eddie whistles as he listens in to their conversation from the kitchen where he’s making lunch. “That’s some memory,” he says, shaking his head. “I know I couldn’t keep all that straight.”
Steve blinks at him. “What, like all your D&D people?”
“Characters. You don’t want to see the amount of notebooks I have, trying to keep everything straight, and it still ends up all going to hell when I can’t find something.” He raises a challenging brow, daring Steve to argue.
Steve just laughs and leans back into the couch. “Whatever, man, I still think it’s impressive. I’ve been watching for years, it just kinda makes sense that I’d remember a few facts.”
“A few?” Eddie’s eyes light up. “Wayne, quiz him.”
Wayne snorts. “What’m I, your errand boy?”
“Yes,” Eddie says, just to be contrary. He grins at the snicker it pulls from Steve. “Please, Wayne?”
Wayne narrows his eyes at Eddie, then softens his gaze when he moves it over to Steve. “You up for it?”
Steve chuckles. “Sure, I guess. It’d be nice to see how much I actually know.”
For the next few minutes, Wayne gives a name and within a few seconds, Steve’s answered with stats about that person.
Eddie, ever the competitive soul, ends up invested, grinning and high-fiving Steve when Wayne runs out of names. “Knew it,” he said, happily noting the blush making its home on Steve’s cheeks.
“Ha,” Eddie jokes later, ribbing Dustin because he can. “Kiddo, that was worse than-” he thinks for a few seconds, then sighs and raises his voice. “Steve? Who was the guy who did the thing you and Wayne were mad about?”
Dustin judges him with his eyebrows. “Even if Steve had any idea what you’re saying, what makes you think he’d know-”
“Phil Simms,” Steve called back from the kitchen. “Great player, actually, just wrong team.”
Eddie hummed, enjoying the shocked look on Dustin’s face. “Nah, not quite doing it. Who’s the losingest team?”
Losingest team, Dustin mouths, mocking. Eddie notes that he doesn’t actually say anything this time, though.
“Depends. Jets started at ten to one, then lost their final five games. But the Giants beat the Redskins 17 to zero. They also beat the 49ers 49—heh—to three, but that was earlier in the season, and no one expected San Francisco to win anyways.” He walks out of the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, a thoughtful look on his face. “Does any of that help?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie says, even though he has zero idea what Steve actually said. He’s staring, smug grin firmly affixed to his face, at Dustin.
Lucas, over on the couch, sits up straight and stares at Steve. “Did you see Montana’s comeback?”
Steve grins. “Fuckin’ wild, man, but I kinda hate Walsh for letting him. Like, I’ve been there, right? And that was…” he shakes his head. “Not good. Yeah, it’s been weeks, whatever, but an injury like that?” Steve crosses his arms, shakes his head.
Eddie stares, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, possibly, falling.
When the kids make jokes about Steve’s appearance, he’ll put a hand to the back of his neck and rub, force down the blush, avoid eye contact.
Eddie knows Steve’s not shy. So he doesn’t understand why Steve reacts like that until one day he compliments Steve. It’s a simple little line, you have gold in your hair, but Steve beams. Eddie’s left wondering about the difference, realizes there’s a certain type of compliment Steve’s received all his life, that probably ended up less than welcome at some point.
So Eddie makes it his life’s mission to make Steve beam the way he had the first time.
One time they’re out lounging by the pool while the kids splash around, beers in hand, talking about everything and nothing. Steve tips his head back to take a drink and Eddie realizes something. He leans forward to get a better look. “Your eyes are hazel,” he says delightedly, grinning at the flush rapidly showing on Steve’s cheeks.
Steve looks like he’d very much like to take a page out of Eddie’s book and hide behind his hair in that moment. He hides behind his beer instead, takes another sip as he waits for his face to get back under control. “Are they?” He asks, like he doesn’t know. He’s such a little shit. Eddie’s obsessed.
Another time, Eddie breaks in (is it breaking in if everyone and their mother knows where Steve puts the spare key?) and starts making breakfast while Steve’s out on a run. He almost swallows his tongue when Steve walks back in, sweaty and flushed, wearing shorts that God Himself must have sculpted just for Steve.
Instead of saying that, Eddie adopts an unaffected face and raises a brow. “Pretty sure there’s a fine for public indecency, sweetheart, and those shorts break about eight of those rules. ‘Course, no one’s gonna say anything when they’re on you.”
Steve laughs, light and happy as he accepts the water Eddie hands him. “And why’s that?”
“Because I think you single-handedly caused every gay crisis on the police force.”
Steve laughs hard enough he snorts, and Eddie’s immediately hellbent on hearing that sound again. “That so?” He asks, then pauses. “Wait, what the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”
Eddie shrugs, like it should be obvious. “Making breakfast. I wanted pancakes.”
“And you couldn’t make them at your place?”
Eddie just shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. Steve badly hides his grin as he shakes his head and turns around, citing a need for a shower as he heads upstairs. “Don’t burn the house down!”
“Betrayal!” Eddie yells back, grinning when Steve cackles again.
Eddie stares as Steve walks upstairs, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, probably, falling.
Eddie studies Steve. Studies him and watches him more and more. His mannerisms, his interactions with others. And he realizes something very interesting: Steve’s always the one to reach out.
He tugs Dustin into a teasing headlock, rubs his knuckles over the top of his head. Flings his arm over Lucas’s shoulders, pokes at Mike until he responds, bumps Will’s elbow with his own. Brushes his fingers over Max’s arm, pulls El into a hug. Robin is the only person who consistently pulls Steve into a hug, and even so, most of the time it’s teasing; a quick, sharp thing, jerky movements and practically pushing him away when she’s done.
So Eddie starts. Brushes his hand across Steve’s shoulders as he’s walking by. Poking at Steve’s cheeks to get a reaction. Quick, tight hugs, at first.
Or… that was the plan. The first time he pulls Steve into a hug, they’re alone, because Eddie does not want to have to deal with Dustin and his dramatics in that moment. So Eddie pulls Steve in, arms flung around him and squeezing in a half-joking manner, and Steve practically melts.
“Jesus fuck,” Eddie mutters, stumbling a little. “You good, Stevie?”
Steve pulls back, a blush making its way across his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. It- it won’t happen again.”
Eddie frowns. “How the fuck is that what you got from it?”
Steve shrugs. “I know I can be… well, Nancy called it clingy, and I’ve had a few girlfriends in the past who called it clingy, and if it looks like a rose and smells like a rose, then…”
“Shit, Steve, no, that’s not- what the fuck were your girlfriends on? Why would they call that clingy? That’s not- Christ, Steve, if that’s clingy, sign me up. Seriously. Just warn me next time, we don’t all have the body of a Greek god, we can’t all carry our somewhat-acquaintances out of hell.” He grins at Steve, a half-thing that grows when Steve tentatively grins back.
“Body of a Greek god?”
“Oh, don’t go fishing for compliments, I know you, you’re not that shallow.” He rolls his eyes, smiles. Tentatively places his hands on Steve’s arms, just above his wrists. “You hear of something called touch-starved?”
Steve cautiously looks him in the eye. “I can guess,” he finally says, and Eddie pulls him into another hug.
This one lasts for something close to a minute, and Eddie ignores it when Steve takes a step back and molds his face back into shape. “Anytime,” he says quietly, like a promise. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Steve agrees.
It happens again a week later.
Everyone’s over for Hellfire. Steve was in the kitchen, had been there practically since everyone had trickled in.
There’s a quiet clatter, an even quieter shit, then a pause before Steve heaves a sigh. “Eddie?”
Eddie furrows his brows in concern, motions for everyone to stay where they are, then makes his way into the kitchen, seeing Steve gripping the edge of the sink. “Steve?”
“I’ve been having a shit day,” he starts. “If… if you meant what you said. Last time?”
“Anytime,” Eddie swears. “Hey, Stevie, c’mon, the sink’s not going anywhere, let’s let go, yeah? Wanna stay down here or go upstairs?”
Steve makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. “Your game-”
“Will be there later,” Eddie finishes. “Here or upstairs?” Steve shakes his head, a sharp movement, and Eddie recognizes it. “Want me to pick?”
“Please.”
“Upstairs. Can you do it yourself?”
Steve makes another guttural noise, pulls away from the sink, and marches upstairs.
Eddie follows. All the way upstairs, into Steve’s room, pausing to close and lock the door. “We’re safe,” he says quietly, and opens his arms. “Stevie?”
Steve trembles as he allows himself to be hugged, hands fisting in the back of Eddie’s shirt, head guided to the junction of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.
Eddie pets a solid hand down Steve’s back, squeezing at his waist for a moment before bringing it up again, just below his neck. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “We’re all okay, we’re all safe. What’re you seeing, Stevie?”
Steve takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Had a dream ‘bout you last night,” he admits. “Kinda fucked me over.”
Eddie’s heart clenches. “I’m here,” he promises, and guides them onto the bed. “D’you want to be on top or bottom?”
He feels Steve’s brows scrunch against his shoulder. “What?”
“Some people need the pressure of someone on them. It’s grounding. For some, it’s too much.”
“Oh,” Steve mutters. “You on top.”
Eddie bites his tongue on the joke that wants to come out. “M’kay, c’mon, then, still not the one with the body of a Greek god.”
He feels Steve’s tentative smile as they roll over, a breath huffed into his chest. “Always liked Apollo.”
“God of the sun,” Eddie agrees. “Suits you.” He gets his arms out from under Steve, puts them on his shoulders. “This work?”
Steve hums. His eyes are shut. “Didn’t wanna take you from your game. Sorry.”
“And I told you it’ll be there later. If you need something, I want to help you get it. Simple as that.”
Steve sighs, tips his head to the side. His chin brushes the back of Eddie’s hand, and he does it again. “This works.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, watching Steve brush his chin over the back of his hand. “If there’s something you want, I need you to ask for it. I can’t read your mind.” Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes open, and Eddie clicks his tongue. “Close your eyes.” They drop shut again, and he nudges the back of his hand a little harder against Steve’s chin. “What do you want?”
Steve sighs again, gathering courage. “Want you to play with my hair.”
Eddie’s heart skips a beat. He brushes his hand up, traces the line of Steve’s silhouette, up his chin, his nose, around his eye. Drags the backs of his fingers across his forehead, surreptitiously checking for a fever. Nothing. Steve relaxes back into the pillows.
Eddie gets a hand in Steve’s hair and tugs gently, releasing to scrape his fingertips over Steve’s scalp. Revels in the hum Steve lets out. “Sunshine boy,” he murmurs. “Who takes care of you?”
“Sunshine boy?”
Eddie smiles softly, even though Steve’s eyes are still closed. “Gold hair, gold eyes. My own personal Apollo.”
Steve smiles. “You’re Dionysus.”
“Mm. God of drunken joy and madness.”
“And theater.”
“Oh, yes, how could I ever forget one of the billion things one of the billion gods was known for.”
Steve snorts. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hands brushing Eddie’s waist. “I shouldn’t need this. Any of it.”
Eddie cards his hand through Steve’s hair again. “But you do.”
“But I do,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “And you just… you’re selfless.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
Steve snorts. “You’re full of shit.”
“Yup. Selfless and full of shit. Sounds about right.”
“Oh my god,” Steve laughs, cracking open an eye to look at him. They both still, caught in each other’s gaze, realizing just how close they are to each other.
Slowly, so slowly, Steve looks away. “Go back to your game,” he whispers. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Okay,” Eddie responds at the same volume, and slowly gets up. He lifts his hand off the doorknob when Steve calls his name. “Yeah?”
“Stay? After?”
“Sunshine boy,” he says again, just to get that smile. “Yeah, Stevie. I’ll stay after.”
After comes sooner than either of them expect, but Dustin got sloppy, and what’s the point of one-shots if not to throw them to the wind when it all goes to shit, so there’s a lot of good-natured ribbing and thoughtless decisions and uncaring dice rolls before it ends and everyone’s packing up.
Dustin’s mom comes to pick up everyone who didn’t drive there, because she’s an angel of a woman, and Eddie makes excuses for why he’s staying until finally he doesn’t have to, it’s just him and Steve, and Steve’s looking at him with the softest smile and something that looks like adoration shining in his eyes.
Eddie opens his mouth to start, then shuts it with a shake of his head. “C’mon,” he says finally. “Let’s go sit on the couch.”
Eddie sits first, and Steve stands, hands wringing one another, until Eddie leans forward, grabs them, and gently guides him to sit next to Eddie. “There.” He holds one of Steve’s hands in his. “Do you want to start, or should I?”
Steve worries his lip. “Do we need to talk about it? If we both know what we’re saying?”
Eddie grins. “So if I were to start talking about buying little party hats for raccoons…”
Steve snorts. “Okay, you ass, point taken.” His smile falls. “You’ve been… really nice to me, these past few months. And that’s not why, not at all, but it doesn’t exactly hurt either. I just…” he shakes his head. “Why me?”
“Why you what? Why am I nice to you? Why have I been taking care of you? Why-” the question sticks in his throat for half a second. “Why do I like you?”
Steve smiles, bashful, and looks down at their intertwined hands. “All of the above, basically.”
Eddie taps the back of Steve’s hand thoughtfully. They both watch the movement. “Because you’re worth it,” he says simply. “Because no one else does it. No one else sees what you do for them. No one else cares. I do. I don’t think I was given a choice, honestly, you looked at me and I was fuckin’ gone. And I’m gonna keep doing this until you believe me. Until you believe that you deserve to take up space, to exist, to have wants and opinions and preferences.”
“It might take a while.”
“I’ll be right here.”
“I might never fully believe it.”
“I’ll be here forever.” He pulls their intertwined hands up to press a kiss to the back of Steve’s.
“It sounds like a lot of boring work.” His voice is high, thready. There are tears in his eyes that fall when he blinks.
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
Watery eyes narrow at him. “Did you just quote a fucking Greek tragedy at me?”
“Uh. Maybe?”
Steve snorts, shakes his head, and leans in to lay his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s old news, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head, feels his heart skip a beat when Steve responds by nuzzling his throat. “Is that it, then? We’re done talking?”
Steve sighs and tilts his head up so they can look at each other. “I like you too,” he says quietly. “Just… for the record. And I want this. And…” he bites his lip, then just as quickly releases it. “I wanna kiss you. Um. If that’s alright.”
“Sunshine boy,” Eddie murmurs. “Of course that’s alright. Get up here.” He pulls as Steve pushes up, meaning Steve overbalances and sprawls across Eddie’s lap. They stare, wide-eyed, at each other for a beat before bursting into laughter.
“Okay?” Eddie checks, even as Steve rights himself and scrambles the rest of the way onto Eddie’s lap, grinning as he plays with the hair at the nape of Eddie’s neck.
“Perfect.” His grin grows and a tiny little giggle slips out, like he’s so happy his body just can’t contain it all anymore. “I’m gonna kiss you.”
It’s less a warning, more an explanation for why he’s so happy, and it has Eddie’s heart full to bursting in his chest as he slips his hands just under the hem of Steve’s shirt to rest them directly on his waist. “You are,” he agrees. He almost jokes—not if I kiss you first—but knows Steve needs this. “Take your time,” he says instead, even though he feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest, like he’s about to vibrate out of his own skin. His hands are steady, though, as are his eyes when he looks into Steve’s.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” He’s whispering now, so Eddie drops his voice to match.
“It’s a big thing. You’re allowed to be nervous. Is there any way I could help?”
Steve scrunches his nose up, then moves to rest their foreheads together. “Um. Close your eyes? Maybe?”
Eddie’s eyes immediately shut. “Take your time,” he promises. “Or we can wait. There’s no shame. I won’t be upset.”
“Yeah, but I will,” Steve jokes, and Eddie chuckles.
“There’s a movie,” he starts. “An old silent film that Wayne likes. I watched it with him because he said something about vamp, so of course my mind went to vampire. It wasn’t, to my dismay, but there’s a line. A seductress bewitches men by getting them to kiss her. One man’s about to kill her, like gun-to-the-head about to kill her, and she says kiss me, my fool.”
He can practically feel Steve’s grin. He can definitely hear it. “Which one am I?”
“Oh, definitely the seductress, have you seen yourself, sunshine? I’m the fool in this scenario. Or any scenario, really.”
Steve hums. “Dionysus.”
“Shut up.” He’s laughing, though, grinning at Steve’s giggle, then freezes when Steve’s lips land on the corner of his. “Oh,” he whispers when Steve pulls away.
Steve laughs softly, puts a thumb at the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. “You can open your eyes.” He’s whispering again, and Eddie looks to see Steve staring at him, a small, wondering smile on his lips.
“Heya, sunshine,” he whispers, almost choking on the amount of emotions he feels.
“Hi.” He pauses, fidgets. “Can I kiss you for real?”
“Yeah. You want me to close my eyes?”
Steve shakes his head. “Just… kiss back.”
Eddie grins, wide and in love. “I was planning on it.”
Steve grins back, just as wide and just as happy. “Shut up.”
“And if I said make me…”
Steve giggles. “I might just have to,” he says before finally leaning in, slotting their lips together in a slow, sweet kiss.
He tastes like the pizza they’d been eating and the beer they’d been drinking, and underneath that is something so Steve, and Eddie wants to spend the rest of forever discovering that taste. When they pull apart, his eyes open—when had he closed them?—and land on Steve, who’s also in the process of opening his eyes. “Wow,” he murmurs, and Steve giggles as he rests their foreheads together again.
“Just about.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please,” Steve whispers, so Eddie wastes no time in sealing their lips together again. It’s still soft and slow and sweet, and Eddie focuses on making Steve relax against him. He cards a hand through Steve’s hair, squeezes a little at the nape of his neck, runs it down his back, down his side, to knead at his hips. In response, Steve hums into the kiss, shifting a little to let more of his weight rest on Eddie’s lap. Eddie does it again and again, thrilled at the feeling of Steve finally relaxing fully onto him. They both pull away, lips wine-dark and tender, and Steve smiles, eyes still closed, as Eddie runs his hand through his hair one more time. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fall asleep,” he murmurs, and Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the trust in his voice.
“Maybe that’s my plan,” he answers. “I seduced you just to get you to take better care of yourself.”
Steve’s smile widens. “That’s the only reason?”
“Obviously,” Eddie teases. “Well, that and the fact that I’m ridiculously into you, but that seems like a separate thing.”
“Right,” Steve agrees, giggling. He opens his eyes and presses a quick peck to Eddie’s nose. “I’m kinda ridiculously into you, too.”
“Well,” Eddie says, because out of everything, of course this would be what takes his words away. “Good.”
“Good,” Steve agrees, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie leans back into the couch, adjusting his hold on Steve so he’s as comfortable as possible. “G’night,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss over Steve’s temple.
He can feel Steve’s lips lift into a smile. “Night, Eds.” He presses a kiss to Eddie’s neck, and Eddie smiles as he tilts his head back into the couch.
He stares up at the ceiling, enraptured. Obsessed. Maybe, definitely, falling.
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Sleeping Bag (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 1.7K
Summary: you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his
Tags: age gap (mostly implied), anxiety, fluff, protective/caring!joel, comfort, cuddling, sharing a sleeping bag (instead of the one bed trope lol), kissing (forehead and lips), it’s just cute short and fun
A/N: simple and quick, inspired by ep 4 when joel and ellie were in sleeping bags in the woods, but no explicit spoilers. I’ve been wanting to write for joel since episode one and finally got an idea. pretty sure more will be coming soon…
Cross-posted to ao3 • writing masterlist

After sleeping in a bed in the QZ’s for years, suddenly trying to get comfortable in a sleeping bag on the ground was proving difficult for you.
What a spoiled thought to have, right? Well, it wasn’t just that. You were out in the open woods. There could be infected anywhere. They could come for you any second. How could you close your eyes and rest peacefully knowing you were no longer behind the barrier walls?
Ellie was already asleep, you could hear her light snores. Your back was facing him, but you assumed Joel was asleep as well given his stillness. You rolled from your side to your back and sighed.
You had to sleep. You should’ve been tired. You and Joel had taken turns driving, although since you didn’t have much driving experience Joel became concerned when you began to struggle with the gear shift and mixed up the pedals (it only happened once but he couldn’t let it go). Joel had grown exhausted and didn’t want to stress you out by making you drive without him as backup/support, so you all stopped for the night. He was thoughtful like that; even if he was a bit grouchy sometimes.
You turned from your back to your other side, eyes landing on Joel. He was facing you, eyes closed, breathing steadily. The older man actually seemed to be at peace. He only looked like that when he was asleep. The moment he woke up, you knew he’d have that slight pout and furrow of his brows that you’d become accustomed to.
If Joel caught you staring, you wondered what he’d say. You could never pinpoint the way he viewed you. Friend? Daughter? Burden? You’d be way more okay with the previous two as long as it wasn’t the third. Although if you were being honest with yourself, you hoped it was none of the above.
Despite his age and his tough nature, you had a thing for Joel. Like, a thing. Feelings, attraction, affection—whatever you wanted to call it. Definitely a crush. Love? Maybe. It was a little bit confusing, but nothing in this life was simple.
Joel had taken you under his wing a while back and looked after you. He was incredibly protective and even if he wasn’t the best with expressing himself, Joel cared for you. He made you feel safe. He was there for you when you had no one else.
You rolled to your other side. Then back. Simply put, tossing and turning. The thought that you were being loud don’t even cross your mind until—
“What are you doing?” Joel’s voice caught your attention.
You let out a sigh, feeling bad that you’d woken the man up. You turned back to face him. “I can’t sleep,” you confessed.
“I can tell,” he murmured. “Do you plan on rolling around all night?”
You frowned to yourself. “I'm sorry.”
Joel exhaled softly and even in the dark, you could see the sympathy in those deep brown eyes of his. You hadn’t realized that subconsciously, you’d moved closer to him.
“It’s okay.” He had a soft spot for you, even though he’d probably deny it.
“I’ll try and be… still, I guess.” You knew you weren’t going to be able to sleep. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.
“No,” he decided after a moment. You furrowed your brows. “You need sleep too.”
“I can’t get comfortable,” you replied. You let a few seconds pass before adding, “…and I’m too anxious.”
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” Joel promised like if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that.
It meant a lot, it really did. But you huffed out a humorless laugh and went to a worse case scenario. “You’re all the way over there. If an infected wanted to get me, it could. Before you could stop it.”
Joel was quiet for a few beats. You hadn’t meant to insult him, but it was true. It didn’t matter how safe you felt with him there. They were faster than him. Faster than anyone.
“So then come over here,” Joel offered, voice still thick with sleep. It sounded incredibly enticing.
The image of you crawling into his sleeping bag crossed your mind faster than you could stop it. You had to do a double take. “Like… scoot over there?” you tried to clarify inconspicuously.
“If you’re against sharing with me.”
So, he had meant what you’d hoped for. Your heart skipped a little beat and you swallowed.
“I’m not.”
All Joel did was hum. You unzipped your sleeping bag and left the warmth. Joel was ready and waiting when you moved over to him, enveloping you into the safety of his sleeping bag and heavy arms. You wiggled around a little bit until you got comfortable. For the first time since you’d left the QZ, it didn’t take long.
“Thank you,” you mumbled softly, trying to keep your breathing calm. Being so close to Joel was causing you to become less focused on sleep and more focused on the way his breath sounded so close to your ear.
“Mmhhmm,” he hummed from deep in his throat with closed lips. You thought it was going to be left at that, but then you heard his gruff voice. “I know it’s been hard on you.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but he continued. “Even if you’re too stubborn to admit it beyond makin’ snarky comments.”
You took in a breath. He got you on that one, and you both knew it. “Since when do you know me this well?”
“Since always,” Joel pointed out. “You’re easy to read.”
“For you maybe.”
“Yeah, for me,” he agreed, sounding pleased with himself. Joel was silent for a long moment, listening to the soft rustle of your body as you gazed around your surroundings. The grass, the trees, the darkness… “I’m sorry for being so selfish.”
The sudden apology confused you. “What?”
“You’ve never been outside of the QZ before, and for good reason,” Joel started. “It’s a scary world out here and I shouldn’t have subjected you to it. I shouldn’t have brought you along.”
His voice was full of guilt that seemed to come out of nowhere, but given all he had to say you suspected he’d been carrying it since you left.
“I wanted to come with you,” you assured him. You never second guessed that decision despite everything that had happened so far. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’re scared and it’s my fault.” You could hear the deep frown in his voice.
“You’re the reason I feel safe right now,” you said without a second thought. It was true. You wanted him to know that. There was something you wanted to know too, now, and you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you not want me here?”
“I do,” Joel confessed. “That’s why I’m selfish.” There was a pause but you didn’t dare speak. “I didn’t want to be away from you.”
A wave of realization crashed over you.
You wiggled around, turning until you were facing him. You offered him a soft, delicate smile that you hoped he could see despite the dark.
“It almost sounds like you care about me. A lot,” you couldn’t help but tease.
“You know I care about you,” Joel stated, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he’d tried to cover it up in the past, but someone would have to be blind to not see that you meant something to Joel.
“I care about you too,” you admitted with much more ease. He knew, though.
Joel, in an uncharacteristically soft gesture, pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could hardly believe it. But it felt nice. You liked the affection. And coming from someone like Joel who never let their guard down, it was significant enough to leave you speechless.
“It’s gonna be daylight soon,” he muttered. “You should try and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, okay,” you agreed with a slight nod. “Just… one more thing.” It took everything you had to be brave enough to say that, and to do what you were going to do next.
There was basically no space between the two of you, but you managed to bring your hand up to Joel’s face and cup his jaw. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
Joel didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. He took charge, but it wasn’t surprising. He had a dominating presence and was rough around the edges, you didn’t think he’d be delicate with you.
Not that you minded.
His lips moved against yours, almost in a frenzy. Like he was scared you’d slip away from him. It was so needy, so passionate. You wished you would’ve done this much, much sooner
Joel found the willpower to break away from the kiss before you. You would’ve happily lost consciousness in order to kiss him for just a few more moments. But then you’d worry him, and you hated to see Joel worry.
But you didn’t see worry when you looked into his eyes. You saw a hint of wonder. You were both staring into a new beginning as you gazed upon one another. He was panting a little, both of your soft breaths intertwining.
“You need sleep,” he reminded you.
Of course he still couldn’t drop the protector role. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. You smiled to yourself, the feel of his lips still ghosting yours despite the distance. You twisted in the sleeping bag without a word, knowing that you’d never be able to sleep facing Joel. You’d probably be too busy staring at him…
So yeah, you laid with your back to his chest and closed your eyes. His arms held you tight against his firm body. Not only providing warmth, but security as well.
“Goodnight,” Joel mumbled to you, already dozing back off. You could hear the soft smile in his voice despite the tiredness. It seemed easier for him to sleep wherever, although you liked to think you were bringing him some kind of comfort as well. With the way he held you against him it wouldn’t be an unrealistic thought.
“Goodnight, Joel,” you replied softly, finally able to relax your breathing. The feel of Joel’s body pressed against you, his strong arms around you—it felt like a dream. Safe and sound, away from the dangers that lie not far off. And soon enough, you were finally able to close your eyes and fall into a peaceful sleep.
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