#STEVE CHILL MY DUDE

[lets-try-to-be-normal-otakus]

I have phantom of the opera stuck in my head, so pls join me in the idea of a phantom steddie au

[every-dayiwakeup]

[sadhours]

steve with a degradation kink 👀 jokingly calling him a pervert and he gets so flushed and embarrassed

heheh no I love this

steve harrington x f!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, steve and reader are childhood best friends, one use of y/n, perv!steve, degradation kink, oral (f receiving), hand stuff

💖💖💖💖

you noticed your best friend reacted strangely to criticism. depending on the person. when his dad criticized him, his face went stoic and he replied to Mr. Harrington with one word answers. same kind of thing when his boss did it at work, though he wore his annoyance on his face then. when robin did it, he rolled his eyes. but when pretty girls who weren’t lesbians, at least to his knowledge, did it, his face got all flushed and his pupils would about double in size. and you found that intriguing. you’d done it plenty within the long years of your friendship but you’d never actually looked at how he responded. until one day.

a winter day. it was too cold to chill by the pool and the harrington’s were home. so you were confined to his horridly designed bedroom. god awful lamp lighting the room dimly as the sun was beginning to set. steve was propped up on the floor, back against his mattress as he tossed a baseball up and caught it. over and over. he looked as bored as you felt.

you got up from the floor and decided to go digging through his bedroom. not entirely sure what you were looking for but there had to be something entertaining in here. you start with his desk, opening drawers and scoping out the insides.

“yeah, just go through my stuff,” steve says with a shrug, voice dripping in sarcasm, “that’s totally cool.”

“oh, wah,” you mock him, “i’m bored. there’s gotta be something interesting tucked away in here.”

steve throws you an annoyed look, “yeah and that’s why i’m playing catch with myself.”

you ignore him, continuing to file through his belongings. you manage through his desk, then his dresser drawers and nightstand. it’s when you drop to the floor and peek under his bed that you find something. a box. you pull it out and steve scrambles to slam his hand on top of it.

“alright, ha ha ha, you had your fun! stop going through my stuff,” he says, eyes wide and worried.

you scoff, lips curling up with the exhale, “oh, no, that reaction tells me i just found the jackpot. what’s in the box, steven?”

“none of your business,” he says sternly, moving to slide it back under the bed but you stop it, fingers hooking into the lid and steve lunges forward, almost crushing the box with his body as he looks up at you panicked. “i mean it, y/n.”

“now i really gotta see what’s in here,” you go to tug it away and steve bear hugs the box. “c’mon, steve, i know every single one of your secrets. this can’t be that bad.”

“it’s personal, something’s you don’t need to know,” he insists, lips dropping into a frown.

you pull again, resulting in the pair of you wrestling for the box. the motions knock it over, spilling the contents out on the rug. to no one’s shock, it’s porn. magazines and two tapes. but kind of surprisingly, there’s panties and uh, Polaroids of Nancy. Not explicit by any means. Just photos of her smiling.

“oh, Steve,” you grab one of the photos and hold it up to inspect, “Nancy made it in the spank bank? Ya know, these aren’t even dirty, you don’t have to like, hide them.”

“Please, for the love of God,” his face is as red as a fire truck, it’s kind of… cute, seeing Steve so embarrassed. He’s usually so calm and collected. The coolest dude you know. “Stop looking.”

“Why?” you giggle, “This is by far the most interesting thing in this room.”

Then you tilt your head as you see it. Oh. That’s why. There’s Polaroid of you. In a bikini. In the backyard, lounged by the pool. Steve scrambles for it but you’re able to snatch it first.

“Oh, my god,” you gasp, examining the photo carefully. You remember the day it was taken. Just this past summer. You’d gotten a new bikini, you were excited to wear it. Red. “Like Phoebe Cates,” Steve had said and you uh, surprisingly didn’t pick up on it. That Steve looked at you like that. Looking back, it makes sense, the way he ran in to get his camera. The fact he compared you to a celebrity he’d been Gaga over.

He’s completely silent as he watches you connect the dots. Steve is attracted to you. Steve jacks off to you. You’ve made it in the spank bank. This information is intoxicating. It’s a mutual attraction. Hell, you can’t even count the amount of times you’ve laid back and flicked the bean with your best friend, Steve Harrington, in mind. The day he sprouted chest hair and his body got a little more muscular, you’d been bombarded with an overwhelming attraction to the guy. You swallow hard, then your eyes drop as Steve’s hand moves to grab a pair of underwear that was also in the box. You drop the photo and grab his wrist, eyes meeting his and the absolute panic in his eyes is… weirdly arousing to you. Then you see the pair, eyes scanning over the white cotton and faded print of cherries decorating them.

“Are those my underwear, Steve?” you ask, glancing back up at him.

“No,” he lies, won’t meet your eyes as he stares down at them in his hand.

“Did you steal my underwear, Steve?”

“Why would I do that?” he replies, looking up at you finally, trying to look nonchalant.

You swallow hard, you should be furious but you’re… you’re not. You’re turned on. This absolute creep behavior, but coming from Steve, it’s so… sweet and vulnerable. Makes you look into those big brown eyes and want to kiss his face all over. But Steve seems to like the humiliation. And it’s making your body erupt in desire.

“Because you’re a pervert,” you tell him, watching as his pupils double in size and he inhales sharply. He swallows and you see his Adam’s apple bob with the motion.

“No, I’m not,” he says, voice quiet and breathy.

“Yes, you are,” you tug the underwear from his hands and look down at them, trying to remember the last time you’d worn them. You and Steve has countless sleepovers, your parents trusted him beyond belief and his parents were rather distant. There were so many opportunities to fool around but it never happened. Which now you think is a little surprising, considering there was that attraction and you’d shared beds as hormonal teens. Can’t believe you’re discovering it now as “adults”. But maybe that’s why you feel bold enough to push him on his back, crawling over to straddle his waist and you can feel his erection hidden underneath his jeans. You hold up the panties, “You smell these while you jerk off to me?”

It’s almost as if you’re not yourself, watching this unfold from a outside perspective. You haven’t even been this confident with boyfriends before but you know Steve, and you’ve been wanting more than a friendship for quite some time. Steve jerks off to you, it’s new information that makes this almost impossible not to act on. It inflates your ego, makes your heart swell twice in size. Because the implication, he knows you better than anyone else, clearly the attraction has to be more than purely physical.

He doesn’t reply, swallows hard again and just stares up at you. His big brown eyes look hazy, aroused and you can feel that he is where your ass is sat against his crotch. He can’t deny he’s turned on. And you wiggle against him, to silently tell him you are too. Fuck, he’s your best friend. How long as he felt this way? Because you’re sure you’ve been in love with him for years. And to find out this way? Not to mention that he seems to be reacting to you calling him a pervert.

You shove the panties up against his nose, “You totally do. You sniff these and stare at the picture while you jerk off! You’re such a perv, Steve!”

He writhes against you, moaning pathetically against the cotton.

“That’s disgusting,” you laugh, playing the part and he whines this time, closes his eyes and sniffs the panties. it’s so hot, and embarrassing at the same time. You’re almost at a loss for words but he seems to like when you make fun of him. “You’re so pathetic, oh my god.”

He opens his eyes, begging you silently. You inhale sharply before continuing. “Bet they don’t even smell like me anymore. I’ve been missing these for months,” you comment, shoving them against his nose once more before standing up. Steve watches you intently, frozen on the ground. You slide the pair of panties you’re currently wearing down your thighs, kicking them off and picking them up before you straddle Steve again. You can feel how soaked they are in your palm. So you shove them against his nose, giggling as you ask, “They used to smell like this?”

Steve’s eyes widen before they roll back as he inhales your scent, no doubt feeling how wet they are.

“You like that?” you laugh cruelly, “god, steve. i didn’t know you were such a sad, pathetic pervert.”

“fuck,” he moans, rolling his hips up at you and the rough denim catches against your clit, pulls a noise from you that has your eyes widening and your dominant demeanor faltering as you grind back down on him. Steve’s eyes meet yours and Christ, he looks pretty and desperate.

“You like me telling you what a perv you are, huh?” you ask.

“yeah,” he breathes out, hands closing into fists by his sides as he rolls his hips up again.

you gasp, trying to maintain composure as his jeans run against your clit again. you wonder if steve can feel how wet you are, if you’re soaking through his denim.

“such a pathetic loser,” you mutter, rubbing your soiled panties against his face, “so desperate for your best friend. wanna taste? go ahead, pervert, taste them.”

with your permission, steve opens his mouth and licks against your underwear. you shove them against him harder and he closes his lips around a bit of them, sucking your juices from the fabric. Moans when he does it, which makes you grind down harder against him.

“bet you’ve been dreaming about the real thing,” you breathe out, “huh, Stevie? you stroke your cock and imagine licking my pussy?”

“mhm,” he replies, still sucking on the cotton. his eyes are so wide and pretty as he stares up at you.

“such a loser,” you pout, tilting your head as you watch him. “think you deserve it?”

“please,” he begs, rolls his hips again.

“desperate for my pussy, aren’t you?” you ask but it’s funny, because you’re desperate for him.

Steve keens, jerks his hips up as his hands venture towards your hips before he drops them back at his sides. Like he’s nervous to touch you. You lean down, tossing your underwear aside as you hover your lips over his. Then you whisper, “Do you wanna eat me out, Steve?”

“Please don’t be fucking with me,” he replies, all soft and wrecked.

“That a yes?” you retort, licking your lips.

He nods, the motion makes his lips graze slightly against yours and it’s difficult not to kiss him. But your core is aching, just the idea of his gorgeous mouth on your heat has you a little feral and you rut down against him before inching up.

“Can I sit on your face, Stevie?” you ask, voice coming out more wrecked than you’d intended. Sounds weird on your ears. Didn’t know you could sound so sultry.

“Please,” he begs, writhing underneath you. “Fuck, please, pretty please sit on my face.”

You’re languid with the motion, pulling your skirt up as you climb up him and into position. He’s staring at your cunt, lips parted and pupils as wide as saucers. Licks his lips and you giggle, peering down at him as you begin to speak, “Look so desperate…”

He replies by wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you down on him. His mouth is warm and wet and determined. Steve elicits a moan as soon as he makes contact and it sends vibrations through your whole body. You gasp, holding your skirt up with your left hand while you push his hair off his forehead with the other. Steve is working his mouth on your cunt like he’s making out with it, tongue lashing and lips sucking all while he stares up at you and keeps moaning against your folds. You’ve had other men eat you out before but never like this. Never so determined, never seemed to be enjoying it so much.

There were rumors about Steve, you’d heard girls talk about this. You’d always feigned disgust. He was your best friend, you didn’t wanna hear about his bedroom skills. But deep down, you’d always wondered what he did differently. You haven’t ever had the urge to brag about the men you’d been with. They’d all been pretty mediocre.

The difference is Steve loves this. He’s hungry for it. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you firmly against his mouth and he’s… he’s moving his head with the motions. Groaning into you.

Your lips fall open, brows knitting together as your fingers tug at the roots of his hair. Staring down at your gorgeous best friend as he devours you. Then his hands move up, snaking under the hem of your shirt and he unclasps your bra in quick time, impressing you briefly before his hands move knead and grope at your breasts. With the grip on your thighs gone, you’re able to move your hips and they grind down on his face on their own volition. Fuck, you’re trying to keep quiet but it’s hard. His tongue flicks against your clit, flat and repetitive as his fingers swirl around your pebbled nipples. You whine, riding his face as you chase your high. The deep, tight coil in your stomach is threatening to snap at any second. You don’t think you’ve ever cum so fast in your life.

“God, you fucking pervert,” you whine, writhing against his mouth, “Feels so fucking good.”

Steve moans his appreciation, eyes rolling back slightly. He pinches your nipple and you’re a goner. Eyes squeezing shut as bright stars of light dance around behind your lids. Steve’s taking it well, sucking and licking up all that you give him. Doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him and rolling onto your back beside him. You’re breathing heavily and it quickly turns into pleasure fueled giggles. Then Steve’s reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers, squeezing.

“So, uh, now you know my biggest secret,” he breathes out, and you turn to see the sweetest smile on his face.

You smirk, “That you’re a sick pervert? I did know that already.”

He flushes, turning and shoving his face against your neck. You roll over to wrap your hand around his middle and squeeze him. Your mouth against his ear as you whisper, “I uh, also touch myself to you. Just like thoughts though, not uh, not pictures.”

“I get it,” he mumbles, “I’m a giant perv.”

“You are,” you giggle, “But I like it. Should’ve known it when I wore that bikini and you said it reminded you of phoebe cates.”

Steve laughs at that, “Yeah, you’re kind of oblivious.”

“Shut up, perv,” you reply, moving your hand lower and palming against his cock strained by his jeans, “Or I won’t help you get rid of this.”

“Oh, you wanna help?” Steve asks, the humor wavering as he rocks his hips up at your hand.

“Uh-huh,” you pull back just slightly, so you can look at his face while you unbutton his jeans. He helps you get them down his thighs, briefs following suit. You lick your palm before wrapping your fingers around his cock, glancing down and gasping. Fuck, he’s huge. Your eyes dart back up to his face and he’s smiling, all cocky. He knows it’s big. You’re sure he’s been told so a hundred times so you don’t say anything. You squeeze him while gazing into his beautiful brown eyes, you’d always loved how they sloped just slightly down. And they were so big and wide, so expressive. They are right now as you start to slowly stroke him. He blinks rapidly, licking his lips.

“Can’t believe you look at a photo of me while you jack off,” you mumble, “Seriously, Steve. It’s pretty pathetic.”

There go those expressive eyes, full of arousal— desperation. You don’t avert yours as you squeeze his base, slow and deliberate as you stroke up and swipe your thumb against his weeping tip. You raise an eyebrow, “You get this wet when you’re jerking off to me?”

He whines, bites his lip as his eyebrows furrow. Looks so sweet and needy. It’s the prettiest Steve’s ever looked.

“It’s pathetic because Stevie, you could’ve had me this whole time,” you mumble against his lips, fingers spreading his precum down his shaft and he’s really so wet, you can hear it as you stroke him up and down. Making sure to squeeze where it counts, base and head. Repeatedly. He whines against you. Bucks his hips because you’re going too slow. So you pull your hand away, “Ah-ah, you need to be a good boy for me, Steve.”

He whimpers, music to your ears, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good. Don’t stop, baby.”

The pet name warms you all over. Can’t help but grip his cock again, stroking him more deliberately this time. He whines, all high pitched and pretty against your lips. You give up the teasing, determined to get your best friend off. Curving your palm on every upstroke, whispering against his lips, “Cum for me, baby. Show me what a sick, little pervert you are.”

Steve groans, moves his hand up to cup your jaw as he bucks his hips again. But you let him. Let him fuck your fist. His mouth falls open in a silent moan as he coats your hand in his release, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so hot, you feel your own slick coating your thighs from it.

You let go of him, he rolls on his back and smiles as he sighs, eyes still closed. You clean his mess up with your skirt, a problem to deal with at another time. And for the first time in your friendship, you and Steve are absolutely speechless. Laying side by side. But he’s the one to break the silence.

“Should we like, make out now?” he asks, propping himself on his elbow as he looks down at you, “Ya know, so it’s not weird.”

“Yeah, cus that’s what would make this not weird,” you tell him but you hook a leg over his waist and straddle him, grabbing onto his face and kissing him stupid anyways.

[loveinhawkins]

i’ve recently become aware of this starcourt mall commercial & i’m dying at the thought of Eddie seeing it, bored out of his mind, until Steve appears on screen with that stupid sailor’s hat and the world’s most awkward, “Ahoy!”, and, oh, Eddie’s grin is evil.

“Why did you tape over Dallas?” Wayne asks that night.

“Wayne,” Eddie says solemnly, “I needed to record the best moment of my life.”

Of course, Steve finds the tape later, because the universe likes to laugh at Eddie, apparently.

Spring Break of ‘86 is a few weeks away—thanks to one distracted moment, Eddie unknowingly puts the wrong tape in the case before returning a rental to Family Video, then speeding off to band practice.

Steve doesn’t notice the mixup until a few hours later, when he routinely opens the VHS cases to check that the tapes have been rewound. When he sees the tape devoid of any movie sticker, he can’t resist watching it; his shift is dragging by.

He gets 20 minutes into Dallas before it cuts off, and the commercial plays.

His jaw drops, and he groans in embarrassment, but he’s laughing when he calls for Robin in the back room, and then they’re watching it together, cracking up. They both remember filming it, remember looking at each other and swearing to never speak of it again, but they’d never actually seen it, and well… it is pretty funny.

Steve gets an evil grin of his own when he sees that the rental account is in Eddie’s name.

When he calls, he gets Mr. Munson on the phone, and because Steve can also be a meddling little shit when the conditions are right, he makes up some story about the store having new forms, that he just needs Eddie to sign one quickly.

The next day, Eddie strolls in, and Steve looks him right in the eye.

“Ahoy, Munson,” he says, deadpan.

Eddie freezes in place. He briefly considers turning around and walking into traffic.

“Harrington,” he says stiffly.

“Hey, man,” Steve says, relentlessly chipper, “so we’re kinda down on one copy of—” He glances over to the computer. “—Life of Brian, and up one copy of, uh…” He lifts Eddie’s tape off the counter, smirks. “I guess, half of Dallas.”

Eddie stalks over. “It was… for school,” he blurts out unconvincingly. “Recording Hawkins history. Nothing personal, King Steve.”

Steve lets the venom in the nickname bounce off him. “Starcourt was pretty, uh, historic,” he says mildly, fighting another smirk.

“Whatever,” Eddie snaps, losing what little patience he has left—despite all of his performances to the contrary, the thought of people laughing at him still makes his skin crawl. “Let me get out of your massive hair, Harrington, and I’ll bring your fucking video back.”

Steve raises one hand, palm out. “Woah, chill,” he says, and as Eddie’s nostrils flare, he feels a little twinge of guilt; he didn’t actually mean for all of this to come across as mean-spirited or anything. “Sorry, man. I’m not trying to be a dick, I swear.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.” But he looks a little calmer, raises an eyebrow. Well?

“Here,” Steve says, handing over the tape, and he doesn’t react when Eddie snatches it back. “Oh, and I extended the rental on your movie.” He shrugs. “Saves you a double trip, y’know?”

“Thanks,” Eddie says, after a pause.

“No biggie.” And when Eddie makes to leave, Steve calls, “Hey, Munson?”

Eddie turns at the door, no longer quite as cagey. “What?”

Steve shrugs again. “Thanks for the mixup, I guess?”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie says flatly.

“No, I mean it, dude. Like, once I got over the, well, embarrassment of, um, everything, it was actually kinda… nice to see it.” He nods to Robin in one of the aisles, guiding a customer over to a movie. “Me and Robin, we—it was nice to have something about Starcourt that we could laugh at.”

Eddie considers him. “Were you in the fire?”

Steve smiles, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say there’s more than straightforward sadness on his face. “Yeah, got caught up in it.”

Eddie slowly, thoughtfully, opens the door but doesn’t leave, leans against it. He looks Steve up and down. “Damn shame you don’t have a hat in your get-up here, Harrington.”

Steve mock scowls, ruffles his hair. “I’m not suffering through that again.”

Eddie finds himself smiling without meaning to. “You poor thing. I guess once is enough.”

And Steve rolls his eyes this time. “Yeah, yeah, once. You’ve goddamn immortalised it, Munson.”

Eddie snorts. “Oh, but I had to,” he says, tucking the tape under his arm, “for posterity. In a hundred years, there’ll be sonnets written about your sailor outfit, Steve Harrington.”

And, whoops, that wasn’t planned, Eddie thinks. Laying it on a bit thick there.

Steve laughs, but not at him; Eddie can tell now. “Go enjoy your Saturday, Munson.”

Eddie gives a lazy salute. “Ahoy.”

And as Eddie leaves, he spots a note on the counter, next to the usual Be kind, rewind reminders. It’s handwritten, with a cartoony winking face: And check what’s inside!

[entertainment]

Sean Gunn

First thing you remember being a fan of: Buck Rogers and Battlestar Galactica

Posters on your wall growing up: I definitely had the Fonz at some point. I also had a poster for the Steve Martin movie, Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid. I always had to share rooms with my older brothers, so I would I would have to defer to their posters, really more than anything.

How you rebelled: I would do things with my hair a lot, like shaved the sides and the back of my hair and then leave the top long or or shave weird stuff into it. And I used to wear I used to wear purple every single day for some reason.

Your high school experience as a film title: Why So Angry?

High school experience credit song:

Student government platform: Free stuff. I think actually, honestly, though, my platform would be, "Hey, let's try to get along better with our rivals." And then I'd get food and stuff thrown at me because I didn't want to get into a fight with the school from across town.

Advice you'd write in your high school yearbook: Dude, chill out. Everything is going to be fine. Just. Just take it easy.

📸: Emeline Lotherington

Check out the rest of the NYCC Yearbook, if you want!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Headcanon: CC + Steve being very close & friendly. And NOBODY knows what to make of it????? Hjdjdjx bc steve is a normal dude chilling with a world renown metal band

“Can any of you tell us more about Steve? He seems to always be around.”

The guys all looked to Eddie as the interviewer smiled at them, the camera behind her focusing back on the band.

“Steve has been our biggest fan for a long time.”

There. That wasn’t suspicious.

“Not many fans get a chance to go on tour with the band. Or hang out with the band backstage or on the bus everyday. What makes Steve special?”

They’d talked about this before. Not long ago, in fact.

Steve gave him permission to say who he really was if they were asked. The guys agreed this was up to Eddie and Steve.

And something about the way this interviewer was asking made him feel defensive, made him want to explain that Steve wasn’t just a fan.

“Steve’s my partner, and he has been for nearly seven years. He’s more important than any fan, and the guys here love him like a brother at this point so he’s always welcome.”

The interviewer seemed shell shocked.

“Steve’s one of our best friends, and we couldn’t do this without him,” Jeff added before turning to check with Eddie that he’d said the right thing.

Eddie nodded at him before continuing.

“He keeps us in line. Makes sure we eat at least two regular meals a day as much as possible, makes us tea for after the show so we don’t get sore throats, keeps fans from being a bit too much.”

“Steve does all this?”

“And more.”

“And you all like having him around?”

“Yeah! He makes homemade soup when we’re sick and buys us new clothes when we try to keep torn up ones,” Gareth replied.

“He lets us dance with him during sound check even though nothing we perform is for dancing,” Jeff added.

“He’s honest about our music,” Grant supplied.

“And he loves me a whole lot. Wouldn’t be here with you him,” Eddie provided.

[bettysupremacy]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do steve Harrington x reader where Robin accidentally tells Steve that the reader has a crush on him? I love your writing 🫶🫶

this request made me realize I’ve been seriously neglecting Steve, I hope this satisfies enough

The days been seriously slow.

Rainy and cold, nobody wants to travel in the wet to get a movie. They do it the day before. It’d been busy. Customers in and out, in and out, buying their families copies of their favorite film. Steve’s sure he never sees as much business as he does the day the forecaster predicts rain.

“I kind of miss customers.” He now picks at the patterned carpet lazily.

Robin scoffs. “I don’t.”

“But like,” Steve breathes. “we’re so bored.”

“At least we’re getting paid.”

He shrugs. Good point.

She shuffles, dipping her hand down to tug on his shoe. He pulls back, faux kicking her. They smile at each other.

“Truth, what’re you doing after work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t drive around I’m busy.”

“Abandonment.”

“Stop!” Steve laughs, throwing carpet fuzz at her. “I’ve had this day booked for weeks.”

“Oooh,” She sips the slurpee she’d begged Steve to stop for before his shift obnoxiously. “do tell.”

“Y/n.” He murmurs.

The chill is seeping into his shirt sleeves, finding home over his skin briskly. Or maybe it’s embarrassment settling there. His eyes are heavy and he contemplates the reality of Robin letting him take a nap in the break room. She doesn’t look too trusting now.

“God, you guys are practically dating,” She complains. It’s not that she doesn’t like you, you’re her best friend. Just sometimes, she wants her other best friend to drive her around. “I’m sick of this. I introduced you!”

“We are not dating,” he laughs nervously. “you know that.”

“You practically are.” She shrugs. “Just ask her, I’m sure she’d say yes.”

“That’s not true.”

“She literally wouldn’t say no.” Robins annoyance bubbles out rather quickly. She didn’t sign up for abandonment and denial in one day.

Steve isn’t particularly perturbed by this, slumping over his knees dramatically. “What if.”

He murmurs it some more, quiet mantras of his unsurety.

“Dude stop.” She smacks his head. “I’ve known her for” She pretends to count on her fingers. “ever, if there’s one person she’d say yes to a date with, it’d be you.”

He peaks up from the solemn of his knees. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

Robin flinches, zipping her work friendly uniform jacket higher. “Just like,” she trails off. “you guys already know each other so well, I doubt she’d say no.”

He laughs a little. “You’re such a liar.”

“No i’m not!”

“And a bad one.” He giggles, attention undivided. “What do you know?”

“Literally nothing.” Robin moans. “We don’t even talk like that.”

“You’re so stupid!” Steve flicks her. “You’ve been friends ‘forever’.”

Robins palms soothe her eyelids. “She’s gonna kill me.”

This accidental defeat of admittance tingles in Steve’s fingers. Something he didn’t know he could feel until this confession of requited infatuation. Adrenaline pumps through his body, though he forces himself still for answers.

“Since when?”

“Awhile.” She understates for the sake of your pride.

“Wow.”

“Oh god,” She complains, almost whining. “Please don’t be stupid about this, she’s my only friend and I can’t-“

“I’m sitting right here, Rob.” He scoffs. “And I’m not going to be stupid about this.”

She peaks up, ashamed. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I mean shit,” he breathes. “I see her tonight.”

He checks his watch, standing up briskly to Robins horror. He cannot possibly be leaving her.

“What’re you doing?”

“I clock out two minutes ago.”

“No, no, no,” she whines, not making a move to get up. “do not leave me here alone.”

“I have places to be!”

“You’re abandoning me! Again!”

Steve walks straight into the break room, a new sense of pride bubbling in his chest. He’s gotta get his girl.

“Don’t be weird!”

[spicysix]

📖 + "I think... I'm in love with (Name)" || "Congrats on being the last one to find out" prompt w eddie omgomgomg💗 also congrats on 400 angel <33

thank you my loveee 💖💖💖

here comes, hope you like it! (a little dialogue heavy, sorry for that!)

join the celebration!

every day for us, something new

"Gonna make some more popcorn, guys! Get the next one ready," you said, getting up from the couch where you were sitting between Eddie and Argyle.

"Get me another coke, please!" Robin, from the floor, asked.

"Oh, get me another beer, sweetums, will 'ya?" Eddie joined in.

"No one else ask me anything, I don't have hands for more!" you exclaimed before leaving for the kitchen.

Movie nights were routine at this point. After all the trauma and the babysitting and the saving the world, the least you all deserved were some fun nights chilling with your friends. Steve or Nancy would host, you'd all take turns choosing movies for the week, and you'd get together to watch and gossip and just be around each other in non-threatening ways. There was no bond like the one created between life-or-death situations.

Eddie's eyes followed you as you walked out of Steve's living room. Jonathan chuckled.

"What?" Eddie asked and Nancy and Robin groaned in unison.

"You are. So. Dense," Nancy complained.

"I don't think he's dense, I think he's just stupid," Robin completed. Eddie hated how she and Nancy came to sharing a single braincell lately.

"C'mon, let's take it easy on our brochacho. The matters of the heart aren't easy," Argyle said, words all considerate but his smirk was nothing but teasing, and Eddie wanted them all to just shut the fuck up.

There was a loud noise from the kitchen, and Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

"Don't worry, I'm okay!" you called out before anyone could even say anything, to Eddie's relief, and he sat down again.

All of his friends were looking at him funny. What was this plot against him, honestly?

"What's going on?" he asked, waving his arms around in annoyance.

"Dude. Use a single neuron. You'll understand," Steve advised, letting out a dramatically exhausted sigh.

Eddie just stared back at them, one at a time, for several minutes. Trying to find the answers in one of his friends' eyes, or just hoping to be scary enough to make them tell him at once.

"I can't do this, he's the dumbest man alive," Jonathan said after a long while in silence.

What were you even doing in the kitchen for such a long time? Popcorn gets ready in like, five minutes.

"He's never been in love before, maybe he just doesn't recognize it," Steve pitched in, and he knew that information because Eddie had told him once.

What did it have to do with anything?

"What does being in love has anything to do with this? Who's in love here? No one's in lov-" he started, and then he stopped.

Thought about your smile, and that funny little laugh you saved only for his stupid jokes. The way you'd hug him tighter and longer than everyone else. The way you and Robin shared perfumes, a fragrance he didn't really like much, but on you he'd love - something about the way it'd interact with your natural skin smell, and it intoxicated him in the best of ways. He thought about how soft your skin was, and how he loved when you ran your fingers through his hair. He thought about how he thought about you first thing when he woke up, and he thought about you last thing before sleeping. How he thought about you even when asleep - how he'd dream of you, and him, your hands clasped together, your lips on his.

"Oh my god, I think I'm in love," he muttered.

"Congrats on being the last one to find out," Nancy answered. He just looked at her, freezing, hands trembling a little. "What are you thinking about so much, just go!" She nodded at the kitchen and, once again, Eddie was up on his feet in an instant.

He practically ran to the other room.

"Steve, your cabinets are a nightmare," you said, back turned to the door as you heard steps.

"Not Steve," he said, and you turned to face him. That smile, the one reserved just for him, on your lips.

"Eddie! Here to help me? Does anyone want something else?"

He just shook his head and walked closer to you. Took your hand on his, and your skin was just as soft as he thought about constantly.

"Is everything okay?" you asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, just came to a realization."

"Care to share with the class?" your words all teasing but your smile was nothing but sweet. He wanted to kiss you.

"I want to kiss you," he said out loud.

Your smile grew wider, "Well, do it, then."

And he did. And it was so much better than in his dreams. Yous lips were soft and tasted of whatever soda you were drinking, and your hands craddled his neck and you sure could feel his pulse going a million miles per second. But he didn't care, because you seemed eager for more, tongue poking at his lips and he let you in, and it was like fireworks exploding inside his head. He feelt fuzzy, and warm all over, and the happiest he's ever been. Because he's in love with you, he realized, and he was kissing you and you were kissing him back.

It felt like years before you separated, both panting a little.

"Oh, man, I like you so much," you mumbled, lips still almost pressed to his so he feelt every vibration in each of your words. It tingled him, head to toe, in and out.

"That's my realization," he responded, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again when you heard steps behind you.

"C'mon, slow lovebirds, where's my damn popcorn? I wanna watch the sequel!" Robin showed up, picked up the popcorn bowl and her coke before leaving again.

You and Eddie laughed, and you gave him another peck, and another one, and you were kissing him again.

Neither of you got to watch much of the sequel.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 18

part 1 | part 17 | ao3

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hate me I’m sorry, did it work? Don’t hate me. Did it work?”

“Dustin,” Steve barks. Dustin looks up, eyes bright; he's hugging Steve so hard it’s like he’s trying to fuse his face to Steve’s rib cage through his shirt. Steve scruffs him on the top of the head, rubbing his knuckles over his dumb baseball cap in a way he hopes is reassuring, and wheezes, “Can’t breathe, bud.” 

The kid takes a hesitant step back, fists still balled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt like he might run away. Mike’s cowering behind him, hunched in on himself and nervously eyeing up the nail bat.

“So you’re... not mad?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” Steve smiles sarcastically. “Hope you used that Butterscotch wisely, dude, because it’s the only one you’re getting for the rest of the year. Also, you can kiss your full candy bar trick-or-treating plans goodbye.”

“What? No!” Mike starts to whine, but immediately shuts his mouth when Steve glares at him. Then Eddie swoops in behind them, clapping a hand on both kids’ shoulders and nearly startling Mike out of his skin.

“And, uh, for obvious reasons,” he says in an acidic sing-song, “you’re both banned from Hellfire for the next month.”

“WHAT?” 

Oh, this guy’s good.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Mike pleads. “We’re just about to get to the manor’s secret passage!” 

“Yes, and what a shame that your paladin triggered a hidden trap and got stuck in a faulty portal for the next four sessions.” 

“Oh, my god! This is— this is—!” 

“Payback?” Eddie sneers.

Dustin’s eyes are darting rapid fire between the two of them, and he elbows Mike in the ribs and hisses, “Dude, shut up before he kills us both for good!” 

“Oh, my god,” Mike says again, face twisting through all five stages of grief. 

“Oh, also,” Steve adds for his own amusement as he heads toward the stairs, “you two can clean all this camping shit up.” 

—

“You play a good game of Punish the Pipsqueaks,” Steve grins, walking side by side with Eddie. "That D&D ban? Ouch. Keep that up and the moms will start recruiting you for babysitting duty."

“Oh, boy!” Eddie smirks. “My dream finally realized.”

They get back to their cars, and Steve shivers a little, the cold finally getting to him now that he doesn’t have the fight or flight to keep him warm. He unlocks the bimmer and slides into the front seat; cranks up the heat, his hands impatiently hovering in front of the vents. 

Eddie catches the car door. “You’re really not going to punish them more?" he asks, leaning in, head cocked to the side. "I mean, no trick-or-treating sucks and all, but. Seems a little lenient, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it does,” Steve agrees with a short laugh, “but see, the thing is, those two dumbasses are assuming that revenge is a dish best served cold, when actually?" He points at the house. "It’s a dish best served by Claudia Henderson.”

Eddie’s brows lift in question.

“I’m gonna call her tomorrow morning and say I caught them smoking at the bus stop.” 

“Jesus!" Eddie laughs. "That’s diabolical.” 

“And then I’m gonna suggest they do community service at the retirement home on Halloween instead of trick-or-treating, because Dustin’s weirdly afraid of old people.” 

Eddie's laugh turns to a cackle, all his teeth on display, and the car bounces on its wheels as he leans his weight against the door. “Oh, man," he exhales, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

“Pretty sure we’ve only ever been on each other’s bad sides.” Steve’s joking, but Eddie’s smile slips a little, and Steve wants to take it back. Pluck the words from the fog of chilled breath hanging between them; tell him that they're not anymore, that they don't have to be again.

But then Eddie catches the bass line coming from Steve’s speakers and the grin comes back full force. 

“Hold the fuck on," he beams, nodding his head to the beat and hum-mumbling the melody as the words come back to him.

Following the footsteps of a red dawn dance, we are entranced. 

“Spellbound,” he sings, shaking his head in delighted disbelief. “I’m sorry, does Steve Harrington have a Siouxsie tape in his car?”

Steve’s face goes red. Fucking Robin. “If you’re about to talk shit about the music, I— I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, man, I don’t—”

“Relax. It’s not that, I just…” He raps his knuckles against the roof. Gives Steve a once over; smiles softly at whatever he sees.

“What?” Steve asks. Kinda likes how he has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Nothing," Eddie murmurs, low and deep. "You’re just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Steve shivers again.

It seems to snap Eddie out of... whatever that was. “My bad, man,” he says, his voice back to normal volume. He apologizes for letting in the cold air and slips Steve’s jacket off, handing it back to him and shutting the door with a soft click, then he throws out a parting salute and skips off to his van.

Steve just sits there for a moment, feeling syrupy and dumb. Like there's whiskey in his chest, a full flask of it sloshing around behind his ribs.

His jacket smells like Eddie. Siouxsie croons in his good ear.

Spellbound, spellbound, oh-oh-oh.  

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he cuts the music off. He drives home in silence, the song still ringing in his ears.

—

part 19

first half of tag list below the cut comment if you want me to add you to the next one

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[strawberryspence]

I fucking love the idea that when Eddie and Steve start dating they both get shovel talks from multiple people.

Steve is nervous to get one from Wayne but then when it finally happens, Wayne is chill about the whole thing. He just tells Steve to take care of Eddie and to never hurt him. What Steve realizes is he should've been more nervous about Eddie's Hellfire friends. Gareth, Jeff and Paul (I named the unknown dude Paul) sit him down in a dark room with candles and it looks like an actual satanic cult. They go in heavy detail about how they would hurt him if this was all a joke and if he was only playing with Eddie. Steve also gets one from Dustin, but it's only a formality and Dustin promised him that Eddie got the same one.

Eddie did get the same talk from Dustin. It's all, "if you hurt my brother, I will ask El to open a portal to the Upside Down and I will kick you into it." Eddie actually found it endearing. Eddie expected getting one from Robin and thought that would be the worst. (It wasn't) But Robin was actually the nicest and just told him that if he did hurt Steve, none of them needed to do anything because that would be the biggest mistake he'll do and he'll never be able to forgive himself for it. Eddie also surprisingly gets one from Nancy. She just tells him to please take care of him and to not hurt him, not when she's got some new guns in her room. The actual worst shovel talk was with Erica. Eddie would shiver when he remembers what they talked about and won't ever tell anyone or Steve what they talked about.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Just A Kiss

Joining the congrats train for @withacapitalp, happy birthday Liam! You're not escaping the frog theme and cursed Steve, not on my watch.

"Look man, I don't really care if you're actually a prince, a model or a lying hobo, the answer is still no."

The frog looked at him with so much sass Eddie actually considered caving in, but...nah. It was disgusting. Even though it looked kind of cute with that weird pattern on its head that looked like a really fluffy mane of hair, light brown eyes and slight pout. "Like it's going to kill you, man," it croaked out and Eddie took another drag from his cigarette. Talking frogs. Yep, just another normal day in Hawkins.

"Look, even if I wanted to, which I don't - zoofilia isn't cool under any pretense, just for your info - I'm pretty sure I'm just high as a kite. You're a frog, which duh, you probably know that, but...uh. I don't want to wake up in the morning with the unsettling knowledge that I smooched some poor non-consenting animal and all I got from that was some rash on my mouth. Hey, can animals even consent? That's...no, you can't." One more drag of his cigarette. Maybe two. Make it another cigarette, shit. He didn't think that one joint was so strong.

The frog rolled his eyes again. "I'm not telling you to go and such face with a dolphin or something. Plus animals don't give consent because they a) can't talk, b) aren't cursed human beings. Like yours truly."

Eddie bit the filter in a futile attempt to sober up. Didn't help. "So you've said. Cursed human. Sorry if I don't believe you, froggy."

"It's Steve."

Eddie snorted out the smoke through his nose. "Steve. A frog named Steve."

There it was, that adorable eye roll again. "It's a temporary frog, otherwise full-time human Steve." It even tried to put its...paws? No, not paws, frogs don't have paws, legs? Front legs? Cute legs. Those, on its...hips? Eddie didn't know enough about frog anatomy but hell. It was adorable.

He giggled, brushing back his hair. "Sure, full-time human Steve. Is this a part-time job, then? A hobby?"

"A fucking curse, that's what it is." The frog almost growled, except it ended the annoyed tone with an unintentional ribbit. "Shit. Have you ever had hiccups? This - ribbit - oh god fuck why - ribbit - is worse."

Eddie just shook his head, wondering if he'd remember this trip the next day. He hoped so. "You'd think it would be natural to you." When the frog - sorry, Steve - just stared, he corrected himself. "For a frog, I mean. Which you're obviously not, except now you are-"

"Which part of a it-was-a-curse-from-an-old-hag-my-dad-pissed-off-a-few-decades-ago don't you understand? Ribbit, god make it stop-"

"Pretty much everything that wasn't a ribbit, pal," grinned Eddie and lit another cigarette. But it was a bit too quiet and when he turned to part-time-frog Steve, he wondered if maybe the trip was finally going away, if he'd just been chilling with an innocent frog for which his nerdy brain made a full page of lore, except- "What?" he asked the frog who was eyeing his smokes.

The frog groaned and tried to rub its still-not-sure-if-leg-or-paw over its forehead. "Look, if you're not willing to put me out of my misery either by - ribbit fuck this - stepping on me or giving me an absolutely consensual kiss, at least give me a cigarette. After the day I've had, I really need it."

"Uhhhh..." Eddie thought for a moment. Was it animal cruelty if he lit up a cigarette and put it next to a frog? The frog didn't have to smoke it, right? And he had no way of verifying if the frog was a minor. In...frog years or whatever.

The frog narrowed its eyes at him. "A kiss or a cigarette, dude. Choose now."

"Geez, so demanding for such a little guy," grumbled Eddie but obliged, lit another cigarette and handed it to the frog...the frog who grabbed it with both palms and took a long drag from it, closing its eyes.

"I really, really needed this," it muttered. Eddie wondered it being a frog would help him save on the smokes. It looked like its lungs were fairly small, one cigarette would last him for ages, but how would he buy them? So many questions...questions interrupted by Steve blowing a tiny puff of smoke from its - his? - mouth and looking at Eddie. "Don't you have better things to do than smoke with a temporary frog on a Friday evening?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "I liked you better when all you could say was ribbit. But actually no, I'm waiting for a few of my friends."

And wow, could that frog smirk. "Can't wait to meet them."

Eddie was still pretty convinced that kissing a frog was off the table. But when a familiar pizza van parked next to him, Jonathan and Argyle jumping out, he found himself reconsidering. Just a little. Because it would have saved him from the following conversation.

"How are you doing, my man?" smiled Argyle and pulled Eddie into a hug, cracking his spine in the process. Argyle's bear hugs tended to do that.

Jonathan just stood there, staring. "Is that frog smoking a cigarette?"

The world slowed down and Eddie was just about to explain that the weed was a bit too strong this time and he might have hallucinated that the frog was talking to him, but then it blew another cloud of smoke from its tiny mouth and glared at Jonathan. "You've got a problem with that?" it asked in a dangerous croak.

"Oh yeah," offered Eddie weakly, "guys, this is Steve. Steve, this is Jonathan and Argyle."

And Argyle, bless his perpetually stoned heart, just walked towards Steve and shook his front leg/paw/hand/whatever. "Cool, nice to meet you, dude! Hey, do you just smoke cigarettes or are you in for some Purple Palm Tree Delight?"

Full time Steve or whatever just gave a pleased ribbit. "I thought you'd never ask."

And that's how Eddie, Jonathan and Argyle ended up stoned out of their minds...along with a frog. The nights were warm and they ended up napping next to each other in a patch of grass next to the Lover's Lake, setting tiny stoned Steve to the side to make sure no one crushed him in their sleep. And Eddie, in his blissed out state of mind, really didn't look forward to the next morning. Froggy Steve was fun. He liked Steve. He didn't look forward to the moment he'd have to accept that Steve was just a shared hallucination between the three of them.

Except...

Except in the morning, he got woken up by someone cuddling him. And that wasn't unusual, Argyle was a cuddler, except he was wrapped around Jonathan like a very dependent octopus. Maybe it was the blanket. Yes, definitely, the blanket must have fallen off him and crumpled behind his back and-

And the blanket snored.

Flipping around, he found himself face to face with an absolutely gorgeous young man. The bitchy slope of his eyebrow, furrowed in sleep, the numerous moles...Eddie's breath hitched.

Before he realized what was happening, his eyes opened and the lazy smile he gave Eddie made him want to jump in the lake and swim to the other side and back. Just to cool down a little bit. "Morning, Eddie," he yawned and Eddie recognized that voice. With or without the ribbit.

"...Steve?" he tried, and the smile just widened. "Oh god, this is going to sound so weird, but I was really convinced that you were a frog when I met you yesterday."

Steve just stretched those biteable arms above his head and groaned, closing his eyes again. Only then did Eddie notice he was wearing his spare clothes, a bit too tight and mismatched, but it was all he had in the van. "I was a frog, man. Is your memory usually this bad?"

Eddie's mouth hung open. Oh okay. That explained everything. Except it fucking didn't. "Uhhhh...no. I mean. I remembered you being a frog so it's a good thing, no?" Squinting at Steve, he slowly added, "how come you're not a frog anymore?" It sounded stupid, even to him.

But Steve just rolled his eyes with clear affection. "It's what I told you when I met you. A kiss."

"Did I kiss a frog? I mean, you?!" he blurted out before he could catch himself, unsure which one of those two things shocked him more.

One more disapproving head shake. "Shit memory, told you. Nah, it was Argyle. We were high, I mentioned the curse thing and Argyle just said "anything for my bro" and kissed me. I turned back and you...uh. Kind of freaked out because I didn't have any clothes on, so you raced back to your van to get me something. Then we smoked a bit more and went to sleep."

"Oh." Maybe the weed really was stronger than usual because Eddie's mouth had no filter that morning, even more so than usual. "Is it weird that I'm kind of jealous of him?"

Steve opened one eye and smirked at him. "What, you dream of kissing frogs often?"

Eddie hit his shoulder and laughed, mindful of the sleeping pair next to him. "Nope, but sure will dream of kissing you, pretty boy. Unless that would turn you back. Would it?"

There were hands on his hips pulling him down, back to the inviting grass and towards Steve's warm body. "Only one way to find out," he grinned.

[ddejavvu]

Slumber Party - Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson | part I | part II | part III | part IV

WC: 4.2K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Following Steve's hairbrained scheme, he and Eddie get you to crash at the Harrington House for a slumber party, changing your relationship forever

Contents/Warnings: reader wears steve's shirt and eddie's jacket, confessions, requited love, fluff, cheeky eddie and steve, lots of teasing

A/N: if you're under 18, this is the last part of this series! if you're over 18, there will be one more, pretty much completely smut, that takes place just after this :) you can expect that sometime soon!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

The trash bag in your hand rustles as you shake air into it. There’s a surprising amount of garbage to clean up after a friends-only pool party, but you suspect some has been there for longer than just tonight.

Like the crushed, stained red solo cup that peeks out from underneath one corner of Steve’s couch. 

It crunches under your fingers and you realize it’s sticky, your face scrunching into a grimace, “Steve, when’s the last time you cleaned in here?”

He looks over from where he’s scraping half-dried pizza cheese off of a couch cushion, “Jesus, I think that’s from freshman year.”

“Not even my place is that bad,” Eddie brags, though it hardly works as one.

“I found a chocolate bar cemented into the floor under your bed,” Steve stands tall, an eyebrow raised accusingly at Eddie, “We both have our problems.”

You snicker at their lighthearted banter, “Gross, guys.”

Then they’re whirling on you, and you wish you’d kept your mouth shut.

“Oh,” Eddie gushes, a hand over his heart in a dramatic display, “You never leave empty milkshake cups in my van. You’re soooo clean!”

“Dude,” Steve lets out an incredulous laugh, punching Eddie theatrically in the shoulder, “She leaves ‘em in my car too! I swear there’s like twelve in the backseat, and she doesn’t even sit there.”

“Guys!” You flush, shoulders slouching as they tease you, “You’re both so mean.”

You don’t expect either of the things that happen next. You don’t expect them to share a glance, meaningful in the slight nod that they offer to each other and the raise of their eyebrows. And you definitely don’t expect them to start forward, rushing around you for a tight group hug.

“We’re sorry, honey.” Steve croons, his slightly toned arms winding tight around your waist from behind, his voice soft and sympathetic, “We’re just teasing.”

Eddie’s ringed fingers come to rest on your cheeks, tugging your face inches from his own as he kisses the soft skin of your forehead. 

“You can leave allll the trash y’want in the van as long as you keep gettin’ in it, baby.” Eddie promises, his voice a hair raspy 

Your head is spinning. Your knees threaten to give out, and you swear that Steve’s hands pull your hips back dangerously close to his clothed cock on purpose. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted all at once, which means that you can’t process any of it at all.

Eddie’s lips linger against your forehead, which means that your view is his neck. There’s a smear of what you think is food coloring from the cookies that you made earlier, staining a spot just below his Adam’s apple. What you don’t see with this view is the glance that Steve and Eddie shoot each other over your head, sly smirks on the both of their faces as you grew more and more flushed under their touch.

“Our little baby,” Eddie glances down, cooing sweetly at you, as his lips hover inches away from your own,  “Can’t tease you at all, huh?”

“‘Gets you all uptight…” Steve adds, his voice husky over your shoulder while his hands squeeze at your hips, “You’ve gotta learn to loosen up, honey.”

That does it.

Your knees go weak, and you pull away from them. You slip out from their grasps, the chill that ran up your spine the moment they embraced you now spreading throughout your whole being as your skin hit the air.

“I- I’m gonna go take out the trash,” You hold up the barely-filled trash bag in your hand, brandishing it at them as a half-assed explanation, “Bye!”

How are you supposed to go back in there? Steve had practically dry humped you, Eddie was inches away from kissing you. They’d called you their baby, told you to loosen up. It felt like the beginning of a porno, and yet frustration strikes you as you remind yourself it meant nothing at all.

Steve is the natural boyfriend type. He’s all lovesick smiles, acts of service, and gentle touches. Eddie is outgoing, chock-full of affection that he expresses in less-than-conventional ways. You’re no stranger to cheek kisses from the pair, to late nights in their beds with their shirts on your back, to hands-on-thighs that drift higher than they should.

Steve is the natural boyfriend type. He’s all lovesick smiles, acts of service, and gentle touches. Eddie is outgoing, chock-full of affection that he expresses in less-than-conventional ways. You’re no stranger to cheek kisses from the pair, to late nights in their beds with their shirts on your back, to hands-on-thighs that drift higher than they should.

But god, how much more of this are you able to take? How many more nights can you spend in their beds, tucked into their chests like a real couple? How many more times can Steve’s fingers brush your inner thigh, or Eddie’s hand drift down south during a hug before it’s too much? Before you actually start believing it, before it’s more than just a friendship to you?

Not much more, that’s for sure. Your heart pounds in your chest as you recall their hands on you, and you make your decision. You need to leave, now, before you give yourself away.

--

“Mission accomplished.” Steve’s grin grows lazily over his face, his hands hanging off of his hips, “She almost fell over.”

“I would’a felt bad,” Eddie admits, remembering the heat radiating off of your cheeks as he cupped them, “I just can’t believe she tricked us for so long.”

“I.. I guess it was hard for her, or something.” Steve’s voice loses some of its cocky luster, “She really fought hard to keep it a secret.”

“Yeah,” Is all that Eddie can murmur as you slip back through the sliding door. The two boys turn to you expectantly, confident grins on their faces that they try to mask as casual.

“Soooo,” Eddie draws out the word, “Harrington and I were thinking it would be kinda fun to have a movie night. You in, sweetheart?”

Steve doesn’t bother letting you answer before he lays it on thicker, “No one made that popcorn we bought for today, so we can have it now, and I’ve still got tapes from the last sleepover we had.”

They wait expectantly, self-assuredness practically oozing from them. But you gnaw the inside of your cheek while they talk, shrinking in on yourself slightly when the offer is proposed.

“Actually, no. Not tonight, guys, I..” You pause, mouth open but devoid of words. You rub a tired hand down your face, “I’m sorry. Just.. not tonight.”

Their faces drop.

For a harrowing moment, they believe they have it wrong. That your blushing was out of embarrassment, not out of longing. That your tensing was because of discomfort and not anticipation. That maybe, just maybe, you don’t like them at all.

“Why not?” Steve gets himself together first, his voice now cautious and soft.

“I don’t feel like it.” You mumble, but both know you’re lying.

“Is there something wrong, Y/N?” Eddie feels strange not using a pet name, but with the guarded look in your eyes, he’s not sure it’s a good idea to go with baby.

“I’m tired from swimming,” You weakly attempt to fool them, but you realize now that the closeness you’re trying to evade is the reason you can’t. They know you inside and out, and you can’t lie to them.

“Me too,” Eddie snickers, “We’ll just crash here tonight.”

“It’ll be a sleepover,” Steve adds, one eyebrow raised hopefully at you, “You sleep here all the time, honey. C’mon, please?”

You need to say no. You need to politely decline, excuse yourself, go home, and face-plant into your pillow. You need to scream, you need to kick your feet, you need to giggle, you need to squeal, you need to call your friends while laying on your stomach on the bed. You need to twirl the cord of the phone around your finger while your legs bounce back and forth in the air behind you. You need to freak out.

“We can watch Grease,” Steve presents his final offer, the one he knows you won’t be able to say no to, holding the vhs up tantalizingly before you.

You take a moment of silence for the willpower you’ve just lost, mourning the end of your sanity and the victory of your delusions, “Okay, I’ll stay.”

The grins on their faces lit up the dark little spot in your brain. The one that told you you aren’t good enough for either of them, let alone both like you fantasize about. 

Eddie shoots towards you like a rocket, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tackles you back onto the couch. It rips an incredulous laugh from your throat, one that warms Eddie’s chest and prompts him to kiss your forehead.

“Knew you’d come around, pretty girl,” He coos at you, pinning you to the sofa cushions. His words reignite that flutter in your belly, as does the chill of his jewelry on your bare skin.

“Jesus Eddie,” Steve gripes, his face popping into your view as Eddie hovers over you, “Don’t crush her before the movie even starts.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, an expression that leaves you giggling, and pushes himself up off of you.

“What I’m hearing, Harrington, is that I can crush her after the movie starts.” It seems like both a threat and a promise, and Steve scoffs at Eddie’s cheeky grin.

“Y/N,” Steve peers around Eddie who’s still crowding you against the couch, “You need a change of clothes?”

You glance down at your coverup, the sheer fabric revealing your still-damp bathing suit beneath. 

“Yes please,” You really don’t know if you can handle one of Steve’s hoodies that you normally take, nor do you think you’ll be able to slip into a pair of his boxers without losing your mind. Apparently Steve doesn’t have that in mind, though, because he reaches for the hem of his own shirt, yanking it off of his head without a second thought.

His chest is exposed, bare and smattered with hair. The air escapes your lungs and you suck more in, your strangled gasp catching both boys’ attention.

“You okay?” Steve holds the shirt out to you, his chest bared, “You look like you’re about to collapse.”

You are about to collapse. You swear that the shirt hanging limply from Steve’s hand has some sort of forcefield around it; an aura. It makes your knees buckle and Steve has to throw it over your shoulder for it to be in your possession.

You see Eddie opening his mouth, no doubt about to put the pieces together of your little crush, one of them at least, so you scurry off, the shirt nearly falling from your shoulder as you do.

“I’m gonna go change!” It comes out squeaky, higher-pitched than you want it too, but you’re too overwhelmed to care. You rush to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you so hard it nearly breaks the hinges.

--

“Shit,” Eddie snickers incredulously as the bathroom door shuts behind you, “Good thinking, man. Y’had her frozen.”

“I didn’t think she’d take it,” Steve admits sheepishly, cupping the back of his neck and letting his clean-cut fingernails dig into the skin there, “‘Thought maybe it was going too far.”

“This is going too far,” Eddie urges, plopping down onto the couch with an unceremonious thump, “That’s the point. She’s not gonna do shit on her own, so we gotta-”

“Do you have any pants I could borrow?”

Both men turn to the bathroom with wide eyes, catching your head stuck out of the doorway. The rest of your body is shielded by the door, and each man mourns their own loss of the visual.

“Uh, no clean pairs.” Steve bluffs, scratching his nails over his chest, itching at nothing in particular to draw your eyes to the action, “Sorry, haven’t done laundry in forever.”

“It’s fine.” You come out of the bathroom now, offering him a sweet smile so that he knows you’re not mad at him, “‘S just a little short, that’s all.”

You’re right. When you step out of the bathroom, the shirt shifts over your legs with every step you take. It rides up your thighs, exposing bare skin that neither Steve nor Eddie ever dreamed they’d see of you. Eddie’s the one who pulls out of his trance first, hovering a hand over his waist.

“If you really want me to, I can pull a Harrington and slip outta my boxers. That’s what you normally wear at mine.” He grins cheekily at you, his thumb hooked into the hem of his pants, “Sound good?”

“No!” You shriek indignantly, giggling at the image, “Then you’d be pantsless!”

“And would that really be terrible?” He groans, tipping his head back against the sofa cushions and displaying his throat. The skin stretches thin over his adam’s apple and your eyes trace the bulge in his throat as it bobs, “I think we’d all enjoy that.”

“Speak for yourself,” Steve grumbles, chucking the VHS case for Grease at him, “If your dick ever touches my couch you’re buying me a new one.”

“Oh please,” Eddie starts, fiery and revved up, “Like you wouldn’t be-”

“Guys!” You throw up your hands, looking between the two of them with mock annoyance, “Shut up, the movie’s gonna play!”

And it does. Grainy footage springs to life over the VCR, displaying the opening sequence of Grease that you eagerly paid attention to. You tugged Steve down beside you, sinking into the cushions near Eddie. The latter wriggled closer to you, matching Steve’s distance, which was to say there was no distance between any of you anymore.

Eddie’s thigh presses flat against your bare one, the joggers that he’d used after getting out of the pool baggy and loose against his leg. Steve’s got jeans on, the rough denim flush to your other thigh, as the two sneak their arms around your shoulders.

“Smooth,” You tease them, and Steve even throws you a fake yawn, the classic first date move. You can’t deny the butterflies that stampede through your stomach at the playful flirting, and you wriggle into your seat, getting comfy between them.

One of your hands rests on Steve’s upper thigh, your fingers curled into the loose denim as you watch. Eddie’s head rests on your shoulder, his hair tickling your face as he makes cracks here and there about the film. Both are fun to watch movies with. Eddie jokes the whole time, picking apart terrible production choices and whistling whenever someone looks good on screen. But Steve watches, laughing when he should and biting back a smile when he shouldn’t.

You can’t help but feel, sandwiched between your two best friends, unfortunate crushes brewing for both of them, that this is only the beginning, your beginning. It’s a concept that tugs at your heartstrings, that ignites hope in your chest, because maybe if they’re holding you like this, maybe if they’re loving you like this, they could do it like you want them to. They could hold you more, differently. They could love you more, differently. Everything you have is perfect, and somehow you’re still wanting more, something different. 

You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to get enough of either of the boys beside you. Steve, all soft smiles and sarcastic insults, and Eddie, lively and playful. Each one brings something new to your life, something invigorating that seeps into your brain and gets you hooked like an addict. You’re absolutely certain that your life would never be the same without them, which is what makes you so hesitant to confess. 

But here, snuggled up to the both of them with Grease playing on the Harrington’s television in the low light of the living room, you feel safe. You don’t need to confess, you don’t need to pull away to keep yourself safe, you don't need to do anything at all. All you can do is enjoy this, enjoy them.

You hope they feel the same way. You’re always quick to doubt yourself, write off flirty banter as a joke, or assume they’re like that with everyone. But they’re not, you're special and you know it. It’s a fantastic feeling, being special, even more fantastic when you’re special to those that you find special. You decide you quite like the feeling, burrowing back into their embraces to soak in it some more.

“‘Gonna lose you in the couch if you keep that up,” Eddie quips, “Must be pretty cozy.”

“I am,” You admit without hesitation. Perhaps its the exhaustion from swimming, or the haziness seeping into your brain from their warm embraces, but you don’t feel much like hiding anymore, “‘Love you guys.”

Eddie freezes against your shoulder, and Steve tenses. All at once it comes crashing down, their miniscule reactions clearing away your giddiness and confidence in a split second.

You stay silent, your eyes locked onto the screen, your cheeks burning. It’s not the first time you’ve said it to either of them, but it’s the first time you’ve said it now, wrapped up intimately in their embraces. It’s different, and everyone knows it.

“Yeah?” Steve prompts you, “We love you too, honey.”

“Lots.” Eddie adds, shifting his face so that it’s buried in your neck instead of facing the television, “Probably a little too much.”

He punctuates his sentence with a smattering of soft kisses to the soft skin of your neck, ones that run a shiver up your spine. 

“Eddie,” You breathe, and he stops hesitantly.

“You want me to stop?”

Everything in you screams no, but you say yes.

You shift away from him, consequently into Steve, and turn to face him. He looks timid, anxiety brewing in his pretty brown eyes.

“What are we?”

It’s a vague question, but it’s thick with meaning. Steve contemplates how to answer, not sure if he wants to lead in with a joke (‘teenagers’), or blurt out his feelings, (‘soulmates’). Eddie does it for him.

“You want us to be together,” Eddie’s voice is soft and meek, nearly scared, “Right?”

“Together…?”

“Together,” Steve finally finds his voice, strong and low in his chest, “Like, for real, Y/N. We know.”

They know. They know. They know.

It runs rampant in your head, a mantra of your humiliation as you sit frozen between them. You’d rather be literally anywhere else, the upside down for fuck’s sake. 

“We want it too.” Eddie promises, tentatively reaching out a hand to rest it in your lap, “Shit, I- I thought I was gonna decapitate this Chili guy for getting too close to you.”

“Pineapple was on my shit list.” Steve admits, “Can’t believe it was Munson.”

“Oh, likewise.” Eddie cranes his neck to peer around your head at Steve, “I mean, red hot? I guess in those stupid little scoops shorts…”

“Eddie,” Steve glares sharply at the boy, reaching around the back of your head to smack Eddie upside his, “Focus.”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Eddie grins at you, mirth in his eyes, “But that’s.. That’s what you want, right sweetheart?”

You look at them. You look at Eddie, doe eyes wide and hopeful, hands braced eagerly on your thigh. You look at Steve, uncertainty clouding his gaze, his arm tightening its grip on your shoulders. You look at them, lucky in love, and nod.

“I do, I- I really really want this.”

The admission clears a weight off of your shoulders that’s been there for years, leaving you lighter than air. Your smile grows effortlessly, a soft giggle escaping your mouth as they both surge forwards.

They knock heads, their expressions scrunching from grins to grimaces, and you take each of them by the jaw.

You press a kiss to the side of Steve’s head, where it had run into Eddie’s, then one to his lips. He’s clearly shocked by the gesture, because his eyes widen and he can’t seem to shut them for the entirety of the kiss. You pull back, another giggle escaping you at his incredulous expression.

“Fuck,” He breathes, “I didn’t- I didn’t think you would do that.”

“Well now you’d better do it to me,” Eddie wastes no time in baring his head, tucking his chin to his chest to give you better access to his life-threatening injury, “Kiss!”

You comply as butterflies ravage your tummy, flitting this way and that, their pretty wings brushing the walls of your stomach. You swear there must be thousands as you pop a kiss to Eddie’s messy hair, then let him tug your face to hover in front of his. He practically lunges for you, lips tasting like popcorn you’re sure he snuck while you were in the bathroom. 

He’s not as polite as you were with Steve, going back for more each time you think of pulling away. Finally you have to murmur at him, your words muffled by the kiss, “Eddie… Eddie? Eddie!”

“Jesus,” Steve yanks Eddie away by the collar of his shirt, a blush still redenning his cheeks from when you’d kissed him, “Let her breathe, dude.”

Then he seems to realize his loss, scrunching his face up, “His was longer than mine.”

“You went first!” Eddie insists adamantly.

“Not the same,” Steve is the one to pull you in this time, fitting his lips perfectly against your own. As if two kisses hadn’t been enough to turn your stomach inside out, the third had you melting, your hands falling from each of their jaws.

Steve’s just barely pulling away when you feel Eddie’s lips on your cheek, turning to face him and bumping noses. He takes the opportunity to peck your lips once more, and you realize you’re about to be smothered if you don’t take action now.

“Okay,” You giggle giddily, wriggling out from where you’ve sunk into their embrace, “Okay, so, we’re together now?”

“Yes,” Steve nods, his teeth on display as he grins, “That feels nice to hear.”

Eddie nods vigorously, “Even better when you consider we’re alone here for the weekend.”

“Eddie,” You chide, swatting bashfully at him, “So pervy!”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie laughs incredulously, “I mean, it’s not a bad idea!”

“It’s not,” You sigh resentfully, wishing you had the willpower to deny him, “But I wanna finish the movie first!”

“Okay!” Eddie mimics the pattern of your voice, pinching you teasingly in the side, “I can already tell it’s gonna be hard saying no to you.”

“He already doesn’t say no to me.” You gesture to Steve, then press an apologetic kiss to his rosy cheek when he grumbles about it, “Lets me get away with whatever I want, huh Steve?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gripes, “It’s not my fault you’re too cute to say no to.”

His sappy admission makes you squeal, and it puts a smile on Steve’s face. You catapult onto his chest from across the couch, snuggling your head into his neck while your legs wind around his waist, “You’re so good to me, Steve.”

“‘Course I am,” He puffs up proudly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t?”

Boyfriend. The word, although foreign, feels familiar, something you’ve known for all of your time with him. It describes Eddie perfectly too, who’s scooting across the couch to kiss your nose as your cheek presses against Steve’s chest.

“Alright you two,” Eddie groans, but smiles sweetly at the both of you, a harmless tease, “Let’s actually finish the movie? You can hold her for now, Steve, but I swear to god the second we put another tape in, she’s mine.”

“You’re gonna have to take her from me,” Steve threatens, his arms tightening around your waist as you play along, clinging to him, “I’ve waited for too long not to enjoy this.”

“You can enjoy it until Grease is done.” Eddie warns again, narrowing his eyes at you when you stick your tongue out teasingly at him, “Then you can be the sad, lonely one.”

The words ‘sad’ and ‘lonely’ tug your brows down, and you crane up off of Steve’s chest to pucker your lips at Eddie. He surges forward with a bright smile, kissing you sweetly this time letting you go within a reasonable time.

“Sweet girl,” Eddie coos at you, watching as you snuggle yourself back into Steve’s nack. He leans down himself, bracing his back against the cushions behind him as he tentatively rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, just beside your own, “Are you even watching the movie?”

You can’t see it anymore, now facing away from the tv. But you are facing Eddie, and that’s more than enough to keep you occupied. Steve’s hand brushes slowly, soothingly over your back and your lashes flutter dreamily, Eddie’s grin inches from your own.

“No,” You shake your head slightly, the movement burrowing you further into Steve, “I’d much rather watch you.”

Steve lets out a teasing scoff at your cheesiness, pinching you lightly in the side, “You’re a sap.”

“Shut it, Harrington.” You take on Eddie’s nickname for the man, pushing yourself up onto his chest to glower threateningly at him, “Don’t make me cut your turn short.”

“I’m sorry!” Steve dramatically apologizes, clutching you tight, “I’m sorry, don’t go, I love you.”

The familiar phrase warms your heart, and you settle back onto his chest with a content sigh.

“I love you too,” You respond to Steve while looking at Eddie, both men feeling the overwhelming affection oozing off of you, “More than anything.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[steddiecameraroll]

Steve’s pov to this post now both POVs on ao3

Steve sighs and lowers his head in shame as the group of old classmates leave the shop. Softly plunking his forehead against the counter in defeat. His uniformed hat slips from his head onto the counter. If Robin had been working she would’ve added more than one tally onto the board after that pitiful display.

“Buck up, sailor boy.”

Steve jolts up to find Eddie Munson nimbly twirling his hat around his index finger.

“Munson, what are you…that’s my hat.” Steve swipes the hat swiftly from Eddie’s hand, feeling unnerved under the man’s silly smile.

When he straightens himself up he sees Eddie take in the entire ridiculous get up with an amused gaze.

“Love the outfit, by the way. Really finishes off the whole ambiance.” He motions around them to punctuate his point.

“I know it’s ridiculous, dude. You don’t have to rub it in.”

Steve’s heard every pirate pun in human existence since he started this shitty minimum wage job.

“Oh no, you misconstrue, my good man.”

Misconstrue?

As Eddie continues, he flattens his palms onto the countertop and leans into Steve’s space. The seemingly simple movement causes a weird sensation in Steve’s stomach that he tries to ignore.

“If I’m rubbing anything, it wouldn’t be your uniform.”

Steve’s palms are suddenly sweaty because what the fuck does that mean? He thinks his cheeks feel warmer than they did a moment ago too, and he’s grateful when Eddie moves away to begin looking through the display case.

He takes a steadying breath then from behind the counter, steps in beat with Eddie’s movements.

As the curly haired man drags his finger across the glass he asks, “what do you recommend?”

Steve realizes he might get out of this interaction unscathed if he can get through the next couple of minutes. So he sucks it up and dons his most charming smile.

“Um, the USS Butterscotch is a favorite or the cherry’s jubilee.” He watches Eddie carefully scrutinize each and every flavor of ice cream before standing up and directing his attention back on Steve. “What do you usually get when you eat ice cream?”

The corner of Eddie’s lip ticks up and then he leans in.

“Wanna know a secret?” The man whispers.

And Steve does, he really does. “Um, ok,” he replies shakily.

He steps closer ensuring he doesn’t miss Eddie’s next words, and braces himself because it feels like something he should do.

“I’m more of a salty treat, kinda man.” Then Eddie winks implying some kind of hidden meaning.

Steve doesn’t get it.

But he doesn’t want to admit to that fact. So he tries to hide it with an uncertain chuckle, and an awkward scratch to the back of his neck. He prays Eddie doesn’t spring some kind of pop quiz on him, catching him in the ruse.

“Well, then maybe-um-a parfait? Peanut butter?” A lightbulb goes off in his head and he smiles bright. “Or nuts…something with nuts?”

Eddie snorts and bites back a smile, catching Steve’s eye. How has he never noticed how defined Eddie’s cupids bow is?

The words that just tumbled out of Steve’s mouth finally hit his brain, and he wants to jump through a window. Because it’s fine, he’s only a complete idiot.

The last five minutes with this man have thrown Steve off his game.

What is happening? Chill out.

He shakes his head and grabs an errant cleaning rag trying to busy himself. Maybe if he keeps his eyes off the super senior, he’ll stop putting his foot in his mouth.

And maybe he’ll stop noticing how oddly attractive Eddie’s mouth is.

“I could go for some nuts,” Eddie’s voice pitches low and Steve’s knees almost buckle.

An image flashes in Steve’s mind of Eddie looking up at him from below and it makes his mouth go dry.

“What kind of nuts do you have, Stevie?” Eddie asks while leaning over, drawing Steve’s eyes to the taut bicep muscle suddenly appearing under his shirt sleeve.

How in the world is he not supposed to hear the sexual innuendo in that question? He swallows hard and pushes through, trying to pretend he’s not chubbing up in his stupid polyester shorts.

“Um, just -y’know- normal ones.” He can’t help himself and continues. “What kind do you like?”

He licks his lips, holding his breath, waiting to see if Eddie will continue the banter.

Steve feels like his skin is burning. He can’t remember the last time someone so blatantly flirted with him. Let alone a man. A sexy man, he’s realizing, but a man nonetheless.

There’s not enough time for him to question why he’s enjoying Eddie’s eyes on him. He feels like prey of some kind and fuck does it feel good.

He wonders if the rumors he’s heard about Eddie are true. If Steve pulled the man behind the counter would he really like Steve’s nuts?

When Eddie responds, his voice is lower and it sends a shiver up Steve’s spine.

“I’m sure I’d like anything you give me, captain.”

Steve can’t control the shuttering reply that slips from his mouth.

“Jesus,” he sighs. “Uh, how about our peanut butter brickle topped with our candied almonds?”

That chubbing from earlier is becoming an annoying problem. So Steve nervously pulls his scooper from its holster and starts mindlessly spinning it.

He’s trying so hard to not think about Eddie’s tongue.

“Sounds delicious. I’ll have one of those. Is there a show or anything I get with my treat?”

“A show?”

Like a strip tease?

Steve grabs a parfait cup, grateful to busy his hands with the order.

“Was just curious if there’s some kind of song or dance you have to perform in this adorable little outfit. Y’know, like that one restaurant in Chicago, Ed Debevic’s?”

Steve scrunches his nose in confusion while sliding open the display case.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Really?” Eddie cocks his head. “It’s a 50’s diner place where the staff are dicks. Nothing? Really?”

Eddie’s face looks so earnestly surprised Steve wishes he had known the place. He shakes his head though, while reaching into the giant tub of swirly looking ice cream.

Steve can see Eddie in his peripheral, dip down to watch. Customers are always watching when Steve scoops but this customer makes Steve want to show off a little.

“Is there a shower back there?”

“What?” The question comes out of left field.

“In the back. Was just curious if you go home sticky or not.”

The timber of Eddie’s voice makes it sound like he’d prefer Steve to be sticky. Would he want to lick Steve clean? The flash of Eddie’s tongue fills Steve’s mind for the millionth time in the last 5 minutes.

“Um, no… I mean yes I’m generally pretty sticky at the end of my shift, but there’s no shower…in the back.” But he wishes there was. “There’s not really anything back there. Only a table and some safety posters, a white board that Robin shames me with.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow. “Shames you? Robin…?”

“Buckley?” He’s sure Eddie knows Robin. Doesn’t he play an instrument? “From school.”

“Yeaaahhh, that’s what I thought. Good for her.” He says with a smirk.

Steve pours a sprinkling of candy coated almonds over the ice cream with a furrowed brow. The snarky comment is a perfect distraction from the uncomfortable tightness that has been growing in his shorts.

Steve almost forgot the whole point of this interaction was to get Eddie out of here quickly. Not to fantasize about how warm and wet those pouty lips would feel.

“Anything else I can get for you?” He asks while trying to hide his nervousness behind a smile.

He sets the concoction down on the counter and holds his breath.

A slow yet wicked grin spreads across Eddie’s face causing a knot to develop in Steve’s stomach. That grin looks dangerous.

“Naw, I’m good. Unless…” He pauses a beat before continuing. “There’s something available that’s not on the menu.”

And then the man has the audacity to lean over the countertop, dip his head slightly, and glance up at Steve with the most mouth watering gaze.

Oh, he definitely has something Eddie can have. He wants to give it to him. Wants to feed it slowly between his lips until they’re spread tight. Then shove his fingers into Eddie’s hair and massage his scalp. And from the look on Eddie’s face, he’d love every single inch of it.

Steve’s never wanted to fuck someone’s face more.

“Um,” he looks around the empty restaurant, gauging if he could sneak in the back for a few minutes unnoticed.

The mall does seem quieter at the moment. Maybe no one will be craving a sundae for the next 10 minutes.

“Y-yeah, there is actually.”

Nervous energy is strumming under his skin. He prays he’s not misreading this. He’s never done this before, but he really really wants to. Didn’t even know that, until the curly haired man walked in here.

Now he thinks if Eddie doesn’t suck his cock in the next 5 minutes he’s never going to stop thinking about it.

“It’s in the back.” He swallows hard. “Um, in the-in the break room. Wanna see it? Maybe?” Hopefully Eddie doesn’t hear the crack in Steve’s voice.

Steve stands in nervous anticipation waiting for this whole thing to blow up in his face. Maybe Eddie will bust out laughing, call Steve a creep and stomp his way out of the restaurant. If he’s lucky Eddie won’t go around town telling everyone how the old king Steve is now queer Steve.

“Yeeaaah, definitely need to see it.” Eddie’s tongue glides languidly across his bottom lip. “Maybe wanna taste it even.”

Steve’s heart stutters while it quickly redirects his blood flow south. A tiny gasp slips past his now gaping mouth as Eddie’s eyes darken before him.

He nods in silent understanding and knows he needs to move quickly before anyone shows up. While biting his bottom lip to prevent a whimper from slipping out, he motions his head toward the break room door.

“Cool, very cool.” He keeps himself pointed toward Eddie and walks backward leading the way.

When Eddie makes it to the gap in the counter, Steve sees Eddie’s pupils widen and hears a heavy groan rumble from the man’s chest.

The break room door hits Steve’s back and he wonders how quiet they have to be. Because he’s sure from the look Eddie’s giving him, he wants to do more than suck him off.

And the way Steve’s body is responding, he would seriously consider it.

They disappear behind the door for 17 minutes, where Steve receives a sexy metalhead shaped hickey on the inside of his thigh.

“I don’t have all day, sailor man.” Erica Sinclair stands with her hands on her hips, glaring at the two men when they stumble out into the open.

Steve’s eyes fall on the melted mess of Eddie’s ice cream before taking in the angry tyke.

“Well, get after it, sailor man.” Eddie brings his palm down quickly, smacking Steve’s ass.

“Oh,” Steve startles forward feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Call me later?” Eddie whispers.

Steve tries to bite back a smile but fails while nodding eagerly.

Apparently Steve had been right, Eddie did want to lick him clean.

Eddie’s POV

coffee? ☕️🍩💕

[devondespresso]

watching steve and dustin clips from season 2 and i never realized how they just take turns being chill vs unhinged. like i think the moments where Dustin's going off and Steve's just sitting there are pretty commonly acknowledged, but there are just as many moments where Steve is just. wack. and Dustin is the straight-man telling him to chill

like waking up in the car obviously is one, but also stuffing the demodog corpse in the Byers' fridge? Steves shoving it in there like "dude help mE OUt" "yea sure.💁 what do i do🧍" "the dOor man tHE DOOR" "yeah ok i got the door😌👍"

also my personal favorite: in the bus Steve figuring out Dustin liked Max and going all wink wink nudge nudge and Dustin's like "why are you winking, Steve? stop."

best dynamic, just listen to the shit Dustin says quietly in response to Steve because its actually gold just hidden in blink-and-you'll-miss-it moments

[libraryofgage]

Life in Miniature (One)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedediah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One (you're here!)

There will be more Jedtavius in the next parts I promise, I just thought this would be a funner introduction to the AU lmao

I just love those little guy dudes from the museum so much hfjdks and now we get two pairs of them

Also, fun fact, I took Steve's Roman name from, like, an actual king of Rome. The actual sixth king. He seemed like a chill dude.

Anyway, there's a meme at the end and as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

---------

When Robin took this job as a night guard, she didn't think the previous guard's words about history coming to life at night was, you know, real. She thought it was a joke, a predictable and corny joke, but a joke nonetheless.

But now, after being chased by a T-Rex, getting saved by Theodore Roosevelt, and almost being taken captive by fucking Attila the Hun, Robin thinks this job definitely isn't worth $16.50 an hour. Then again, this is the best paying job she's had in a while, and she was living a nocturnal life anyway.

Robin groans, leaning against a wall in the diorama exhibit, and slides down to the floor. She lets her head fall back against the wall, her eyes slipping shut as she slides. "This is crazy. This is insane. I need to find a fucking weapon or something," she mutters.

"Pardon me," comes a voice close to her head, "but might you be the goddess Diana?"

As pick-up lines go, it's not the worst one she's heard. And, based on what she knows of Greek and Roman deities, it wouldn't be too far off. Still, she does not want to be hit on by whatever weird historical thing is trying to flirt with her.

Robin takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and says, "Do I look like a goddess to you?"

She looks to her left where the voice came from, blinking when her gaze falls on a figurine that would barely reach her ankle. He's dressed in a toga with a chest plate, wrist guards, a sword on his waist, and a deep purple cape over his shoulders. His hair is, honestly, the most impressive thing Robin has ever seen, made only more impressive by the golden laurels resting perfectly against his temples.

He's looking at her with wide eyes, more awed than anything else. "Yes," he says. "I have heard the gods are larger than life."

Okay. Fair.

"Why Diana, man?" Robin asks.

He tilts his head, studying her for a moment, looking her up and down. "You give me the same feeling as statues of Noble Diana with her Huntresses," he explains, pausing for a moment before adding, "A feeling of kinship, perhaps?"

Oh. This...this is like ancient Roman gaydar, right? Robin snorts and turns, resting her elbow on her knee. "I'm definitely not Diana. My name is Robin. I'm the new night guard."

His eyes brighten some, his smile growing wider and certainly charming enough to make the hearts of a few girls and guys flutter. "I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods, and adopted son of Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and Octavius, general of the Roman army."

Robin nods, letting all of the those words process in her head before saying, "Mind if I call you Steve? You look like a Steve."

The Sixth King of Rome blinks, looking slightly confused before his eyes light up with understanding. "Ah! A nickname! Yes, I am familiar with this concept. You may call me Steve, Lady Robin, as a show of our newfound friendship."

"Yeah, don't call me Lady Robin. Just Robin is fine," she says, hesitating before offering her hand to Steve.

"As you wish, Just Robin," he says, stepping carefully onto her hand and remaining steady as she raises him higher.

Robin blinks, frowning slightly and about to correct him again when she sees his smile and realizes it's a joke. "Okay, very funny, dingus," she says, carefully poking his side.

"Is dingus another nickname? It sounds like an insult."

"It usually is, but it's affectionate when I say it."

"Oh! Yes, like when Ockie calls Jed a philistine."

"Uh, sure," Robin says, nodding once as she lets Steve move to stand on her shoulder. He quickly sits, holding onto the collar of her jacket as she carefully stands up. "Hey, you know what I'm supposed to do about the dinosaur bones?"

"Rexy? Yes, he enjoys a game of fetch."

"Fetch. Of course."

----------

"What's going on in that head of yours, little man?"

Steve blinks, looks over at Jedediah, and raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm taller than you," he says, gesturing to the good inch he has on Jedediah.

"As long as you're my son, you're a little man."

Doing his best to not laugh, Steve nods once and points to the new diorama set up in the middle of the room. It's a circular diorama, centered on an equally circular stage divided into sections. A cacophony of noise echoes from it, clashing as each slice of the stage fights for dominance. "I'm trying to figure out what in Jupiter's name they're doing over there," he says.

"Well, most of it sounds like music," Jedediah says, "I think."

"It's not any music I've heard before," Octavius says, coming to a stop next to Jedediah and frowning at the diorama. "I would have assumed it the unholy shrieking of the damned."

"Perhaps it would be nicer if they weren't all playing at once," Steve suggests, hands on his hips as he tilts his head.

"Oh, boy, there it is," Jedediah says, his grin audible in his tone. "He's got the King Face."

"What are your intentions, my boy?" Octavius asks.

Before Steve can answer, Robin strolls into the room, grinning when she sees the raving diorama in the middle. She walks over to Steve, Jedediah, and Octavius, crouches down, and says, "Hey, guys. I see you're checking out the History of Rock display."

"History of Rock?" Steve asks.

"What in the sweet hell do rocks have to do with that mess?" Jedediah asks, gesturing to the noisy stage.

Robin rolls her eyes. "No, like, rock music. It's a genre. Anyway, it was sponsored by some musician, so it's a permanent display now."

"And they will be...playing every night?" Octavius asks.

"Probably."

Steve frowns a little more and nods, rolling his shoulders back. "If they are a permanent fixture in our hallowed hall, they must be welcomed. As Sixth King of Rome, this duty falls upon my shoulders. Fathers, I shall return shortly."

"Woah, woah, hold your horses there, little man," Jedediah says, moving to stand in front of Steve. "You're not going anywhere near that snake pit without some back up."

"A few centurions, at least," Octavius agrees.

"I will have Robin. What better protection is there?"

Jedediah and Octavius glance at each other before looking at Robin. She grins and offers them a two finger salute. "I'll guard him with my life," she says, "It's literally my job."

With that reassurance, Jedediah and Octavius move out of the way. Steve steps onto Robin's hand and settles on her shoulder with practiced ease, ignoring the nervous flutter in his stomach at greeting the new museum residents. He hopes they'll get along, but he also knows the might of his Roman army and the railroad workers can crush any who stand in their way.

Robin stops next to the diorama, tilting her head as she studies it. This close, Steve can see the bands playing on each slice of stage, the instruments and fashion shifting as his gaze travels around it. "Uh, excuse me," Robin says, raising her voice.

The raucous noise from the diorama screeches to a halt, the feedback making Robin and Steve grimace slightly. "Uh, hi. We're the official welcome crew for the Hall of Miniatures here. So, I'll need someone to represent your, like, whole display," Robin says, glancing over the bands until she finds one she recognizes. "Okay, I know you guys, so I'll be designating you the spokesband. Now, could the lead singer step forward?"

Steve watches as someone on the "Corroded Coffin" (what an odd name for a band) slice of the stage steps forward. Robin offers her hand to them, carefully lifting it away once they step on. "Great, uh, carry on, I guess. But, like, maybe play some of your quieter stuff for a bit," she says, her words barely out before the music starts up and the crowds start screaming once more.

She sighs and just walks over to the bench, letting off the person on her hand before letting Steve slide down her arm in a move they spent nearly three weeks practicing if only because they knew it would look cool.

When he hops onto the bench, Steve walks up to the other miniature, a man his age with long hair and odd clothes with tears that Robin once said were fashionable. His instrument is still slung over his shoulders, resting casually against his hips much like Steve's sword. Steve suddenly finds himself thinking that the man looks a little like a warrior. An odd one, to be sure, but a handsome one nonetheless.

He flashes his most charming smile, lets his shoulders relax, and says, "My friend here is Robin, Guardian of Brooklyn. I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods, and adopted son of Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and Octavius, general of the Roman army. You, however, may call me Steve."

-----

As far as Eddie was concerned, nothing mattered so long as Corroded Coffin got to keep rocking in an endless concert. The energy never waned, the set list never grew boring, and the music never stopped. He was ready to inform this welcoming crew of just that and promise Hell on Earth if they tried to disrupt the music (angry concert goers are a force of nature), when the words just died in his throat.

Because the most gorgeous man he's ever seen slides down that giant lady's arm, easily and smoothly landing on the bench. Somehow, his hair is perfectly windswept, the golden laurels glinting in the lights above them. His purple cape flutters softly as he walks closer, his toned thighs on full display with the toga hem that falls to the middle of them. There's a sword on the guy's hip, a chest plate that Eddie wants to pull off, a smile he wants to taste, and a pair of freckles right next to each other on the guy's cheek he wants to drag his tongue across.

He misses most of the introduction because he's too busy staring. He gets the important bits, though: Robin, a king, son of a god, adopted son of two dads. Eddie licks his lips nervously, a grin of his own tugging at his lips as he steps forward and playfully bows. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty," he says.

It's supposed to come out joking, a little poke at the guy's authority to see if he can be riled up. It actually comes out way too genuine, and Eddie has a sudden realization that he meant it. He absolutely will accept this guy as his king, actually. He'll fall to his knees before him right now if asked, and not just because it might give him a little peek under the dude's toga.

"Please, just call me Steve. There's no need to be so formal."

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, hoping Steve doesn't realize that the things Eddie is thinking about (the things he wants to do to and with Steve) are just about the least formal things on this earth. "Good to know," he says, relieved his voice sounds normal as he stands up straight and offers his hand. "Name's Eddie Munson, uh, lead singer of Corroded Coffin."

Steve blinks, and his smile becomes a bit more genuine as he steps closer and clasps Eddie's forearm. "A fellow leader," he says, squeezing Eddie's arm. "Welcome to our museum."

"Y-yeah," Eddie says, his arm still tingling when Steve lets go. He clears his throat, idly tugging on a few strands of hair. "So, uh, what's the deal around here? I mean, giant women...Roman kings...cowboys, it looks like."

"Our noble museum is home to Pharoah Ahkmenrah and his tablet, which brings the exhibits to life each night," Steve explains.

"There's a few rules, though," Robin says, sitting down on the bench behind Steve. "One, no getting into fights. Two, be back in your display by sunrise. Three, no leaving the museum at night."

"What? Why not?"

"We have lost good exhibits to Sol Invictus's morning rays," Steve says, frowning slightly. "So, be careful."

Eddie stares at Steve with wide eyes as he nods, amazed at the fact that Steve seems to talk like that so genuinely. And the fact that Eddie is...kinda into it. Holy shit, that's not helping with Eddie's whole "fall to his knees" thing. He wouldn't mind some good old-fashioned worship if Steve would just smile at him again.

Maybe his prayers are heard, because Steve smiles at him again. "Wonderful," he says. "Now, Eddie, could I interest you in a tour of the museum tonight?"

"Oh, you could interest me in a lot of things, sweetheart," Eddie blurts out, his mouth running faster than his brain.

He snaps his jaw shut, relieved and horrified at Steve's slightly confused expression and Robin's "I know what you are" thousand-yard stare from over his shoulder. Before he can try to backtrack, Steve snaps, understanding in his eyes. "Ah! Sweetheart is a nickname, yes? I accept your offer of friendship."

Eddie clenches his jaw, stopping himself from saying that it's more than friendships he's offering, and smiles. "Yeah. A nickname. That's all. I'm just...a nickname kinda guy. I'll probably think of more, too, Stevie. Like that."

Steve practically beams, and Eddie feels his knees go weak. "I look forward to it," he says, turning on his heel to look at Robin, who thankfully schools her expression. "Robin, this is where we leave you for the night. You have my word that Eddie will be back in place before sunrise."

"Well, you two kids have fun," she says, grinning in a way that immediately puts Eddie on edge. "I'd better not hear about any funny business, though. Absolutely no bases should be reached tonight, and you'd better not do any conquering or pillaging."

She definitely looks at Eddie when she says that last bit. Eddie stiffens, doing his best to hold back a blush when Steve glances over at his, the confusion clear on his face. "Conquering requires more planning than this, Robin. I've told you before."

"Don't worry about it, dingus. Just have fun. Here, I'll even call a ride for you," she says, winking at them before turning, holding her fingers to her mouth, and whistling sharply.

Steve walks over to Eddie right as the ground starts to shake, easily catching him around the waist before he can lose his balance. "The shaking does take some getting used to," he says, his tone full of sympathy and obliviousness to the crisis Eddie is experiencing.

When his brain finally catches up enough to ask what he's talking about, a dinosaur skeleton slides into the room, its body wiggling excitedly as it growls. Eddie jerks back, the arm around his waist tightening some. "What the fuck?!" he shouts.

"Worry not," Steve says, leaning closer. His voice is a little softer now, his breath fanning over Eddie's ear. "This is Rexy, our steed for the evening. He's very friendly."

"Friendly," Eddie mumbles, letting himself be dragged over to Rexy and placed on the dinosaur's head by Robin. "The dinosaur is friendly."

"Many of the exhibits are," Steve tells him, grinning brightly as Rexy begins moving after a pet on the snout from Robin.

Eddie looks at him, feeling blinded by Steve's smile once more, and completely forgets about the living dinosaur skeleton.

--------

Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

(Also I know there are like one or two upcoming parent AUs that people have asked to be tagged in and I tried to see if this was one of them but couldn't find anyone for the life of me hfjdks so I'm sorry if you asked on another post and I missed you orz)

And, finally, a meme for you

[cranberrymoons]

tis the season

prompt: platonic stobin (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 581 rated: t tags: road trip, bickering, fluff, and one (1) daddy joke 💀

welcome to Day 17 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

“If you’d just –”

“I told you, I didn’t –”

“It’s not my fault you –”

“Listen, Buckley, I’m –”

“Guys,” Steve says, cutting through their bickering. His hands are tight on the steering wheel, and he can feel his shoulders bunching up around his ears, and they’ve been trapped in this car for god knows how fucking long, and he just – “Cool it.”

Robin huffs, flopping back in her seat. “Sorry, Dad.”

Eddie does too, turning around from where he’d been twisted fully in the passenger seat to argue with her about whose fault it was that they ran out of car snacks a half hour ago. (It was Steve’s actually; he finished the pretzels when no one was looking, but he’s not about to rat himself out and face down the combined force of their snack wrath.)

“I’d call you Dad too,” Eddie says. “But that usually goes the other way around for us, doesn’t it?”

Robin makes a disgusted sound, and Steve catches a glimpse of her outraged face as she surges forward to punch Eddie on the shoulder.

“Okay, just –” Steve reaches behind himself, batting at Robin halfheartedly, cheeks going warm as he glares at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. “Chill. There’s a truck stop –” He squints at an approaching sign. “A mile ahead. Just hold out for literally one minute, and then you can have all the snacks you can carry.”

Robin huffs, and Eddie grumbles under his breath, and they both lean against opposite windows like a couple of sullen teenagers, but Steve manages to get them safely off the road and to the gas station without further incident, which he counts as a win. 

“We both know it was you, by the way,” Eddie tells him once they’re inside, wandering down a long aisle of chips, shoulders bumping under the glaring fluorescents of the convenience store. “Snack monster.”

Steve smiles, letting out a little laugh. He turns to Eddie, toe to toe in front of the salt and vinegar chips. 

“You don’t actually know it was me,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “You can’t prove it.”

“Are you kidding? I was present at the scene of the crime.” He leans closer, and Steve sways toward him, but Eddie just grabs a bag of Doritos from the shelf behind him and retreats. He shakes them in Steve’s direction. “These are going under lock and key, by the way.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude.”

“Dude.” 

Eddie’s grin flashes at him as he starts back down the aisle in the direction they came. Steve follows, and they find Robin near the register, examining a rack of Santa hats with possibly too much intensity. 

“Buckley,” Eddie says. He tosses her a bag of Combos, which she catches in two fumbling hands. “Dude. What’re you doing?’

“Trying to decide which of these Christmas-themed trucker hats I’m going to buy,” she says. She plucks one off the rack and shoves it on her head, turning to face them. “Thoughts?”

It has an embroidered torso with ornaments for boobs, and it says Tits the Season in script. Steve nods very seriously, clutching a fresh bag of pretzels. 

“It’s perfect for you,” he says, and he’s only joking a little bit. “Matches your eyes.”

“Good,” she says. She takes it off her head and shoves it into his chest. “You can buy it for me, since you’re the one who ate all the fucking snacks.”

[also on ao3]