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#but stop saying steve is dumb
disasterlia · 2 years
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Drabble : Insecure + deaf Steve
Was it on twitter first ? Why yes. 
I’m jumping onto the “ Steve after too many concussion loose his hearing” and I’m adding a pinch of angst and insecurities.
_ _
It’s not a secret anymore, after too many encounters with the Upside Down, with various fists and walls, Steve can’t hear anymore. He didn’t even know it was a possibility. Getting concussed enough that you fuck up your hearing like a looser. 
Still, it was fine. He was alive. More importantly, the kids were alive. Vecna was dead. The gates were closed ( hopefully for good this time). Max recovery was a slow process, but she was alive and not alone, never alone. Eddie was out of the hospital, finally. 
What if Steve couldn’t hear anything anymore ? He was learning ASL , was learning how to get by now. And he wasn’t alone in his recovery either. 
He was slowly forgetting the kids voices. It was less fine. But Steve was stupid and confident enough to adapt, to survive. 
He would never hear Eddie’s music. He would never hear the words the other whispered against his skin in the obscurity of their rooms. It was fine. More or less. 
He wasn’t alone. He was adapting. It was fine. 
The thing is, he couldn’t hear himself anymore either. It had been fine too at first. Robin admitted his voice was a little different. She would tap her arm when he was too loud. But she never complained. 
It was fine. Until it wasn’t. 
Steve couldn’t even remember what made him laugh. But he was, so hard that his stomach was cramping, that he was feeling that sweet rush. 
“ What the hell ! Steve ! What do you laugh like that ? Steve ? It’s so weird !! Oh god you’re sound so stupid it’s perfect.” 
Steve was not the best at lip reading, especially with Dustin. ( and Mr Munson, his moustache was his worst nightmare but he would rather DIE than admit any difficulty to Eddie’s uncle.)
 But he understood. He understood enough. 
It was no voluntarily mean. Dustin was like that loud, and too franc, often rude without meaning to. It hurt. And the hurt borrowed deep. It changed him.
And no one seemed to notice. But, they rarely noticed Steve. No truly. 
He began to held back. He took the habit to hide, behind his hands, biting his lips, muffling any sound that would betray him. Ridicule him further. He spoke more with his hands than with his voice. And he never laugh. No out loud. Never again. Self-conscious. Hurt. Ashamed.
No one noticed.
It was fine, Steve was handling it. Until, Eddie. Eddie, always at his side, always touching him, bumping his shoulder, stroking the inside of his wrist to get his attention. Seeking his attention, his approval all the times. Eddie pushed, and pushed, always asking for more of him. His eyes always on him, watching, considering.
Steve felt seen. Naked.
Until, finally, head resting against his palm, Eddie asked. “ …you rarely speak anymore, Stevie, why’s that? I can’t even remember the last time I heard your voice. Hell, Erica’s joke was good, but you didn’t laugh. Why?”
At least, he waited for them to be alone to attack him. Because it felt like an assault, a personal one.
Eddie always craved more and he wanted to hear him laugh.
It was not the first time he asked. And Steve always shrugged, found a way to change the subject, to smile like it was nothing. All denial and escape.
“ I’m fine. It’s fine.”
And those dark eyes on him, always watching him, careful. “ No, no it’s not. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, sweetheart.”
Eddie was always watching him and recently, he was also making Steve blush way too often.
When it happens, when he relapses, Steve didn’t even notice at first. 
His cheeks were warm, his heart heavy with way too much feelings, way too much Eddie.
And Eddie was silent. Eddie who always teased, who could never let a silence stretch too laugh, wasn’t saying anything. He was only watching Steve, with the weirdest, softest smile. “ There you are, Stevie… There you are.”
And Steve startled under the brush of his hand against his smile, like a lover caress.
“…knew you could laugh. I wish you would laugh  more often, Sweetheart, you're so pretty when you laugh.”
“ What ? No, Eddie. It’s fine. Don’t be…like, that. It’s fine. I know I sound like a damn goat.” Steve could only offer an embarrassed smile, that looked more like a grimace. His cheeks were burning. “ m’ sorry you had to hear it.”
It’s a whiplash the way Eddie’s eyes darken, his mouth turned down. “ The fuck Stevie ? What the- Would told you that ?”
“ It’s fine. Really.” Steve tried to plead with his own eyes, to make Eddie understand, that really, he understood. The other man didn’t have to get all outraged for him. That it was fine.
“ No, no it’s not. That’s why you don’t…Steve. Don’t tell me you feel like you have to hide your own laugh?”
A flinch he didn’t manage to contain. His skin was on fire. If a small gate could open, at this right moment, Steve would jump in head first.  “…It’s fine.”
He watched, as Eddie worried his hair. “ Fuck, Steve…That’s not okay. Steve, listen.” He grimaced. “ Sorry.”
But Steve could never be upset with him. Especially now that his was cradling his hand between his own and watching him with the most troubling expression.
“ Look, Stevie. I love your laugh. It’s beautiful, pretty like you. You don’t have to be ashamed. It’s a little loud but fuck, that…the point ! If I knew who put this stupid idea into your heard, sweetheart, I would make him eat his words. Trust me.”
“…You…you think I’m pretty?”
And Eddie startled expression, his eyes oh so big, staring at him, as it was his turn to blush, made everything a little more okay.
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cuepickle · 11 months
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Can’t decide if they fought each other or together
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eternalpassions · 10 months
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The last thing I’ll say about Nancy. I didn’t call her behavior Slutty because of the amount of guys she has sex with. I called her that because of her deceptive and hypocritical nature which makes her a dirty cheat. That’s what makes her “slutty” . Either way she ain’t real so I can say whatever I want on the character. Don’t worry she’s fictional she’ll survive
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shopcat · 1 year
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people will see two characters who are good friends ... best friends even ...live in each others pockets ... are incredibly important to each other and a really lovely and sweet and very simple example of friendship being important and fulfilling and meaningful and beautiful and not "just" friendship because there is no such thing... and then they will turn around and they haven't even finished the previous sentence before being like Oh but if this one wasn't a lesbian she would be in love with her male best friend and vice versa. obviously. or he has feelings for her but he "let them go" because she's a lesbian if she wasn't though they would date. in fact if this was a magical world where he was a girl all along they would be in love because all that stuff i said about friendship and importance was actually just words ?!
and like beyond the sheer lesbophobia and sheer CRUELTY for him to even consider either of them in that light on a regular basis i would honestly prefer people own the fuck up to what they're apparently trying to say here and fully commit to going "No, i DON'T actually think friendship that stays platonic and that factor of it will NEVER change can be equally important or MORE SO as other kinds of relationships and in fact i don't think the very idea exists i was just saying all that stuff about platonic nonromantic soulmates to just say it". right before the apparent mission statement of so many that is "if a lesbian is friends with a man i think her sexuality is getting in the way in one way or another". i wish you people just literally got your phones taken away and a parental lock put in place.
#i wish when you blocked people it hurt them.#he. and obv you know who i'm talking about. DOES NOT HAVE FEELINGS FOR HER#and she. DOES NOT HAVE AND NEVER HAS AND NEVER WOULD AND NEVER COULD HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM#you're NOT going oh in another life we would've got married if i wasn't gay you're not DOING that#you're being WEIRD. STOP IT. ITS SO FUCKING EASY 😭😭😭#if you seriously can't conceptualise any of those dumb hypotheticals where he's like a girl the whole time or shes Not a lesbian#where the end goal isn't ''oh so they can date now :)'' it's.... so they're still friends.... THEN YOURE INSANE ‼️‼️‼️#AND POSSIBLY FUCKING EVIL‼️‼️‼️#so they ''CAN'' date now sends shivers up my spine#this is what i mean when i say i hate that codependent shit now. no one can be normal about it and now i hate it all#i'm going to make anti codependent hcs to put negativity out there to balance it out. i don't think steve knows her last name#also anyone who thinks steve as of s4 has any sort of feelings for robin that is literally so gross 😭 why would you even like him if you#thought that. case in point and i'm NOT even exaggerating here that is what people who Hate steve say#as proof for hating him. cuz they think he has feelings for her. which is something you would hate him for#also literally do not doubt me for if some reason in s5 he says and acrually means ''i have feelings for robin still'' i would .. stop#liking him... it would be easy.....#sts#anyway. this isn't about trans content either that's a whole other . Thing. which i don't really care about right now
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mieczyhale · 2 years
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post: steve shaves his head
me: ..okay.. i guess i get it..
post: and then eddie shaves his head
me, anxious and nauseous: NO THE FUCK HE DOES NOT
#not in solidarity not ever#his hair is important#it's one of the ways he took and keeps control of his own appearance#it's one of the ways he says 'fuck you' to societal rules and expectations#it's important for headbanging#(you can headbang without the hair but it's not the same i promise)#and i love it and need people to stop trying to make eddie into a Regular Dude#i know that post in particular was supposed to be a 'he did it in solidarity with steve' thing but they also phrased it#as them both getting 'a fresh start' at life and shedding reputations or whatever and i hate it#steve wanting to be known for more than his hair is even kinda dumb. to shave it to 'take control from his parents' or whatever#s1 hair was his parents control. his hair after that is all him and he cares about it. likes caring about it. helps dustin with#his own hair. its not a negative thing for steve.#steve is a bisexual who babysits kids that call him mom his best friend is a lesbian and he fights monsters - there's a lot of ways you can#go about giving him freedom and power from/over his parents that doesnt include removing a feature he likes about himself#as for eddie - his whole thing is him not giving a fuck what people think. or at least trying to not give a fuck#its obviously a lot harder when people have decided you're a murderer (with zero proof and based 100% on their idea of you) but#even then - as dustin points out - he never stopped being eddie. no matter the threat against him he never changes anything about himself#to appease others or appeal to others. so why - after all of that - would he be up for a change??? and into something more normal-looking??#nobody gets to dictate anything about him - hasnt since he got away from whoever made him shave his head as a kid - and#they both have fucked up reputations - some of it true and some of it not - but why would they give a fuck?? after EVERYTHING??#steve has grown past stupid high school bullshit like 'popularity' so why would a stupid high school reputation that hasnt been accurate#for years matter to him?? everyone who matters knows him better than that#same goes for eddie#so like... idk man. i know im weirdly attached to certain things about certain characters and yeah it's 'just hair' but like..#when your hair isnt yours to control and then it finally is?? that's a big deal. that's important#and i know i wouldnt give it up for shit.#and maybe shaving their heads could be their decision but i really truly dont fucking think it would be#even just hair cuts feel like No. nope. no thank u. put that hair back where u found it and keep it there#mystposts
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chelseeebe · 1 month
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just a taste
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18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.
a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)
✧・゚: ✧・゚:
eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 
“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 
“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 
“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 
“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.
“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.
this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.
“now?” 
she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 
eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 
“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 
she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 
he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 
-
eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 
“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 
he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 
you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 
two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 
not if you were sleeping in his bed. 
it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 
“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 
who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 
“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 
“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 
“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 
his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 
'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 
-
when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 
eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 
jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 
leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 
tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 
and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 
you land on edward scissorhands. 
not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 
in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.
at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 
he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.
robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 
“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 
you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 
he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 
unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 
-
living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 
it’s torturous. 
testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 
so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.
of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 
his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 
though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 
now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 
eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 
good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 
tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 
gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 
reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 
oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.
“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 
eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 
“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 
your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 
you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 
“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 
eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 
“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 
“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 
there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 
“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 
you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 
eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 
“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 
he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 
“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 
you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 
-
at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 
you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 
“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 
he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 
“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 
“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 
if only she knew. 
eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  
he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 
cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 
everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 
-
eddie can’t take it anymore. 
he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 
but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 
the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 
he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 
your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 
“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 
robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 
thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 
he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 
how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?
“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 
“you want some help with that?” 
eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 
it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 
“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 
he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 
your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?
this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 
eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.
the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 
the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 
when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 
your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 
no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 
“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 
his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 
you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 
eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 
it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 
“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.
you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable
“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.
"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.
“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.
“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.
“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  
“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.
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steddie-as-they-come · 2 months
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everybody talks
i could not tell you what this is. i wrote it all in one sitting. enjoy or whatever
It starts with the graffiti.
Scribbled in thick, permanent marker across the boys' gym lockers.
STEVE HARRINGTON FUCKS EDDIE MUNSON
The custodian tries half-heartedly to scrub it off, but he only manages to get about a letter and a half off the locker before his shift is over. It's back up by the next day anyway.
Half the school is walking on tiptoes around Steve, waiting for him to blow up and demand a manhunt for the culprit.
The other half is snickering and laughing as he walks by in the halls.
Steve doesn't give two shits. He holds his head up high and walks onwards, ignoring the laughs and the kissy noises. He needs to graduate. He needs to not get eaten by a terrifying monster from an alternate reality. More pressing things happen to Steve Harrington than grade school graffiti.
Until he turns the corner and sees Eddie Munson glaring furiously at his closed locker.
He doesn't speak to him. Even if the graffiti isn't a big deal, there's no need to add any fuel to the fire.
Eddie finally steps forward and wrenches open his locker door. The crowd milling in the halls begins to laugh.
Papers spill out, dozens of them, cascading over the floor and burying Eddie's shoes. One slides all the way to Steve's feet.
He looks down automatically.
There's an atrocious drawing of two stick figures bent over each other. The one on the bottom has two lines of curly hair, while the one on the top has a singular swooping line of graphite.
Great.
Steve swiftly scoops it up and crumples it in his fist, shoving it in his pocket. He'll toss it out later.
As he hustles past Eddie, steadfastly not looking in his direction, he thinks he hears Eddie mutter, "Every class period."
Steve turns a corner, and the train wreck that is Eddie's locker is gone.
He slides into his seat, knowing the band girls who sit in the back corner of the classroom are whispering about him, but finding he couldn't care less.
The teacher starts class.
He reaches into his pocket and slides the crumpled paper between his fingers, over and over.
Steve raises his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?"
The teacher nods and waves him away, and Steve scrambles out the door, rounding the corner.
Eddie's still there, kneeling by his locker, trying to scoop up papers.
Steve kneels next to him. "Hey."
Eddie jumps like an alley cat that's been spooked. Steve could swear his hair starts bristling, puffing up.
"Your majesty," Eddie finally says, glaring back at the pile of paper like Steve'll disappear if he doesn't look at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure."
It's not really a question.
Steve answers it anyway. "Came to help," he says simply, picking up a piece of paper that has EDDIE MUNSON X STEVE HARRINGTON written on it in bold letters, surrounded by stupid little hearts. "After all, my name's on half this stuff."
"How kind," Eddie said. "Keeping me distracted while your buddies key my van or something?"
Steve reels back. "Huh?"
"I'm not dumb, Harrington," Eddie says, crumpling up another sheet of paper. Steve can barely catch EDDIE HARRINGTON on it before it's balled in Eddie's fist. "I get this is a prank or whatever. I just can't understand why you'd involve yourself with me. The King and the Freak."
"'Cause I'm not the King anymore." Steve says, standing to drag a nearby garbage can closer. It's already half-full of papers. "You sure don't listen to gossip, Munson. Billy beat my ass and I lost every friend I had. So. I think it's a prank on both of us."
"Oh."
Eddie, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, shuts the fuck up. Steve had seen people lose their meals to his impassioned school cafeteria rants, but it only takes Steve Harrington to shut Munson's infamous mouth.
Wait, that sounds wrong.
They keep cleaning in silence - relatively. Steve starts balling up the papers and tossing them at the trash can, unable to stop himself from hissing out a yes! if he makes the throw.
"Impressive," Eddie says dryly. "Can you do this?" He raises one hand in the air like he's about to take a pledge, and in the other he folds and rolls a slip of paper until it's shaped like a joint.
Steve chuckles. "Nope." He takes the fake joint, and it comes undone in his palm, revealing the same crude stick figure couple from earlier.
Right.
Steve had forgotten what they were doing here.
Evidently, Eddie had too. He looks down at the drawing, then snatches the paper from Steve, tossing it in the trash, two spots of pink high on his cheeks.
He scoops the last of the papers into his arms, dumping them in the trash can. "You can go back to class," he tells Steve, settling down with his back against the locker.
"What are you doing?" Steve says, slightly caught off-guard by the dismissal.
"Seeing if those pricks will try to do it again." Eddie says, folding his knees up to his chest. "They do it all the time. I think there's a jungle's worth of trees just being used to make shit for my locker."
"You're just gonna guard it?" Steve asks.
"Sure," Eddie says, picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. "What else have I got to do?"
Steve plops himself down next to Eddie. "I'll guard with you," he says stubbornly.
"Seriously?" Eddie asks, like Steve's particularly slow. Steve's gotten that tone of voice a lot in his life.
"Yeah." Steve says. He parrots, "What else have I got to do?"
"You're just gonna fuel the rumors, dude." Eddie says. "My name's mud around here. You know that damn well."
"Sure," Steve shrugs. "But it hasn't been half-bad hanging out with you, and I don't care what these jackasses think of me anymore. Bigger things to worry about."
They settle into a comfortable silence, watching the students pass by, their whispered comments and curious glances bouncing off the duo. Eddie taps his fingers rhythmically on the ground, humming a tune Steve doesn't recognize but finds oddly comforting.
He reaches into his pocket to feel the small paper, then tugs it out. Is it dumb that a stupid drawing is making him think about himself this much?
"Hey, Eddie," Steve starts, hesitating. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," Eddie says idly.
"How do you... I mean, when did you know you were gay?" Steve asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eddie's expression turns to one of suspicion, but he answers anyway. "I guess I always knew, deep down. But I really figured it out in middle school." He looks at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"
Steve bites his lip, considering his next words carefully. "I think I might be... different too. I mean, I've only ever dated girls, but lately, I don't know. I feel... something."
Something means he worried for weeks when Billy beat the shit out of him because suddenly all these feelings were tugging at his brain. Feelings for people like Eddie Munson.
Eddie's eyes widen slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. (What? Steve's not looking at his lips. Huh?) "Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High, might not be straight? Now that's some gossip I'd actually pay attention to."
"Shut up," Steve mutters, but he's smiling too. "I'm serious."
"Well..." Eddie trails off. "We can try it out?"
Steve's heart skips a beat. "Huh?"
"We can try it out." Eddie repeats. "But, uh," he leans close, his breath ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear. "Just so you know, I prefer to be the one on top."
Weeks later, the school is overtaken by a new kind of graffiti. Papers plastered to every surface, a spiky handwriting (usually used to write setlists and D&D character sheets) adorning each and every one of them.
EDDIE MUNSON FUCKS STEVE HARRINGTON
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Text
"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“
"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.
Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"
At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."
Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.
He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“
Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?
"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“
Eddie blinks. "What?“
"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“
Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-
Steve takes another step back.
"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“
Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"
"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“
Oh.
Oh no.
Eddie fucked up.
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lesservillain · 8 months
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“That’s it, such a good girl.”
Steve looks up at you. Eyes half lidded and jaw slack, he’s doing the best he can to restrain himself from taking over. He can’t do it, not yet anyway. You look too perfect bouncing up and down on his cock for him to stop you now.
“Gettin’ all those big thoughts outta that dumb little head of yours?”
Your head nods dumbly, eyes barely able to focus on the man under you as you grind yourself against him, moving just enough that the thick head of his cock keeps nudging at that sweet spot deep inside you.
You’ve made yourself cum a few times this way already, the extra stimulation of his big thumb resting where you can rub your clit against it continuously sending those extra shock waves through you.
“You work so hard all day, baby. Needed this real bad, didn’t you?”
“Y-yes,” you whine out, another orgasm building up inside you. Your body starts to shake in anticipation, and Steve’s big arms wrap around you to pull you closer.
“Here, baby, let me take care of you,” Steve says as he shifts the both of you, getting himself in a better position. “Gonna fuck you until you forget your own name.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, giving him sloppy kisses on his neck as he starts to fuck into you slowly. You cant stifle the moan that comes out when he starts to pick up the pace. Your panting into his neck, head bouncing against his shoulder as his pace becomes relentless.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Steve groans, grip on your ass tightening as he drills into you. Before you can even comprehend it, your body is spasming, clenching around him as you cum all over his cock.
Steve gasps, hissing through his teeth as he starts to fill you up. He holds your body flush against his, as if you were going to float away if he didn’t hold on.
“Better?” He asks after a few moments. You nod lazily. Much better.
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appocalipse · 6 months
Text
that guy ⊹ steve harrington
summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.
It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.
To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.
You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.
"Hi."
You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"
"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."
A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.
How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?
You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.
"So...not the one, I take it?"
Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.
"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"
The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."
Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.
"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."
"She does."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."
"At least you have one."
He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"
You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.
What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.
Until it wasn't.
"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."
"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."
Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"
You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."
"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"
Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.
Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.
"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."
"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.
Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"
"You...don't know him," you hedge.
"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."
"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."
Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."
The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.
You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."
"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.
You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?
You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.
"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."
Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.
The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.
No, you aren't going to cry.
This is stupid.
You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.
When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.
You don't have to look up to know that it's him.
"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.
"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.
"You look just fine to me."
You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."
He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.
"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.
You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.
"I should've never asked. That was selfish."
"Forget it," you say.
He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.
You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.
"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."
"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."
"Yup. Exactly. In there."
"So you said."
"Yep."
The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—
He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.
"Okay, so—"
You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.
He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."
You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.
"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"
"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."
"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"
He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.
"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."
"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.
"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."
"Steve."
"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."
"Steve—"
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.
Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.
"Is this okay?" he whispers.
"I don't—what?"
Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.
"This," Steve murmurs.
He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."
"I think I am."
His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.
"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"
You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.
"Yes. It's you."
A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.
You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."
A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.
"Oh yeah?"
"Completely."
You kiss him this time.
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catherinnn · 2 months
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Truth or Dare Harrington?
Steddie x reader
summary: The gang has a night out singing karaoke and drinking. When the party dies down, this trio continues the fun at your apartment.
warnings: SMUT (+18), threesome, p i v, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), oral sex (m & f), no body descriptions appart that it's afab reader, smoking weed and drinking alcohol.
words: 3.2 k. masterlist
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It had started as a fun night out celebrating you were all finally available, the entire group.
Ever since some of you started collage and others started working, the group wasn't what it once was. But tonight you were all here, drinking shot after shot and finishing endless cups of whatever you were ordering.
You went to a karaoke bar –Robin's idea– and it was the most fun you have had in a while.
You did all from solo songs to duets.
You sang 'I'm Just a Girl' with the girls; you sang a duet with Eddie doing 'The Chain'; Steve dared you to sing 'Take My Breath Away'; and then you made him sing 'Last Christmas' –even though it is July– but he made you sing it with him. Eddie and Steve dedicated you their version of 'Maneater' which you didn't know if you should be flattered or offended by.
To sum up, every possible song until your vocal cords hurt.
After that, you offered your apartment to keep the party going. Steve and Eddie were the firsts to say yes very excitedly, but the rest of the gang decided to head home already, calling it a night.
Eddie offered to share some of his good stuff but they went off either way. You still agreed to go and smoke at least for a little while with the boys.
That's how you ended up in your couch, passing a joint among the three of you while you played some dumb drinking game.
"Truth" Eddie chooses.
"Who of the two of us was your favorite to sing with tonight?" you ask him.
"Oh, that's mean. I liked both of you," Eddie takes a moment to think. "but I think we had a lot of chemistry on that stage, big boy"
"What?" you ask offended at his answer. "We had so much chemistry with that song, and it was much more of an iconic moment than yours!"
"Hey hey, he already made his decision!" Steve argues. "Control your jealousy"
"Get out of my apartment" you joke.
"Alright, calm down, I'll make you choose too" Eddie starts. "If you were... stranded on a desert island with one of us, who would it be?"
You roll your eyes, "that's easy, Steve" Eddie gasps offended and Steve grins proudly. "Well, because he was an athlete, he has a good body to survive and also take care of me" you tried to defend your answer.
"I'll take care of you baby" Steve winks at you.
Eddie and you start bickering until Steve makes you shut up and keep playing.
"Quit fighting, Eddie I dare you to say your favorite thing about her"
Eddie smirks already knowing his answer, "Umm, let me think," he says, pretending to be indecisive while forming two circles with his hands in front of his chest, mimicking the shape of breasts.
Steve laughs at this and you roll your eyes containing your giggle.
"Uh- no, it's her eyes, definitely" he answers for real this time.
"Yours?" Steve asks you now. "What's your favorite think about him?"
"Umm," you look at him while thinking your answer. "I could say your eyes as well, but I don't want to copy you... and I love your hair but we have the king of all hairs here present" you say referring to Steve. "I really like your smile, your whole face lights up when you smile, and you have those cute dimples too"
Eddie, ironically, can't help but smile at your statement.
"My turn" you declare. "Stevie, truth or dare"
"Dare"
"I dare you to... hold hands with Eddie for the next three rounds"
"Alright" he takes the other man's hand in his as he also takes the joint from his mouth to keep smoking himself. The latter rolls his eyes at this.
More rounds like that continue, where Eddie makes you sit on Steve's lap until you finish playing, and you make Eddie do a sexy dance without music where you couldn't stop laughing.
"Truth or dare Harrington?" the metalhead asks him.
"Truth"
"What is... a fantasy of yours? A sexy one"
"Uh..." Steve debates whether to say it or not. "Well, I've always wanted to- um, to have a threesome"
"Really?"
"Yeah"
"With two girls?" you ask him.
"Yeah... or a guy and a girl too, I think" he confesses.
"Princess, I dare you and Steve to shotgun" Eddie says all of the sudden.
"What? It's not even your turn"
"We're not even following those rules anymore" he defends.
"Uh, fine" you agree either way.
Steve grabs the joint and as you were already on his lap you just turn your head to look at him.
"I'll do it, yeah?" he checks and you nod.
He takes a drag and holds it, you move your head as close as you can so your lips are almost touching. He exhales the smoke into your mouth and you inhale it.
You don't know if it's the weed or having Steve so close to your face you're almost kissing, but you get a little dizzy on your head.
"You okay?" he checks on you again noticing this. You nod slowly without moving away yet, as you exhale the smoke.
Eddie looks at this smirking, enjoying the scene. "Steve, I dare you to kiss her"
"W- what?"
"Oh, you are both dying to! Just do it already!" he accuses.
You and Steve look back at each other as if you're asking the same question: Can we?
And you both give each other a little nod.
Therefore, Steve slowly closes the distance, finally kissing you.
His lips feel soft on yours. You can taste something sweet as well as the weed from before. The kiss is slow and tender, he caresses your cheek to pull you closer. Your hands go to his hair, feeling how soft it is.
When you separate, you let a little laugh out and so does he.
"That's cute" Eddie comments. You both look back at him.
Steve tries something, hoping it goes well. "Munson, I dare you to kiss her now"
He looks at Steve surprised, but with a smile on. As if he couldn't believe he had said that.
"Can I, sweetheart?" He asks you.
It's like having a little red devil on one shoulder saying, 'Yes! Go kiss him!' and a little angel on the other shoulder saying, 'No, you shouldn't be doing this.’
You pick the devil's side.
Getting down from Steve’s lap, you move closer to the other boy now.
He smirks at you before pressing his lips to yours.
This kiss was a little harder, not fast, just more passionate. He tastes like mint mixed with a smoky sent, being the weed and cigarettes. His hand is also on your cheek, almost at your jaw, keeping you in place. Your hands are also on his hair as you play with his curls.
You separate and feel that dizzy head again. What are these boys doing to you?
He smiles as well as Steve did and you ignore the little jump your belly does.
"I think there's only one move left" you comment as you look at them. You point at one, then at the other, and continue moving your finger back and forth between them, indicating both of them.
Eddie looks at Steve with a big grin. He's enjoying this way too much.
"O- okay" Steve agrees and they get closer until they start kissing.
You lean back enjoying the show. They don't hold back, it’s not a mere peck on the lips, not even close to that. They kiss properly. You wonder if now their tastes are mixed as well. Or if they can taste your lips as well as each other's.
You sit up and get closer to them. They separate and both look at you with puffy lips, you smile at that sight. You feel their hands at your waist bringing you closer. You grab both their faces gently as you bring them closer together and to you.
They see you closing your eyes and they follow you.
It's your first three-way kiss, it's not as uncomfortable as you imagined it would be. It's pretty fun actually, feeling both of their lips against yours, tongues meeting each other again. It's really hot.
You separate after a few minutes of that, looking at them smiling.
"Umm, do you... do any of you want to stop?" Steve asks a bit awkwardly.
Eddie is quick to shake his head, looking at you expectantly.
"Me either" you confirm.
Eddie smiles and kisses you again. You extend your hand to Steve so he doesn't feel left out. He takes it and starts to kiss your neck now. You let out a soft moan against the other boy's mouth.
Kisses and touches are shared among the three of you. You feel Eddie's hands under your shirt and Steve's on your ass. The metalhead lifts your shirt up a little as if asking you if it's okay, you separate from Steve's mouth and lift your arms up. He bites his lips as he takes the shirt off.
Both boy's hands are quickly on your waist, belly and chest.
"You can take that off too, you know?" you say referring to you bra. They look at you as if you just told them they won the lottery.
Steve is the first to reach the back of your bra and unhook it. Eddie's hands take your straps and slowly takes it off completely.
They stare at your boobs as if it is the first time they're seeing breasts. You know for a fact that it's not.
Steve's hands that were on your waist, travel upwards to touch them. Eddie goes to kiss your neck and travel down to your chest, and then to your breasts.
Steve kisses you again and you go to take his shirt off now. You moan on his mouth as Eddie plays with your tits expertly, making you more impatient.
“Can you lay down for us, sweetheart?” Steve asks you and you do as he asked.
Eddie sits up next to Steve, looking down at you as well. Steve whispers something in Eddie’s ear and he nods in agreement. You frown.
“Care to share with the class, boys?” you tell them. Eddie smirks at your joke but stays quiet.
“We just want to take of you” Steve starts.
“Enjoy you a little bit. Does that sound good, princess?” Eddie continues.
You’re still intrigued of what they agreed on, but accept either way.
“Good, just relax for us” Eddie says again as he hovers on top of you and starts kissing you. You enjoy having him like this. You feel Steve’s hands on your thighs going up to your hips.
“Can I take these off?” he asks referring to your pants and you give him the green light.
He unbuttons your pants and takes them off, taking his time, caressing your thighs while you still enjoy of the other boy’s lips on yours.
“These are so cute, baby” the bigger boy comments making Eddie stop kissing you to turn his head and see what he was talking about.
“Oh” Eddie lets out sweetly, “Do you always wear pretty panties like these?” he teases and you shake your head. “No? And why did you wear them tonight?”
You shrug this time, acting innocent. The truth is they make you feel good about yourself. You feel pretty and hot with them. As you knew you were going to go out with them tonight, you wanted the confidence. But you weren’t going to admit that.
“Just a coincidence? Or did you wear them because you were gonna see us?” Eddie continues teasing you.
“What do you think?” you say against his lips, challenging him.
“I think you’re not as innocent as you seem right now” he confesses and it takes everything in you not to make him lay down now as you sit in top of him and see if he can still tease you that way. But you don’t, because you also want to focus on Steve.
“Stop it you two” Steve orders.
“Open your pretty legs, baby” Eddie changes the subject smirking as he moves to face your panties now.
Steve takes advantage of this and lays next to you as he starts kissing your neck.
Eddie finally takes your underwear off and you feel him kissing your thighs, traveling up.
You turn to kiss the boy next to you and he responds happily, caressing from your waist, to your back, your neck, your hair. Everywhere he can really.
Eddie’s kisses move to your cunt now, focusing on your clit and teasing your entrance with two of his fingers.
It’s harder to focus now, Eddie puts his mouth to good use when he’s not mocking you. He makes you feel so good, knowing exactly where and how to play with your pussy. This, added with the touches and kisses Steve leaves on your skin, making you burn.
You moan as you back to kissing Steve, one of your hands on his hair and the other on the hair of the boy kissing you lower. Pulling at each mane.
Eddie doesn’t even want to blink, looking at you both make out as you hide your moans on Steve’s mouth. He is enjoying your sweet taste and the beautiful view. Flickering his tongue quickly on your clit and then sucking on it, he enters two of his fingers in you, making you arch, he smirks against your pussy.
His tongue moves in sync with his fingers, picking a more urgent pace as he feels you clench. You separate from Steve as you keep moaning.
“Gonna cum, baby? Are you close?” the latter asks as he enjoys watching you like this.
“Yes, mmph” you let out pulling on the long set of hair and arching even more as you cum. Your legs try to close but Steve stops them before you succeed.
Eddie keeps licking your pussy for a few more seconds after you cum, to then get up triumphantly. Steve grabs the boy to give him another kiss, tasting you on his tongue. Both men moan at this.
While you catch your breath you see them as they undress each other completely. When they’re done, they look back at you.
“Do you want to keep going?” Eddie asks you and you tell them yes.
They make you sit in the middle on them, your back to Steve. Eddie kisses you and you still taste yourself a little, Steve kisses your whole back.
The tattooed boy steps back, and Steve slowly pushes you down, positioning you all on fours.
“If you want to stop at any time, please tell us. Okay?” He says in your ear and you nod.
You feel Eddie’s hand on your chin, making you look up. He kisses you again as you feel Steve positioning himself in your entrance.
“Can I, baby?” he checks one more time, and you give him the green light once again.
You moan in Eddie’s mouth as you feel Steve entering you. He’s big, really big, making you feel him everywhere.
Eddie kisses your check, jaw, and neck until you get used to Steve’s size. Then he gets up, and you’re now facing his belly.
Before either of them says anything, you understand what they want to do. You start kissing his happy trail down to his cock. He’s also very big, a little less thick than Steve, but definitely nothing for him to feel jealous of.
You feel Steve moving slow but deep inside you, and as he feels you getting more wet around him, he fastens his thrusts.
You start kissing Eddie’s head and licking his length for a few seconds just to tease him. Then you finally wrap your lips around him, slowly entering your mouth. He throws his head back, getting lost in the pleasure.
“Your mouth feels so good, princess, fuck” he curses.
Steve moves faster at this, “Pussy’s so good too, you’re just fucking perfect” he moans.
You moan with your mouth completely full, making Eddie grunt and wrap his hand in your hair, also preventing it from bothering you.
Both boys take pleasure on the view as well. Eddie can see Harrington with his mouth slightly open, letting some moans and curses out as he moves perfectly inside you. He can see your round ass and Steve’s hands gripping it harshly. Lastly, he can see your beautiful face in pleasure as you take all of him in your mouth. He wonders how he can be so fucking lucky to be living this, but wishes it never stops.
Steve watches your pussy take him expertly, from his tip until he feels his pelvis come in touch with your skin. He watches your ass all round and perfect in front of him; he can’t see your face, but he sees Eddie’s hand grip your hair tighter and tighter until his skin turns white. He watches the other boy’s tattooed chest and arms, with his head turning back in pleasure from time to time, showing his big neck.
“Fuck yes, just like that, princess” Eddie curses. And Steve smirks feeling you clench around him.
“She likes hearing you, Munson”
“Oh, do you now? You like me saying how good you’re taking me? Best fucking blowjob I’ve ever had” You feel a tingle of jealousy imagining him with another girl in her knees for him, you’ll find a way to bother him with that when your mouth is not completely full.
“Fuck, she really does” Steve snitches on you and Eddie laughs.
“Such a good play toy we have here for us, Harrington”
“Fucking right we do”
Eddie feels you whimper against him. You separate, taking him out of your mouth to breathe for a second.
“That’s good, catch your breath, sweetheart” he says as he brushes his thumb over your swollen lips.
“Fuck, Steve! Harder!” you take the advantage to tell him and he obeys, making you face the cushions now form how hard he’s thrusting in and out.
“I can feel how close you are, baby, cum for us” He orders now, sliding a hand to play with your clit.
“Oh, yes yees, just like that!” You grip the cushions hard as you let yourself come undone.
“Shit baby, you’re so hot” He moves harder and faster now, catching his climax.
He quickly takes himself out, stroking his cock fast until he cums on your back, cursing and moaning as he does.
He picks up his shirt and cleans you out as you catch your breath.
You feel Eddie now next to you again.
“You feel okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I’m really good” you comment, and you see he’s still hard.
“Eds” you get up to sit on his lap, but he stops you.
“Wait, hey. Do you want to keep going? We don’t have to?”
You roll your eyes playfully, still appreciating his concern, and you kiss him again.
He kisses you back so needy, grabbing you to sit on him and feeling you up.
He stops for a second and looks to the side of the room, Steve is sitting down watching you. Eddie signals the seat next to him, and Steve gets closer to you.
You go back to kissing Eddie, and Steve is kissing his neck.
Hands are everywhere, feeling each other’s bodies. You get up slightly and grab Eddie’s dick so you can sit on him.
“Oh, shit” he moans against Steve’s mouth. You move back and forth on him, Steve’s hands controlling your movements, helping you to ride Eddie.
“Oh fuuck” you moan arching my back.
“Sensitive baby?” Steve teases you and you nod.
“You feel so good, princess, holy shit” his head rests back on Steve’s shoulder. You both go to kiss and bite his neck, leaving marks behind just like the one’s Steve’s leaving on your hips from his tight grip.
“You feel so so good in me, baby” You tease him a little, whisper in his ear. “You both did, stretching me out so well, my big boys”
“Fuck- I- I’m not gonna last, I’m so close” He rests his head on your shoulder now, leaving bites and kisses.
“Cum with me Eds, I’m so close too” you jump faster now.
“Look at our little bunny here” Steve keeps teasing you both now, Eddie looks up at you and kisses you once again.
“Mhh, cum Eddie! Cum with me!” You tell him as you let go. He follows you right behind, grunting your name.
You stay like that with him, hugging each other. Steve gets up to grab a glass of water and a towel so he can clean you up once again.
He rests back on the couch next to you two.
“That was incredible” he comments.
“It really was” you say, turning your head to look at him, still resting with Eddie.
“You okay, Munson?” Steve checks since he stayed silent.
“I’m awesome man” he finally lets out. “and was incredible, indeed”
“You’re staying over? Don’t make me sleep alone now” you ask them.
“Of course, sweetheart”
“If you insist, princess”
You let out a small laugh, pleased with their answers.
“Let’s go to bed before we fall asleep on the couch” Steve orders.
And you sleep with one of them on each side, all cuddling together. You haven’t slept that good in a while.
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stevesbipanic · 6 months
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@steddiemicrofic prompt: fool, WC, 454, rating: G
Only fools fall for someone like Steve Harrington. You'd have to be foolish to fall for someone to kind and caring, someone who'd never let you feel unloved. Only fools would fall for that smile, those eyes, knowing love was being given freely yet not quite the one you wanted.
Only fools like Eddie Munson fell for straight boys like Steve Harrington.
"Eddie? You ok?"
Eddie was shaken from his bemoaning thoughts by the very boy that occupied them.
"Yeah, Stevie, sorry, spaced out for a second there."
There was that smile again, if Eddie dreamt hard enough he'd believe that smile was reserved just for him.
"We should have a signal for normal zoning out, please be advised no scary dreams or weird thoughts about clocks happening here," Steve laughed. It was nice being able to laugh about it, Vecna was dead a year now, they were safe and free.
How could he tell this beautiful boy that he had scary dreams every night of Steve hating him or weird thoughts about how his hair looked almost golden in the afternoon light. Eddie would be a fool to lose what he already had.
"I was thinking, maybe you wanted to go see a movie with me this Friday? We could stop by the diner and grab burgers too?" Steve looked nervous, why did he look nervous it wasn't like they'd never done those exact things together before.
"Of course, Stevie, that sounds great, as long as I'm not stealing you from some nice girl on date night."
Steve was blushing now, wait why was he blushing, had Eddie embarrassed him, did his date cancel?
"Um, actually, I was hoping maybe, it's ok if you don't, but um, fuck this was a dumb idea." Steve looked upset and if there was one thing in the world Eddie hated more than anything else it was Steve looking sad.
"Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong, what were you hoping?" Eddie could feel his foolish heart skip a beat at the impossible possibility of what Steve was trying to say.
Steve took a deep breath and Eddie felt those hazel eyes he loved so much look directly into his soul, "I was hoping you'd be my date, Eds."
Before Eddie's brain had a chance to panic his heart answered, "Stevie, there's nothing I'd rather do this Friday than be your date."
Only fools fell for someone like Steve Harrington, a boy that picks you up on time and holds your hand. You'd have to be foolish not to fall for a kiss goodnight at your door. Only fools fall for their best friend but Eddie thinks he wouldn't mind being a fool as long as he had his Stevie.
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bleedingoptimism · 6 months
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part one -> 📱💞🚙
The first video goes viral. They get a lot of new traffic on their page, and half of it gets curious about their music, and half of the curious ones even become fans. So the series is already a success with only one video out. 
In the second video, Eddie, still blushing but smiling cheekily introduces Steve, who is all smiles and sunshine wrapped up in muscle and tan skin and people eat it up.
Then the actual process begins, and it's genuinely informative and quite good, Steve really knows what he's doing and he seems to have a passion for it that makes his eyes shine whenever he's explaining to Eddie what they are doing and what for.
It’s also fairly comedic, the series. Eddie keeps tripping all over his own feet making funny remarks to make Steve laugh. They both work on the van, because Eddie wants to get his hands dirty too, so Steve stays close behind, whispering instructions and murmuring praises while he works that have Eddie sweating and blushing from things that are completely unrelated to the manual labor and looking at the camera like he’s in the office.
It becomes kind of a thing because Eddie knows Steve doesn't watch the videos and everyone already knows from the first video that Eddie has a little crush on him. So he thinks it is just innocent fun that when Steve is working and Eddie has the phone in his hands instead of the tripod, he sometimes zooms on his back, his arms, the sweat on his neck, and then back to his face, sighing and shaking his head slowly.
TikTokers even start shipping them, saying Eddie has very clear cat energy and Steve is the most golden retriever boyfriend-coded man on the planet.
But something shifts as the videos go on, Eddie’s quips are less jokey and more just pure admiration for Steve’s work. When they film a time-lapse the audience can see them working together, bumping shoulders, Steve looking at Eddie and looking away when Eddie looks at him. And when Eddie is filming there are no more jokes about him pining on camera. It is just scenes of Steve laughing, or just smiling, working while he whistles. Zooms of his eyes, his nose, the highlights on his hair, the way the moles on his cheek move when he smiles crookedly at something dumb Eddie says.
The whole series becomes a documentary about how Eddie fell in love with Steve and then… it's complete. It's done. The van is finished. Eddie films one last video thanking Steve for everything, and making one last flirty joke about taking him for a ride. Steve laughs and runs a hand through his hair, telling Eddie he’s welcome. And that is it. The series is done. 
It drives everyone insane because they love it of course, but also. Because it seems… unfinished. It's kind of a mess, Corroded fans are fighting the shippers and the shippers are accusing Eddie of queer bating, which he thinks it's fuckin hilarious and sad because it's his literal life they are talking about. 
But the truth is, there’s nothing more to tell. They had a real conversation after Eddie stopped filming, a proper thanks and hug goodbye. And then Steve just left. He never made a move. And Eddie tried, he really tried. He insinuated, flirted, complimented. But Steve was either not interested or completely clueless (probably because of how uninterested he was).
And now Eddie has a beautiful van, completely equipped for two people to travel in style. And no one to share it with. So he stays at home, wrapped up in a blanket and watching the comments on his tiktoks, laughing and then crying with the way people describe how palpable their chemistry is. And he misses Steve. He keens, he pins, he craves.
part three ->📱💞🚙
☕🥐💕 coffee? by the side of the road?
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Text
is it casual now?, pt. one
pt. two
dumb love, i love being stupid, dream of us in a year. maybe we’d have an apartment and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier. i know, “baby, no attachment,” but we’re… knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?
“but like… why not just tell him?” robin asks. they’re laying on their backs on steve’s floor, side by side, legs tangled together while a fleetwood record spins out the low sounds of stevie nicks’s voice. “you’re already banging, so what’s the point? you’re practically dating.”
“what? no.” steve replies, taking one last hit from the joint they’ve been passing back and forth before handing it back to robin so she can drop it into the ashtray near her elbow. “it’s not dating. it’s strictly sexual.”
“you’ve never in your life been strictly sexual with anyone,” robin snorts.
steve scowls. this is kind of a sore subject for him because yeah. he’s never done this casual thing before and he’s never really wanted to. he doesn’t even really want to now.
he’s silent for so long that robin’s perfectly capable of understanding exactly what he’s thinking. “oh,” she breathes out. “oh no.”
“stop, please. it was mutual.” steve doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.
“okay. yeah. sure.” steve hates how much she sounds like she’s trying to placate him.
“it’s really not a big deal. it’s fine. we’re having fun. i’m having fun.” steve’s embarrassed by how rehearsed he sounds.
“yeah, no, totally. for sure.”
they lay there without speaking again for a long time after that.
~*~
“god, you’re so cute, stevie, cooking me breakfast.” steve’s standing in front of the stove in his kitchen a few days later when eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, nuzzling into steve’s neck. steve can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.
“don’t get too used to it,” steve tells him, plating the first batch of french toast. “woke up early enough to eat before work for the first time in, like, three months.”
“well i appreciate it,” eddie says, letting steve turn in his arms. steve can’t help himself; he leans in for a kiss and eddie returns it enthusiastically.
eddie’s never spent the night like this before. usually he’s out of the house before steve wakes up in the morning. most of the time he leaves before they even have the chance to fall asleep together. steve tries not to take it too personally. eddie’s a busy guy and what they’re doing is nothing serious. eddie had been sure to make that clear the first few times they’d seen each other naked.
steve tries not to read too much into it as eddie takes the plate from his hands and pulls himself up to sit on the island countertop just across from where steve’s leaning next to the stove with his own plate. he tries not to get his hopes up but he can’t help the flutter in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach as they eat breakfast together before he has to go to work. he tries his best to ignore the pull he feels toward eddie, the way his hands itch to plant themselves on eddie’s hips and pull him in. he pushes down the disappointment that arises when eddie changes out of the sweats he’d clearly taken from steve’s dresser drawers and back into his own clothes. he ignores the tiny little pang in his chest when eddie says goodbye and leaves, even though steve has to leave for work in ten minutes anyway. he tries to ignore the little voice in his head that points out that eddie doesn’t even kiss him goodbye.
~*~
it goes on like that for a while. eddie starts spending enough nights at steve’s house that steve can’t help but become hopeful. he has his own green toothbrush sitting right next to steve’s red one on his bathroom sink. his hair has started to smell like steve’s shampoo. eddie’s stopped insisting that they’re just casual every time steve leans in for a kiss. sometimes they don’t even fuck, they just fall asleep together watching a movie, with the tv playing softly in the background.
steve’s not delusional. he knows that it’s not a relationship. but that hope is back and he’s helpless against its forces building inside him every time he says goodbye to eddie at his front door. his t-shirts have started going missing, ones with hawkins high emblazoned across the front, ones that he knows robin wouldn’t be caught dead in. eddie’s the only one who could be taking them, but steve can’t figure out why he’s being so secretive about it. he still hasn’t been able to catch him at it. but it has to mean something, right?
steve starts to let himself fantasize about what could happen if he just confessed to eddie. if he just admitted, once and for all, that he’d never wanted to do this whole friends with benefits thing that eddie’s been insisting on. he’s not totally sure that eddie would be a hundred percent receptive, but it’s only happening in his own brain, so he can have the ending he wants for now.
“jesus, dingus, what the hell is going on with you lately?” robin asks, sounding irritated as she comes to stand next to him behind the counter at family video. “i’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes.”
“what? sorry.” steve drags a hand across his face. “just thinking.”
“oh really,” robin snorts. “about what?”
“just…” steve sighs. “remember when we were talking a few months ago?”
robin raises her eyebrows at him.
“i mean, you know. about eddie.” his voice drops into a whisper at the end, as if eddie might be hiding behind one of the vhs displays, even though it’s a tuesday morning and the two of them are alone in the store.
“oh. yes. i remember.” robin sounds just a tiny bit apprehensive.
“well… i think something’s changed.”
“changed? how?”
“i mean, he’s started sleeping over my house a lot more. sometimes we don’t even… you know. have sex.” he whispers the last two words, looking over his shoulder. “i think he’s stealing my t-shirts.”
“okay,” robin draws out the second syllable, elongating the ‘a’ sound, making it clear that steve has to be a bit more specific.
“do you think he… i don’t know. do you think maybe he wants something more? like, maybe to date? or like, whatever.” steve runs a hand through his hair nervously. this is the first time he’s admitting he wants something more out loud.
robin considers for a long moment. “honestly, i don’t know. i’ve never made it past kissing anyone before.” steve’s shoulders slump. “but there’s only one real way to find out.”
“how?” steve grunts, even though he already knows the answer.
“you gotta talk to him, man.” steve groans. “i know, dingus. it sucks.” she reaches out to rub his back, an attempt at comfort.
it almost works.
~*~
steve thinks about it for a few days. about three weeks ago, eddie had started kissing him goodbye every time they parted ways at steve’s front door and he hasn’t missed a goodbye kiss yet. that has to mean something. it has to.
it’s a movie night—eddie’s choice—when steve finally gathers the courage to say something to him.
“can i talk to you?” steve says, sounding far more confident than he actually feels. he’s pulled his legs up under himself on the couch and turned sideways to stare at eddie’s profile.
“um, yeah,” eddie replies a bit distractedly, eyes glued to the tv screen as he reaches for the remote next to him. he pauses the film and only then does he turn to face steve. he smiles, dimples showing. “what’s up, stevie? i don’t pause the thing for just anyone.”
that makes steve feel a little less nervous. it feeds the hope in his chest. he runs a hand through his hair. “okay, well. i was thinking about, like, what we’re doing.”
“what we’re doing?” eddie tilts his head to the side just a little, looking confused.
“yeah, like. you know. you’ve said you want to keep things casual but i was thinking that maybe we could…” steve trails off, unsure of how to continue.
“we could…?” eddie prompts, but he’s starting to look a little apprehensive.
“i mean, i know you said that you don’t really do the non-casual type of thing or whatever, but i was thinking like. i don’t know, that we could, like, go on a date? maybe?” steve hates how unsure he sounds at the end, how his voice turns up at the end.
eddie just looks at him for a long moment. “i thought we were on the same page, steve.”
okay, he’s not ‘stevie’ anymore, but maybe this is just a miscommunication.
“we were,” steve responds, swallowing hard. “i mean, we are. i think.” then he corrects himself. “or, uh, thought.” he looks down at his hands for a second and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i really like you, eddie. and i want… i don’t know what i want but i know that i like you a lot. and i don’t want to be just friends who sleep together.”
“so,” eddie speaks slowly, still looking just a bit confused, “you don’t want to sleep together anymore.” he doesn’t really say it like a question, more like he’s not really all that surprised.
“no, i mean…” steve’s feeling just a little frustrated with himself. “i like that part. that part’s, like, really good. i just… i want more than that.” he runs his hand through his hair again. “i… i guess want to be your boyfriend.”
eddie laughs then and it makes steve’s chest feel hollow. eddie must see something on steve’s face because his laugh cuts off abruptly. “sorry, man. you’re serious?” eddie sounds almost disbelieving. steve can only nod, his throat tight. he definitely does not want to cry in front of eddie right now. “oh. well. um. i don’t really…” steve’s heart drops and the little bubble of hope that had been building since that first time eddie had stayed for breakfast abruptly bursts. “i’m sorry, dude, i genuinely thought we were on the same page. i’m not—that’s just—” eddie clears his throat. “that’s just not really something i want.”
steve has nothing to say to that. he supposes that eddie had been honest from the beginning and that he was the one who hadn’t been truthful so he can’t even really be mad.
“right,” steve responds, avoiding eddie’s eyes. “sure, okay.”
“i think i’m gonna go for now. but i’ll see you around, okay, stevie?” steve’s eyes snap up to eddie’s face and eddie’s eyes are wide and panicked. he looks like a cornered deer. a part of steve can’t help but feel sorry for putting that look on eddie’s face.
“yeah, okay. see you.” steve tries to smile at him, maybe to reassure him, but eddie doesn’t even look at him as he gathers his shoes and keys before leaving.
once eddie’s gone, steve sits there for a long moment, wondering where he’d gone wrong. maybe he should have waited until a little bit later, when they were upstairs tangled up together and he could distract eddie with kisses. maybe he should have waited until breakfast, when eddie’s soft and sweet, warm from sleep. maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
steve turns off the tv and goes upstairs to bed alone for the first time in a while.
there’s a part two already half written so no worries, i only write happy endings (except that one time).
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hairmetal666 · 7 months
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He hates Steve Harrington, everything about him. His stupid, upbeat pop music. His tall fucking hair. His annoyingly bright clothes. His bullshit German luxury car.
Eddie hates that Steve's a good guy. Hates that he carried Eddie's broken and dying body out of hell. Hates that the kids love him how they do. Hates that he and Robin Buckley are the kind of best friends who might as well be siblings. Hates the way that Jonathan is back and Nancy is happy, and Steve has no resentment about any of it. Hates that he'll never, for as long as he lives, forget about six kids and a Winnebago.
And he hates, more than anything of all, the way he's always finding himself in Steve's bed. The way he falls apart when Steve is deep inside, the way he begs for more, pleads for Steve to wreck him. The way Steve treats him so good that it makes him sob.
Eddie hates himself for not being able to stop. For wanting Steve so much that sometimes he feels it as a visceral ache in the back of his molars. He hates himself for how little fight his dumb traitor heart puts into not being astronomically down bad in love with the guy immediately.
And none of this is supposed to flow from his brain to his tongue to out of his mouth, but Steve fucks him so good and slow--gives him the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life--that it all just slips out of the safe confines of his mind.
"I fucking hate you," he says. Or pants, more like, he's all flushed and sweaty and covered in come, not yet settled back to himself.
"W-what?" Steve stutters. He's standing at the edge of the bed, damp towel clenched in his fist.
True, full consciousness strikes then and he doesn't know what else to say. Steve's big eyes are wide and sad, and Eddie's brain is screaming at him to fix it, and isn't that just another thing that he hates?
"Steve. Like. Fucking look at yourself, man." He waves his hand up Harrington's perfect body. "You're the most beautiful fucking thing in the universe. And you--you embody like every fucking thing I'm supposed to hate with your money and your athletic ability, and your whole goddamn clean-cut All-American boy next door bullshit. And I--I keep ending up here when everything in me says to run away, that this--you--are too good to be fucking true."
And Steve, he's pinching the bridge of his nose, looking more than anything like he's trying not to burst into tears and this--this cannot be borne.
"I love you so fucking much." His voice cracks and he reaches out to circle his fingers around Steve's wrist, the one holding the towel. "I love you so much and I don't deserve even a second of it. Not a minute. Because you're Steve Harrington, you're--"
Steve presses his hand (he hates the the wide palms and long fingers, how they're perfect, how they hold him and comfort him and wring out pleasure again and again like it's nothing, like Steve's hands were made for making Eddie come) over Eddie's mouth. "Shut-up, Munson," he says.
"I fucking hate you too." There's ease in the way he says it, a lightness in his eyes. "I hate that you don't use conditioner. I hate that your van makes that turkey gobble sound every time you turn a corner, and you refuse to let me look at it. I hate how loud you play your music, how it makes my fucking skin shake. I hate when you forget to take the damn chains off your jeans when you put them in the wash."
Steve climbs into bed, straddling him, towel long forgotten. "You know what else I fucking hate, Eddie?" He leans down, ghosting his lips against the tip of Eddie's nose, skimming his mouth. "I hate that I've never loved anyone like I love you. I hate that I almost fucking lost you. I hate that we can't spend every minute in this goddamn bed, so I can memorize every inch of your skin, every sound you make, every single way I tear you apart, and all of the things that put you back together. I love you, Ed. Every fucking terrible part."
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 10 months
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Steve knows the kids don't mean it when they make him feel stupid. Mostly because they're just as dumb as they are smart. If they were curious enough, they'd stick a fork in an outlet. That's what Steve was for, and he's okay with looking out for them until they realize they can start doing it for themselves. They're learning. . .slowly.
Of course, Eddie doesn't realize this until after Vecna, and he's running around like a chicken with his head cut off and he's trying to stop Max from smothering Mike with a pillow in his sleep. Suddenly, he's a stressed-out dad smoking on the back porch at the homecoming party they've thrown at the Munson's new home. He's watching them run around the backyard, looking tired, and Wayne is laughing at him.
"It's not funny," Eddie muttered. "I love those kids but they're going to make me go gray."
"Or lose your hair," Wayne said in amusement.
"Don't even joke about that," Eddie said.
"Got you something, boy," Wayne said and handed him a small box.
Eddie opened it up to reveal a world's greatest dad mug. He looked up to find Wayne drinking out of a world's greatest grandpa mug.
"Seriously? Did you buy that for yourself?" Eddie asked.
"Yep."
Steve came out on the porch, drinking out of a world's greatest mom mug.
"Not you too," Eddie said.
"I think it's funny," Joyce said from beside Hopper.
"Even if it's about one of your kids?" Eddie asked, and she just grinned.
"You know, I think Will and El are the only ones we don't have to worry about," Steve grinned, sitting next to Eddie. "They're angels."
"That's true. . .wait, what's Max doing to Mike?" Eddie asked.
"Well, it looks like Mike has fallen asleep in the grass, and Max is. . .Max is giving Mike a free haircut," Steve said as he sipped his coffee.
"Yeah, I figured that was coming when Mike said skateboarding is stupid," Hopper said.
"You knew Max would cut his hair?" Eddie asked.
"You gave her the scissors, didn't you?" Steve asked.
Hopper stared off in the distance as he sipped his own cup of coffee. Joyce looked at her husband in horror.
"Hop!"
"Should we stop him?" Eddie asked.
"Nah," Steve said.
"What did he say to you?" Eddie asked.
"Well, Dustin joked about us acting like a married couple, and Mike said that I would never marry you in a million years," Steve scoffed and looked at Eddie seriously. "I would marry you in a heartbeat, baby."
Mike yawned and stretched, his brows furrowing.
"Does anyone else feel a breeze?" Mike asked.
"He's looking this way," Eddie said with a grin. "May I kiss you in front of everyone?"
"Absolutely," Steve said with a grin.
Eddie leaned forward and captured Steve’s lips with his.
"Finally," Robin said, coming out of the house.
She was sipping on a mug filled with tea. On the mug, it said: world's worst godmother. Dustin came out a moment later wearing a hat that said: world's loudest child. Eddie glanced at Wayne with an amused look.
"You really went all out, huh?" Eddie asked.
"We had plenty of hush money," Wayne shrugged.
As Max wondered inside, she handed Dustin a pair of scissors.
"What am I supposed to do with these?" He asked.
"Oh my God! My hair!" Mike shrieked. "Henderson! You're dead!"
"It wasn't me, I swear!" Dustin exclaimed and ran off when Mike started chasing him.
"Dustin! You butthead!" Eddie exclaimed. "No running with scissors!"
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