#i want steve so bad

[lazylittledragon]

bringing back stobin + unus annus!!

i can't count how many people wanted this one

[yudol-skorbi]

this concept is so funny to me like s1 steddie fucking hilarious eddie would have the most embarrassing crush on the worst human being ever (in his opinion) and would be SO ANGRY about it

part 2

part 3

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, posting to TikTok: Look, I love my husband. I adore this man and I have for the majority of my life. He is the shining star in my sky.

Eddie: And I know. I know he wants to read more this year. And I know that when you’re dyslexic, it can be really difficult and I’m happy every time he accomplishes what he wants but…

*Flips camera to show Steve reading on the other side of the couch*

Eddie, gesturing: What kind of demented book handling is this? That book is bent in half. It’s a hardback!

[jjkyaoi]

the “eddie’s love language is being insufferably annoying” and “steve acts like he’s annoyed with it but he could not be more fascinated with this little freak” steddie dynamic multiple ao3 authors have given me is the dynamic of the Ever

[findafight]

We haven't seen much of El and Steve interact because they'd be too powerful. Steve "acquires little siblings without really trying" Harrington and El "gets parents and brothers almost instantly" Hopper would see each other like

And be immediately glued to each other through mutual sibling collector syndrome.

[trans-top-stede]

I just saw a gifset of this scene and I'm sorry but I always forget how hard Ed is giving Stede the ol' bedroom eyes here and Stede is just like "gosh it's nice to help my good friend Edward with something he couldn't possibly have done himself 🙂"

[djo]

STEVE HARRINGTON Stranger Things | 4.09: The Piggyback

[unspecifiedfigure]

he has something to prove

[ghosttotheparty]

lonely with you

part two also on ao3 cw: alcohol; weed; panic attack; nsfw

“Hey, uhm. Can we talk for a minute?”

Eddie pauses as he rummages through his bag, crouched on the floor as he shoves the worksheet he just got to the bottom of his bag. (He’ll probably forget about it. Again.) He looks up to find Steve Harrington standing over him, looking down at him with an almost anxious look in his eye.

“Uh.” Eddie pauses, looking him up and down. “Sure?”

“Like…”

Steve gestures with a tilt of his chin down the hall, toward the bathroom. Eddie glances down the hall, his hand still in his bag, and then he nods, zipping his bag up and tossing it over his shoulder as he follows him down the hall.

Steve’s hair moves while he walks, almost bouncing with each step. It’s shiny. It’s so much healthier than Eddie’s is. It looks soft.

Eddie pushes the thought away as the door shuts behind them as Steve turns to look at him after checking to make sure there’s no one in the stalls. His arms are crossed over his chest like he’s defensive, like he’s hiding, and he leans against the wall by the sinks.

“I don’t have anything on me today,” Eddie says, dropping his bag. “I can take an order and get back to you, or…”

He trails off when he sees the confusion flicker in Steve’s eyes, and then Steve blinks.

“That’s not… Uhm. What I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. “Okay. What’s going on, then?” He leans against the wall across from him, pushing his hands into his pockets as he eyes him confusedly. He’s never had an actual conversation with Steve Harrington, nothing beyond weed or pills exchanged for cash at parties, but Steve has always been different from the others that Eddie sold to. He always smiled. Nobody else ever smiles, not unless they’re already high. But Steve, fully sober, always, always gives Eddie this soft, kind, friendly smile that always lingers in Eddie’s mind afterwards.

It’s not that he has a crush. Steve Harrington is attractive, Eddie knows that. Everyone knows that. He’s Steve Harrington. But Eddie apparently has a little bit of a soft spot for anyone that’s kind of him, anyone that smiles at him like he’s just a person instead of the local druggie, weirdo, freak. And apparently anyone is just Steve.

“Uh.” Steve hesitates, lifting a hand and biting his thumbnail anxiously, looking at the floor. “I’ve heard some, uhm. Rumors. About you.”

Eddie blinks, raising an eyebrow. There are lots of rumors about him.

“That you’re…” Steve continues, his eyes shining brightly, nervously. He’s shaking a little bit. “That you’re— you’re queer?”

Eddie blinks again.

His stomach twists, and part of him wants to snap at him. Fuck you, Harrington. Because the last boy that pulled him aside and brought that rumor up, that asked if it’s true, just had Eddie kneel on the floor and suck him off before he left. Eddie liked it, liked the weight of his dick in his mouth, the feeling of his fingers in his hair, but he didn’t like the way the boy coldly said Keep your mouth shut about this as though Eddie would have told anyone. And he didn’t like the way the boy barely looked at him ever again, except when he bought from him in front of his friends, and he didn’t like the way the next time Eddie tried to talk to him he snapped at him that it was a one-time thing.

I’m not— I’m not like you. I just wanted to get off.

Eddie wants to walk past Steve, to let the door slam behind him, because he never wants another boy to look at him like that again. Disgusted. Like he didn’t ask for it. Like he didn’t beg for it.

But Steve is staring at him, unblinking, his eyes shining so brightly it looks like he might start crying, and he’s shaking, and Eddie is saying, “Yeah,” before he can say anything.

“Is it… Is it true?” Steve asks quietly, whispering.

“Yeah,” Eddie says.

Yeah.

He’s never said it out loud before. That he’s gay. Queer.

He never had to say it out loud to Wayne. He knew the day Eddie moved in with him, murmured that everything was okay as he put the colourful band-aid on his face.

Steve exhales. He nods. Looks at the ground.

Eddie waits. It’s quiet in the bathroom, and one of the sinks is dripping, the quiet tap tap tap tap tap echoing in the tile room.

“Why do you ask?” Eddie asks after a long minute. Steve lifts his head. His lips are pressed together, and he looks away from Eddie as a tear falls down his cheek. “Whoa, what’s wrong?” Eddie says, panicking a little, standing up straight off the wall he’s leaning on and moving a little bit closer. “Are you okay?”

“I—” Steve wipes his face quickly, and Eddie’s stomach twists again. “I think I might… be like you.”

Eddie freezes, looking at him.

“Like me,” he repeats slowly. Steve nods, blinking tears out of his eyes, and he looks so… scared. Eddie’s whole body hurts. “Oh.”

“I just… I’m kind of freaking out about it, and I— I don’t know what to do, and I didn’t know who to talk to about it, but I needed to…”

“It’s cool,” Eddie says reassuringly, trying to smile. “Steve, it’s fine, man, alright? I won’t tell anyone.”

Steve nods, squeezing his eyes shut and wiping his face again. Eddie steps past him into a stall and grabs some toilet paper, bunching it up before he gives it to him, and Steve takes it with a quiet, “Thank you,” and then a muttered apology.

“You don’t have to be sorry, man,” Eddie says softly. “It’s cool.”

Steve uses the paper to wipe his face. His cheeks are pink, and they redden more as he rubs tears off his skin too roughly. Eddie kind of wants to take over, to wipe his tears softly, gently, the way he deserves. He doesn’t.

“It’s…” He hesitates. Steve looks at him. “It’s cool to… know there’s someone else. That gets it.”

Steve nods, half-smiling.

It’s quiet for a moment as he sniffles, looking at the ground again, at his clean white sneakers next to Eddie’s dirty black chucks. Eddie reaches out for him hesitantly, touching his forearm, and he pulls gently. Steve falls against him easily, and their arms wrap around each other tightly. They sway slightly, quiet as they embrace each other, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut.

“Steve,” he says after a few moments. “You listening?”

“Yeah?”

Eddie pulls back enough to look at him, holding his shoulders firmly. Steve’s hands find his forearms, gentle and tentative. Eddie hesitates for a moment before he speaks.

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says firmly. Steve’s lip quivers. “You understand me?” he says quietly, leaning closer as he speaks, and Steve’s hands tighten on his arms. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Okay,” Steve says weakly.

“Okay,” Eddie repeats softly, He squeezes Steve’s shoulders.

The bell rings as Steve is taking a deep breath, and Eddie pauses as he watches Steve lean down to pick up his bag. He looks tired now, drained and exhausted, but he isn’t crying anymore.

“Uh, hey,” Eddie says before he can leave. Steve looks at him. “...You know where I live, right? Cherry Lane?” Steve nods, looking at him curiously. “...Do you wanna come over tonight? Just to— to talk about it?”

Steve’s lips twitch into a smile, and he nods.

“Thank you,” he says quietly before he leaves.

Eddie leans against the wall Steve had been leaning on, sighing heavily and rubbing his face. He drops his hands after a moment, and he feels different. Lighter. He can’t place exactly what it is that’s different now, but he turns to look in the mirror to see if he looks any different. He doesn’t. Still messy-haired, still weird. He picks his bag up off the ground and leaves.

— — — — —

Wayne leaves for work just as Eddie is getting home, and he pauses in the living room as Eddie is nudging his boots out of the way to ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead. Eddie swats him away, pretending he doesn’t love it. Wayne’s done it since Eddie was a kid, since before he moved in with him. Even Eddie’s own parents never showed him affection like this, but Wayne always did, on his way in and his way out of Eddie’s parents’ house. Eddie always looked forward to it. Now it’s daily, a regular standard for what makes a good day. When Eddie misses him on his way to work he misses it.

Eddie waits in the living room, laying upside down on the sofa with a book above his head. He’s changed into sweatpants and an old sweatshirt that’s stained with bleach, the dark fabric reddish-orange in spots. His hair is falling from the bun he tied it up in as he turns the pages slowly, tapping his feet in time with the music that’s playing from the boombox in the corner. (They got it from one of the neighbors that moved away two years ago; Eddie loves it with all his heart.)

He scrambles up when there’s a knock on the door, stumbling over his own feet and dropping the book. He stoops to pick it up, losing his page, just before he opens the door to find Steve, wide-eyed.

“You okay?” Steve asks, glancing at Eddie’s messy hair.

“I’m very clumsy,” Eddie says, remembering how thin the walls in, and he steps aside, gesturing with the book. “Come on in.”

“I’m aware,” Steve says, stepping past him. “We had gym together last year, it was like watching a baby giraffe learn to walk.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says, shutting the door, snorting as Steve shoots him an amused look, and they fall quiet as Steve looks around the living room and kitchen. “Uh, it’s not much, but…”

“I like it,” Steve says. He seems to sense Eddie’s disbelief, and he shoots him another look. “I’m serious. It’s nice.” He looks back around. “It looks like you actually live here. My place looks like a goddamn catalogue set.” He wanders slowly, eyes scanning Wayne’s hats and mugs, the stains on the walls. “White walls, white carpets.”

“No childhood mudstains?” Eddie asks, leaning against the table by the door.

“Once,” Steve says, pausing to read one of the trucker hats, smiling absently. “Dad beat the shit outta me and the carpets were replaced within the next three days.”

Eddie blinks, and Steve pauses again, seemingly realizing what he’s just said. He turns a little, his face pink as he looks at Eddie.

“Anyway.”

Eddie scoffs at the lightness of his tone.

“You want a beer?” he asks, heading to the kitchen, wondering what he did in his life to deserve this, Steve Harrington exploring his living room like it’s a fine arts exhibit, like it’s a gallery.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Eddie gets two beers from the fridge and cracks them open with the bottle opener magnet before he passes one to Steve over the sink, and then he beckons with a tilt of his head.

“Think you might like my room,” he says, leading him down the hall.

“Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Hah.” Eddie ignores the way his face flushes with heat, but Steve doesn’t say anything else before they’re in Eddie’s room, and Eddie moves out of the way as Steve lets out an earnest, “Whoa.”

Eddie grins, taking a sip of his beer as Steve looks, wide-eyed, around the room. The music is still playing in the living room.

Now the tears, they fall like rain I'm alone again without you

Steve wanders slowly, looking at the posters on the walls, the drawings and ripped-out magazine pages, the faded photographs and newspaper clippings, the CORRODED COFFIN tapestry, the guitars. He looks like he’s in awe, almost smiling as he gazes at everything.

“I like it,” he says finally, turning to look at Eddie, who’s sitting on the edge of his bed, and Eddie quirks his eyebrows at him. Steve rolls his eyes and sips his beer, moving to sit on the floor, looking around again, this time at Eddie’s bed and the posters above it, at the mess on Eddie’s nightstand. Eddie slides off the bed onto the floor in front of him.

They’re quiet for a moment. Steve crosses his legs and draws his knees to his chest like he’s trying to shrink in on himself, and it feels odd to see the King like this, small and vulnerable and quiet.

“How did you know that you’re, uhm…” Steve trails off nervously, his lips brushing the top of his bottle.

“You can say gay, Steve,” Eddie says quietly. “‘S not a bad word.”

Steve glances at him.

“How did you know that you’re gay?” he asks. His voice is tentative, soft.

“Don’t think I ever really realized it,” Eddie says. “I think I just kind of always knew. I realized it wasn’t… I don’t know. Normal, I guess. When I was, like, thirteen.”

Steve is listening intently, looking at Eddie over his bottle and his knees, and his eyes are shining in that way again, bright and nervous and shy, and Eddie wonders how this boy in front of him ever became the King of Hawkins High when he’s looking at him like this.

“I kept quiet about it,” Eddie says, sensing that Steve doesn’t have anything to say. “After my dad found out, he… He wasn't happy. Wayne doesn’t mind. We don’t really talk about it, but…”

“How does he know?” Steve asks quietly. Eddie tilts his head.

“Dear old Dad had some choice words to say about me the next time Wayne came to visit. I went home with him that day. I was fifteen. And then the next year, Ma and Dad left town.”

Steve blinks his pretty eyes.

“‘M sorry.”

Eddie shrugs.

“Nothing to be sorry about. I don’t miss them.” He pauses, sipping his beer, then lifts his chin at Steve. “How’d you realize?” he asks, avoiding The Word, because it’s Steve Harrington. Notorious ladies’ man.

Steve shrugs shyly, looking down at the bottle in his hands.

“I don’t think I ever really liked girls,” he says quietly. “I only went out with them after I knew they liked me. I can tell when they’re flirting with me, and it just kind of… I don’t know. Felt like an obligation. I’d get them off if they wanted, but I think they could tell I wasn’t really into it, so we just kind of… Went on.”

Eddie blinks, a little surprised. Steve is still staring at the bottle, his eyes glazed over, and he speaks again, his voice soft like he doesn’t realize he’s speaking out loud.

“I could never get hard. Thought there was something wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Steve,” Eddie says gently. Steve looks at him, his eyes wide like he’s startled, and then he looks away again, his gaze aimless as he looks at the ground. “...Steve?”

Steve takes a shuddering breath.

“...I think I’m dying,” he says so quietly Eddie almost doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking now, the bottle moving with them, and when his eyes find Eddie’s again, shining with panic and unshed tears, Eddie realizes what’s happening. He reaches out to take the bottle as he sets his own aside.

“You’re not dying, sweetheart,” he says quietly, setting Steve’s bottle aside and moving a little closer. “You’re okay.”

Steve takes a sharp breath, and his eyes flicker back and forth between Eddie’s.

“My heart’s beating too fast,” he says weakly, panting, and Eddie’s chest aches at the fear in his eyes.

“I know,” he whispers, moving forward to touch him, pressing a hand firmly over his chest, over his heart. “It’ll slow down if you slow your breathing, okay?”

“Eddie—”

“Slowly,” Eddie says softly, nodding. “Breathe with me, you got it.” He inhales slowly, watching the way Steve’s eyes lower to watch his mouth. Steve’s hands raise a little bit, reaching for Eddie before they fall. “You can touch me,” Eddie says. “‘S alright.”

Steve’s hands find Eddie’s arms as his legs fall, and he pulls, closing his eyes as he tries to breathe slowly.

“You want me to come closer?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods.

Eddie shifts closer, moving so he can put his legs around him, and Steve clutches at his arms.

“I can’t breathe,” he chokes, opening his eyes to look at Eddie desperately. Tears fall down his cheeks as he gasps for breath.

“Yes, you can,” Eddie says softly, reaching with his other hand to wipe his face, and one of Steve’s hands jumps to it. Eddie thinks he’s about to swat it away, but he holds it to himself, closing his eyes again. Eddie brushes his thumb over his cheek. “Slowly, Stevie, inhale.”

Steve inhales, hiccupping and gasping, and Eddie presses against his heart.

“Hold it for a moment… And out. There you go,” he murmurs, watching the way Steve’s brows furrow in effort, watching the way he’s holding Eddie’s wrist tightly, his fingertips pressing into the fabric of Eddie’s sweatshirt. “Again, in, slow…”

He does it with him, guiding, demonstrating, blowing his hair out of his face as he exhales, and Steve’s breaths slow after a few minutes. His grip on Eddie’s wrist loosens, and he blinks his eyes open. Eddie brushes his thumb over his cheek.

“Alright?” he whispers.

“Sorry,” Steve says softly, turning his face into Eddie’s hands.

“Don’t,” Eddie whispers. “It’s okay.”

Steve takes a long, slow, breath, shuddering. Eddie moves a little closer without letting go of his face. He moves his other hand down, running over Steve’s waist before it rests on his leg.

“I’m…” Steve looks at him, his eyes glistening. “I’m so scared, Eddie,” he says weakly, his voice wavering. Eddie’s chest clenches.

“I know,” he whispers.

“I think— I think if my dad finds out, he’ll actually kill me, I—” He gasps, and Eddie leans in, his own eyes stinging.

“Hey, listen to me,” he says softly. “He won’t find out, okay? This is just between us.”

Steve sniffles, looking at him.

“You know how good I am at keeping secrets?” Eddie says, and Steve laughs wetly, reaching to wipe his face, but Eddie beats him to it. “No one else has to know,” he murmurs. “You’re safe here, Steve.”

Steve closes his eyes, and Eddie holds his face between his hands. They’re quiet for a moment, and Steve touches his wrists, running his hands down to squeeze his forearms like he’s grounding himself. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

“Why do I feel so…” He pauses, furrowing his brows again like he’s uncomfortable, like something is poking him. “Why do I feel so… dirty?” he whispers.

Eddie’s chest aches. He’s familiar with the feeling, the filth of existing.

“You’re not dirty,” he whispers back. “That’s how they want you to feel.”

Steve looks at him. Eddie pauses, swallowing, and his throat is tight now, because he’s never to explain this out loud, any of this. These thoughts that occurred to him late at night as he stared up at the ceiling in the dark, these thoughts that he wanted to whisper to the moon but was too scared to say out loud. He used to think saying it all out loud would make it real, but he knows now that it doesn’t matter how loud it all is. It’s real even when it’s just in his head. It was real before he was even born.

And he realizes at this moment, as he holds Steve’s face tenderly, as he feels Steve’s fingers press into his forearms and watches another tear slip over his fingers on Steve’s cheek, the feeling that he felt earlier today when Steve left him in the bathroom. The shift he felt under his skin like his cells were moving into place, like he has a whole new body.

Nothing is different, not really.

He just isn’t lonely anymore.

It’s like his body knows there’s someone else in this stupid fucking town that knows how he feels. Someone that matches him.

And he gets to say this out loud now. It’s not as scary when there’s someone to hear it. Someone to understand it.

“They make us out to be…” He pauses, licking his lips as he thinks. “These… filthy, perverted monsters. They talk about us and lie about us and make shit up about us being weird freaks, which, I mean, me personally, I guess it fits,” he says, his chest tightening when Steve half-smiles, scoffing. “But you, Steve Harrington,” he says, shaking Steve’s head lightly, making his smile widen, “are an upstanding citizen.”

“I buy drugs from you,” Steve says, leaning forward, and Eddie laughs lightly.

“You are not my most frequent customer.”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, but Eddie is still holding his face. He doesn’t let go.

“You are a good person, Steve Harrington,” he says quietly.

“You hardly know me,” Steve whispers.

Eddie looks at him. At his eyes. They’re hazel up close. Specked with green and brown and gold. He looks at the spots on his skin. Eddie wants to memorize them like constellations. There are tears caught in his eyelashes, and his nose and cheeks are rosy, and Eddie’s stomach flips over as he realizes just how beautiful he is. Not just hot, or attractive, but… Pretty. Lovely.

“You always smile at me when you pay me,” Eddie says softly, absently. “No one ever does that unless they’re high. But you smile every time.”

Steve blinks. Smiles. He has a beautiful smile.

“That makes me good?”

“That makes you better than the others,” Eddie whispers. “Makes you my favorite.”

Steve’s cheeks turn pink. Eddie smiles, brushing his thumbs over them.

“Tell me about you,” he says softly. “I wanna know you.”

Steve's smile falls. He’s quiet for a moment, running his hands over Eddie’s forearms before they fall to rest on his legs, and then his fingers play absently with the folds of his sweatpants.

“I’m lonely,” he says after a few moments, breathing the words quietly. “All the time. When I’m with my friends, when I’m at parties or at basketball practice or at games, I’m… I always feel like I’m hiding.” Eddie brushes his thumbs over his cheeks, listening. “I feel like I’m some… statue. Dressed as me, and— and pretending to be me, but no one really knows me.” He closes his eyes, turning his face into Eddie’s palm, leaning closer, pressing his hands over Eddie’s legs, and his voice shakes as he speaks again. “...I’m so lonely.”

“Me too,” Eddie whispers.

Steve sighs quietly, and he opens his eyes finally, looking at him.

“Can we be lonely together?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “I’d like that.”

Steve smiles, and then he closes his eyes, turning his face into Eddie’s palm again and sighing. Eddie gazes at him, and something settles in his chest. Something different than before.

— — — — —

“Have you ever kissed a boy?” Steve asks later as he passes the joint back to Eddie. They’re still on the floor, but they’ve moved to sit across from each other, Eddie with his back against the bed, Steve with his back against his dresser. Their empty beer bottles are on the ground with them, one of them knocked over, and the room is dim, lit up by the golden glow of the lamps next to Eddie’s bed. Steve bites into a red Twizzler as Eddie shakes his head, taking a hit.

“I’ve touched a few dicks,” he says, and Steve snorts, his eyes squinting as he giggles, chewing, holding the rest of the Twizzler in his hand. He’s so cute. “Sucked a grand total of two.”

“Was it nice?” Steve asks. Eddie shrugs, taking another drag.

“Was nice until they both insisted they’re not gay.”

“I’m assuming these were separate occasions,” Steve says, reaching for the joint.

“No, the three of us had a conference actually,” Eddie says sarcastically, and Steve rolls his eyes, taking a drag, and Eddie smiles, watching him. “Have you ever kissed a boy?” he asks.

Steve shakes his head, exhaling the smoke slowly.

“Kissed plenty of girls,” he says quietly. “But I assume they’re different.”

Eddie watches him take another drag, hesitating before he decides to just do it.

“Do you want to?”

Steve looks at him, his eyes flickering across his face as he exhales again, and then he nods. Eddie smiles, beckoning with a tilt of his head.

Steve puts the joint out in the ashtray that’s between them before he moves closer, sitting in front of Eddie, who sits up straight. Their knees touch when Steve crosses his legs, and they both pause, just looking at each other quietly.

“Okay?” Eddie whispers. Steve nods.

They pause again, and it’s awkward, and then they’re both giggling, quiet and muffled like they’re children at a sleepover, staying up past their bedtime.

And then they’re leaning in, and Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, and their smiling lips press together.

Steve is so soft.

All of him.

His hair, his face, his lips, his heart.

And he touches Eddie like he’s soft too, like he’s fragile. Steve touches his face, his fingers touching his cheeks before he’s holding them in his palms, tilting his head as his lips part. He tastes like artificial strawberries, and Eddie wants to kiss him until the taste fades.

Slowly, Eddie reaches out to him, finding his waist as Steve’s teeth catch his lower lip, and he pulls at him. Steve lifts onto his knees without pulling away, still kissing Eddie (kissing Eddie), and he holds Eddie’s jaw to tilt his head back, holding him in place. Eddie suppresses a shiver, his body tensing, when Steve’s tongue slips across his lower lip.

Steve pulls back, and Eddie tries to follow, exhaling as he lifts his chin. He opens his eyes blearily, looking up at him. His eyes are glassy, shining as he looks at Eddie, as he caresses his face, and a moment later, his lips spread into a slow smile. Eddie smiles weakly, hands holding Steve’s soft waist.

Steve leans back down and kisses him again, sliding a hand up into his hair to hold the back of his head, and Eddie exhales roughly, his hands tightening on Steve’s waist and pulling him closer. Steve pulls away to look down as he reaches down and pulls at Eddie’s leg so he straightens them out so Steve can crawl into his lap, straddling his hips. He’s heavy on Eddie’s legs, and Eddie lets out a soft groan, wrapping his arms around his waist as Steve kisses him again.

He lets Steve lick his mouth open, gathering the fabric of Steve’s shirt in his hands. He’s probably wrinkling it, but Steve doesn’t stop him. His breath is warm, and Eddie’s never felt so… peaceful. The room is nearly silent except for the soft, slick sounds of their lips and the breathy hums they can’t hold back, but Eddie doesn’t mind the quiet now. He pulls Steve closer, sliding a hand up his back and smiling when Steve shivers. And then Eddie shivers when Steve’s fingertips dance over his throat lightly. It tickles, but in a way that sends chills down his spine. Steve grins, biting Eddie’s lip again before he sucks on it gently.

Eddie hums, and Steve wraps his arms around his neck, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him, and his lips curve into a smile against Eddie’s when Eddie presses a hand into the small of his back. Eddie moves slowly, carefully, gently, shifting so he’s kneeling and opening his eyes just enough to glance past Steve at the dresser as he turns slowly. Steve’s legs wrap around his hips as he leans over, lowering Steve onto his back.

Steve hums softly, holding Eddie’s neck as their tongues slide, and when Eddie lifts his head, they’re both breathless, panting into each other’s mouths, smiling and smiling and smiling.

“Do you still feel dirty?” Eddie whispers quietly. Steve’s hair is splayed around his head on the ground like a halo, and his face is relaxed, blissful, beautiful.

“No,” Steve breathes.

“How do you feel?” Eddie murmurs against his lips before he kisses him slowly. Steve’s fingers run through his hair as he kisses his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, just under his ear, his lips pressing slowly, lingering. He reaches down and slips his fingers under the hem of Steve’s shirt, pressing into his skin. It’s so soft. And warm.

“...Beautiful.”

Eddie smiles. He slides his hand farther under the shirt, lifting his head to watch Steve’s expression just in case, but Steve just smiles and tilts his head back, baring his throat. Eddie kisses it.

They undress. Slowly, softly. Steve’s shirt goes first because Eddie can’t keep his hands off him, pressing under the fabric to press into his skin, and then after it’s tossed aside, Steve is tugging at Eddie’s sweatshirt wordlessly. Eddie sits up, kneeling between Steve’s legs as he tugs it over his head, Steve watches, his eyes glassy and flicking back and forth between Eddie’s face and his torso. He sits up a little, propping himself up on his elbow as he reaches for Eddie’s chest, brushing his fingertips over his tattoos. The spider and the zombie, the letters inked over his ribs that he did himself, late at night in his room with headphones on and a needle between his fingers. The words no one has ever seen before. Not even Wayne.

The letters are faded, the ink spotty and uneven, and probably a little crooked, slanted, wobbly like a child’s handwriting, reading THE URGE TO followed by two words, one atop the other.

CREATE DESTROY

Steve touches them tenderly, and he pushes Eddie so he leans back as he tilts his head and leans close enough to kiss the letters softly. Eddie smiles.

Steve’s hands are warm as they run over Eddie’s stomach, over his waist and chest, and Eddie feels beautiful, too, now. He’s never felt beautiful before.

He runs his own hands over Steve’s chest as they kiss again, tilting his head to lick into his mouth, sighing as Steve reaches up to push his hair back again. And Steve lowers back onto the floor again, his hands gentle as they pull Eddie down with him, and Eddie thinks he would go anywhere if Steve was the one pulling him along. Through the depths of hell. Off the edge of the earth.

He holds himself up on his elbow next to Steve’s head, and he can push his fingers through Steve’s hair without moving, so he does. It’s soft, and smooth, and Eddie loves it. Steve’s legs wrap around Eddie’s hips again, pulling him against himself, and then they’re both gasping and giggling into each other’s mouths, because they’re both hard, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He presses down against him again, and a soft, desperate noise escapes Steve’s throat as his hand tightens in Eddie’s hair.

Steve reaches for the drawstring of Eddie’s sweatpants. Eddie reaches for the button of his jeans.

They’re both breathing hard as they shed their pants, their faces close like they can’t stand to be apart, and Eddie presses his face into Steve’s neck as they toss them aside, followed quickly by their underwear, and Steve’s fingers press into his hair, holding the back of his head and Eddie gently pushes him back to the floor. And his whole body is so warm, covered in soft hair and moles that Eddie wants to trace. He wants to connect them all, with his fingertips, or with his tongue. Steve’s skin is tanner than Eddie’s, especially in the quiet glow of the lamps, and when Eddie glances down at their bodies pressed together, they look like silver and gold, and Eddie decides that are beautiful. Separately, and together.

Eddie holds his hand up, and Steve takes it wordlessly, turning his face away from Eddie’s to slide his tongue across his palm slowly, and then his head falls to the ground again as Eddie reaches down. He sounds so pretty as Eddie touches him, letting out soft moans and curses, whispering Eddie’s name like it’s all he knows. He kisses Eddie. Again, and again, and again.

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, and he buries his face in his neck, and he’s kissing him, kissing him, kissing him, and Eddie is groaning and whining and crying. There’s going to be a mark (or a few) left behind, he already knows, and he already can’t wait to see it in the mirror tomorrow morning. Steve lets out a choked noise when he comes, his back arching, and Eddie keeps crying.

— — — — —

Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, looking up at the ceiling, watching the smoke drift up and fade. Steve’s head is on his chest, and he sighs to blow the smoke out as they finish the joint they abandoned earlier.

Steve shifts to look up at him, lifting the joint to Eddie’s mouth for him, and Eddie smiles, parting his lips for it. Steve lets him take a long drag, and then he leans over him as he pulls the joint away, kissing his lips softly and opening his mouth for Eddie to blow the smoke out, into his lungs. Eddie opens his eyes when Steve pulls away, passing the joint to him as he exhales the smoke slowly.

Steve lays back down as Eddie smokes, his head resting on Eddie’s chest, hand raised to trace the spider that’s in front of his face, his fingertips light as he touches the legs of the spider, running down them slowly and carefully, like he’s worried about scaring it off. Eddie scratches at his scalp gently, combing his hair.

He can hear Steve’s heartbeat. Soft, and slow, and sleepy.

They got dressed after cleaning each other up quietly, pressing kisses to each other’s skin. Steve out on Eddie’s sweatshirt as Eddie was putting on his sweatpants, and Eddie just smiled, watching him shake his hair out of his face.

Their legs twist under the blankets, and Steve sighs again, sliding his hands over Eddie’s chest gently. Eddie knows without looking that his eyes are closed, and he shifts, tapping the joint out in the ashtray and then flicking off the lamp. The room goes dark except the sliver of moonlight coming through the small window across the room and the softly glowing end of the joint.

“I still feel beautiful,” Steve whispers as Eddie closes his eyes. Eddie moves down to wrap his arms around him, and he kisses his temple.

“Good.”

[undead-supernova]

Hello writers!!!!!

I've noticed recently that there is a lot of sadness and disappointment in the fandom due to the lack of recognition and spotlight on writers who may not be as well known.

I would like to find a way to change that!

So, how do we do that?

Well, I wanted to start by doing this:

I would like you to share this around and ask that you writers send me a fic that YOU ARE MOST PROUD OF! Not just a fic that got the most notes or recognition. BUT A FIC THAT YOU ARE THE MOST PROUD OF AND LOVE WITH YOUR WHOLE HEART AND SOUL!!!!

Here is what I'll do with it:

I want to create a Masterpost with organized genres that everyone can click on to find new work and give recognition to one another for their hard work.

Everyone has their niche and I think it's fucking incredible. I want to showcase everyone's proudest work where we can all show encouragement, love, and appreciation.

IF YOU ARE INTERESTED, PLEASE EITHER SEND ME AN ASK OFF OF ANON OR DM ME YOUR FIC!!!

OR EVEN IF YOU'RE NOT, PLEASE SPREAD IT AROUND TO OTHERS!

(I'm taking xReader fics for Eddie, Steve, and Robin! If your proudest work is for Nancy, Chrissy, etc etc then still send it! We should give versatility !!!!)

[delta-piscium]

When Steve and Eddie start dating Wayne pulls Steve aside and is like “I know this sounds odd but you’re gonna have to take him on walks every once in a while.”

And Steve is just like “?? Sir? He is not a dog?”

Wayne gives him a slightly haunted look, muttering “sometimes I wonder,” under his breath before clearing his throat and telling Steve to just trust him on this one. 

Steve thinks this is probably something Wayne had to do when Eddie was a child to get him out of the house but the man is a full-grown adult now, Steve is not gonna walk him.

He kind of forgets about it until one day. Eddie’s been staying at Steve’s for the week and he gets home from work only to find the kitchen absolutely wrecked. He finds Eddie in another room standing in a pile of books. He very slowly approaches him, putting his hands out and making his voice soft and as carefully as he can being like, “Hey, babe, what’s up?”

Eddie whips around, eyes big and wild, rambling almost too fast for Steve to understand. “I needed to make a cake but I didn’t have a recipe so I improvised and that did not work so I went to find a recipe and did you know there are like fifty-year-old medical books here? There are so many descriptions of gross stuff in them.” He waves one of Steve’s granddads old books around and Steve has to lean back to not get smacked by it. 

“Yeah… my granddad was a doctor,” he says all while eyeing him warily. 

His hair is frizzier than usual and he’s about to turn around to grab more books and Steve does not know what this is or what to do? Should he do something? That’s when he remembers what Wayne said about walks and the way he had looked, a bit stressed and disbelieving. It’s about how Steve is feeling right now so he might as well try, right?

So he grabs Eddie, pulling him along towards the door, making up the first excuse he can think of. “Speaking of my granddad, he built a tree-house for me in the woods behind the house, let’s go look.” 

He walks into the woods at the wrong opening, leading them kind of far in before turning around to wander and pretending to look. He finally steers them back to where the tree-house actually is, all in its tiny rotten glory, and right at the edge of the lawn.

“Guess it was closer than I remember,” he says with a shrug as if dragging Eddie around for twenty minutes insisting it was further in is in any way a believable mistake. 

Eddie gives him a look like he’s acting insane, which, okay fair but Eddie did start it. And anyways he looks better now, judgmental as all hell but better.

“Cool,” He eventually says then stomps back inside. 

Eddie spends the rest of the day making fun of Steve for getting lost in the woods where he grew up but he’s not climbing the walls anymore so Steve counts it as a win.

After that he brings Eddie on regular walks, tells him it’s because he doesn’t do sports anymore and needs to move, doesn’t always feel like running and it’s boring going alone. Eddie accepts it easily but also says it’s so weird because Wayne will also drag him along on walks, and, like, what about him attracts these people who need to go on walks all the time and can’t do it alone?

Steve and Wayne have a pact to never tell Eddie, they do not even want to imagine how that would go because Eddie is a drama queen at heart and their system is working (until years later when Steve and Eddie live together hours away and Steve goes on a trip with Robin, he comes back to Eddie on his way to turn their living room into a greenhouse)

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 7

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

((TW for this part; period typical slurs and internalized homophobia. Read the tags before clicking readmore if you want the details))

Steve has been a porcelain doll for seven weeks when disaster strikes.

"What is that," Jeff says, because even though the words are in an order which would suggest that it's a question, the tone of voice Jeff uses decidedly is not questioning.

"What is whaaa-AH! Nothing! It's nothing!" Eddie, who was torso deep into his closet throwing things around to find his backup amp cord, turns to look at what Jeff was talking about, and is now launching himself across his room to stand between Jeff and Porcelain Steve. Porcelain Steve, who Eddie had lain on his bed, propped slightly on a pillow, headphones carefully perched on his little head, hooked to a cassette player currently playing the first hour of last week's Top 40 countdown that Eddie had taped for him (all three hours of it, leaving out the chatter of the radio show host. He'd had to use two tapes to get it all).

"Nothing sure looks a lot like a doll in headphones, Munson," Jeff has an amazing poker face but Eddie's certain he can see a bit of judgement underneath the carefully blank expression Jeff is wearing.

"I don't know what you're talking abo- hey! Hey, no, no, don't!" Eddie tries to bodily block Jeff when he moves forward and the two end up wrestling, a match that Eddie almost wins, if not for the hazard that is his messy room. He gets Jeff walked almost to the door before he steps wrong on something, ankle rolling and sending him down sideways. He clutches at Jeff but can't make purchase and Jeff, the bastard, does fuck-all to try and catch him. Instead, Jeff leaps out of arm's length, then lunges onto the bed as Eddie collapses to his floor.

Eddie frantically tries to stand and, in his haste, ends up with his feet tangled in a pile of dirty laundry and that sends him crashing down again, this time forward onto his hands and knees, so he gives up on standing and crawls the few short feet to the bed, finally looking up to see that the damage has been done.

Jeff has picked up Steve, holding him inches from his own face, eyes squinted in suspicion. Eddie is frozen, horrified and afraid, and can't bring himself to do anything as Jeff examines Steve closely, turning him around, poking his torso, flipping him upside down to examine his shoes more thoroughly. It's only when Jeff reached for the shirt, pinching the hem of it between two fingers that Eddie kicks back into action.

He lunges up, one knee on the bed, leaning over to grab Steve and yank him from Jeff's grip. His first instinct is to throw Steve over his shoulder, out of sight out of mind mentality, but as soon as he does, he realizes his mistake and twists, lunging to catch Steve in midair. He does manage to catch Steve, but it sends him bouncing off his dresser and almost back to the floor before he manager to regain his balance, where he proceeds to cradle Steve to his chest, which is heaving from the adrenaline, wrestling match, and subsequent dive after Steve.

Jeff is giving him a concerned look but something else piques his interest; Jeff reaches over and picks up the headphones, holding them up to one ear. His face goes through every emotion a human could possibly experience in less than fifteen seconds as he listens to whatever track was at the forty-ish minute mark on the Top 40 countdown.

Slowly, Jeff lowers the headphones, letting them drop to the bed before he gives Eddie a new, more judgmental, yet infinitely more concerned, look. "Eddie. What. The fuck."

Honestly, he's not sure there's anything he can say in response.

"Why- I don't... are you okay, man?" Jeff sounds both scared for Eddie, and scared of him, at the same time.

"I'm fine," Eddie manages to squeak out.

"Eddie," Jeff says seriously, "this is not fine. This is- this is insane behavior. You know that, right?"

"I've no idea what you mean," Eddie doesn't even know what he's defending himself from but his default response to anything is to defend himself. He grips Steve tightly around the torso with one hand and then moves both his hands to be behind his back so Jeff will stop staring at Steve.

"I mean this fuckin' insane shrine you have dedicated to Steve fucking Harrington. How did you even get a doll that looks like him. Did you- did you make that?"

Fuck. Holy fuck. What can he say to defend himself here? Is there a single way for him to come out of this not sounding deranged? If he agrees, let's Jeff's drawn conclusion be the truth, then that's all but confirmation to Steve about his big fat crush, so when Steve's back to being Steve he'll never look at Eddie again. Jeff might think he needs mental help, but he'll be here for Eddie. If he tries to deny the accusation, then he'll need an explanation. He'll have to tell Jeff something that make him seem less like a creepy stalker, but what? He can't tell the truth, not without letting everyone know he's going to tell Jeff. There's a whole other secret he'd have to let out to even have a chance of Jeff believing him.

Jeff must take his silence for acceptance or guilt, because he's speaking again. "I.... man, this is not healthy. Please tell me you aren't, like, hoarding a lock of his hair or his clothes or something."

Involuntarily, damningly, his eyes dart to the closet, where several of Steve's sweaters hang from when he'd borrowed them and never returned them. And it's not like Steve doesn't have several of Eddie's own articles of clothing, like his battle vest and a few shirts. But Jeff doesn't know they easily, willingly, swap clothes, so his eyes go wide and dart towards the closet, as if he can pick out which pieces belong to Steve on sight.

Actually, he probably can.

"This really isn't what it looks like," Eddie says because he has to say something. Being silent is too incriminating.

"I don't think you're aware of what this looks like," Jeff says, wiggling himself off of Eddie's bed to stand at the foot of it. "Of all the boys in Hawkins.... I knew you liked Steve but this is.... creepy. That doll looks so much like him that I recognized it. Does Steve know you're in love with him, or is this like a way to process your crush without having to-"

"Jeff!" Eddie yells, mortified. He can feel his whole face heat up, knows he must be bright red. Because Jeff just said, out loud and for Steve to hear, the thing that Eddie very much hasn't even said out loud to himself, even if he knows how he feels deep down.

Jeff must know he's overstepped some invisible boundary he wasn't even aware of because his face immediately shows regret. He takes a step forward and Eddie takes a step back.

Immediately, Jeff stops his forward momentum. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm sorry."

When Eddie answers, his voice sounds like he's been eating gravel, "Just, can you go wait in the living room? I'll be right out, and we can talk, or whatever, but can you just..."

A nod, and then Jeff is gone, closing the door behind him.

With shaking hands, Eddie brings Steve back to the front of him. Looks down at him. He's not even aware he's crying until he watches his tears mark Steve's tiny polo. He can't keep holding Steve. Can't keep looking at him. Not when- not when his best friend just outed him in the worst way possible. And Eddie can't even be upset or hurt about it because Jeff didn't know. He's teased Eddie about his crushes before, and in the safety of his own room, there was no reason for Jeff to have to watch what he was saying.

Even knowing that Steve is okay with Robin, loves her anyway, without the ability to confirm that Steve doesn't hate him right now, Eddie's going to freak out. But he can't. Jeff is waiting in the living room, and the band is waiting back at Gareth's. This was just- they were supposed to just grab the amp cable and get back, a fifteen-minute job at most, and now.

Now Eddie is staring down at Steve, willing himself to not have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have heard it like that, it s-should have come from me. It should- you-I'm sorry," Eddie gently underhand throws Steve onto the center of the bed. He lands face up and Eddie sinks to the floor because he can't stand anymore, and he can't really breath.

Steve knows Eddie's a fucking faggot now, and that he wants Steve, and there's no way he'll get to keep the friendship they had before this. There's no universe in which Steve isn't creeped out by this information. There has never been an instance where a straight boy found out about his crush on them and didn't abandon him. Not always cruelly, he'll admit. He's had friends that learned and just... slid from his life with no words and no fuss. Eddie just never spoke to them again because they never came back around, but they also never outed him.

That's what will happen with him and Steve. He'll quit inviting Eddie around, or calling when he's bored, and eventually it will get to the point that Eddie only sees him at BBQ's that Joyce drags him to.

Fuck. FUCK!

He's not sure how long he's on the floor but eventually, he finds the will to get back up and resume digging through his closet to find the amp cord. It doesn't take long, he was ridiculously close to finding it earlier, it seems.

Before leaving his room, he picks back up the cassette player and headphones. Silence comes from them, so he pops the tape out before flipping it to the B side and popping it back in. He puts the headphones around Steve's head again and presses play, doing his best to not actually look at Steve. He'll just have another breakdown if he does.

He trudges out of his room, closing the door behind himself before taking the short walk to the living room, where Jeff waiting on the couch, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin, eyes faraway as he stares towards the wall in front of him.

"Hey," Eddie says, to get his attention.

"Hey," Jeff says, sitting up straight and turning towards Eddie. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the fucking psycho here," he sighs, leaning sideways against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest, hand clutching at the amp cord just for something to ground him.

"Forget that, whatever I did, or said, or whatever, you were- when you yelled my name. You looked terrified. Of me," Jeff almost whispers the last sentence, and if not for the stark silence in the trailer, Eddie wouldn't have heard.

"Not of you, Jeff," Eddie whispers back, but his voice doesn't stay quiet because 'quiet' isn't a thing Eddie does easily or often. "Of... of myself, and these- of how I feel- I'm a goddamned faggot and now that Ste- when Steve finds out I'll lose him! Like I've lost every fucking person who ever even suspected I was a fuckin' queer!"

Silence stretches between them, enough to make Eddie fidget, dropping his crossed arms to twist the amp cord about anxiously with both his hands.

"Look, man, I don't know what's, like, the appropriate thing to say so I'm just going for the honest thing. You got me. You'll never lose me. And all those other assholes that you think you lost? You're wrong. They lost you. And if Steve Harrington is gonna be another one of those, then you aren't losing him. 'Cause he was never really in your corner to begin with."

If this were anyone else, with the exception of his uncle, he would be able to hold it together better. But it's Jeff. His best friend. Who never believed Eddie committed unspeakable horrors over Spring Break last year. Who didn't question the strange, new friends he suddenly had afterwards; who accepted as the only explanation a softly spoken 'they saved me' and that was enough. Who had said 'ok, cool' in response to Eddie telling him he was gay, years ago now, and continued trying to find out if Eddie had a secret relationship, switching girlfriend for boyfriend like it wasn't a big deal (Eddie did not have a secret relationship; his good mood that week was the result of snooping for his birthday present and finding the guitar hidden under his uncle bed).

It's Jeff. So, Eddie does the most metal, manly thing he can and bursts into tears, blindly reaching for Jeff and pulling him off the couch so he can bear hug him and sob into his shirt.

"There, there, you big baby," Jeff rubs his back soothingly, "let it out. Then pull your sorry ass together, because Gareth and Brian are going to think we died in a car crash on the way here if we take much longer."

"Ah, fuck," Eddie manager to say around the sniffling he's trying to get control of, "you're right."

"You good, though?"

"Uh, I will be."

Jeff nods and steps back. "How about this. We go to practice, and then you can come to my place tonight and we can like, hangout and talk. If that's what you want."

He's already nodding as he says, "yeah. That would be good. I- uh, I have something to do after practice, but yeah, after that I'll come over."

Eddie tosses the amp cable to Jeff after they climb into the van and head off.

Halfway there, Jeff says, "you know Gareth and Brian are in your corner, too. If you ever feel like telling them one day."

"One day," Eddie agrees, "but today has already been... a lot."

Practice goes well, with some ribbing for their tardiness allowed. If Gareth and Brian notice Eddie's been crying recently, they keep it to themselves. Which is good, because Eddie cannot handle one more thing today.

A promise to meet up with Jeff later and Eddie's back home.

Back to where he left Steve, who will be laying in silence on his bed because it's been well over two hours since he and Jeff left, and the tape only held an hours' worth of music on each side. Back to the nightmare of not knowing if Steve hates him now, or if Eddie's, and this is the most likely scenario, being a bit overdramatic.

His uncle is home, so he greets him, asks after his day, gets told dinner is Fend For Yourself Night (which just means leftovers or a TV dinner), and gets asked about Steve. Because of course he does.

"You sure he went on a vacation willingly with those parents of his, and he ain't actually kidnapped and trapped somewhere?"

That's a little bit too true. If only Wayne knew. "Well, no. I'm not sure. All I know is what he said when he left."

Wayne gives him a look. One Eddie is used to seeing, that says 'I know more than you think but I'm waiting for you to tell me' and Eddie's a little afraid of what Wayne thinks he knows. So, instead of prying that box open, Eddie just says he's tired and goes to his room.

Steve is exactly where Eddie left him.

Suddenly, without reason or logic, Eddie is angry. He's so pissed at Steve for being gone for this long. For having transformed in the first place. For not being able to assure him they'll still be friends, regardless of Eddie's stupid crush.

He snatches Steve off the bed, hand clamping around one of Steve's arms and his torso so he can hold him up with one hand. Steve's face, permanently stuck into a blank expression, looks back. Even knowing that Steve sees and hears through this thing, Eddie's so angry at the doll. If Steve hadn't been turned into this stupid thing, if Eddie wasn't so helplessly in love with him, this wouldn't have happened. Eddie could have taken his own time telling Steve, instead of hearing his deepest secret spilled easily from Jeff's lips. Instead of this not knowing what Steve is thinking, or how he feels. Is he recoiling in disgust at the fact Eddie's making him look at his face? Or is Eddie being awarded the same kindness as Robin, a quiet acceptance that won't change their friendship?

Eddie doesn't know that answer and he hates it.

He's so angry with himself because he should know better. He's forcing his own insecurities onto Steve, about acceptance and caring, when nothing Steve's done since they've become friends is prove that he'll always be Eddie's friend and not even the apocalypse could change that.

"I'm going to hang out with Jeff, so you're gonna be alone a bit longer. Or maybe I should drop you off at Robin's when I go," Eddie goes to toss Steve back on the bed when something pinches his palm. It's a startling sharp pain, quick to fade, but it's surprising enough for Eddie to let go.

Eddie watches, horrified, as he falls to the floor. He twists in the air, landing with a dull thump and cracking sound on his left arm before falling onto his back.

"Shit. Shit! Fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Eddie is crouched, already in the process of reaching for Steve when he freezes.

There is a crack on Steve's left arm, a line that starts above his elbow on the inside of his arm and runs down and across his arm to his hand, where Steve's pinky finger is gone. Looking slightly to the side, Eddie can see the small porcelain piece that Steve is missing laying on the ground next to him. Eddie's own hand is hovering in the air above Steve, shaking.

This can't be- how did- Eddie wracks his brain. Was the crack there already? Did Eddie cause the crack when he bounced off his dresser earlier? When did it happen? Does that fucking matter when it's Eddie who broke a piece off him? If Steve didn't hate him before, he's got to now. Eddie doesn't have time to panic about this, he's got to- El. El can talk to Steve. Find out if he's okay. What if breaking him-

Eddie launches himself up and to his dresser, grabbing at the Walkie up there. He pulls the antenna up, clicks it on and tries not to actually shout as he says, "Code Red! Code fucking Red!" He lets off the talk button, counts to seven in his head, enough time, he reasons, for someone to respond before he repeats the process. "Code Red!! Code Red!"

He repeats this process for three minutes with no response. Where the fuck is everyone!? How is he supposed to- Oh! The phone!

He tears down the hall and to the phone. He must look a right state, because Wayne looks very concerned and is halfway to standing up when Eddie gets to the phone beside him. He yanks the phone up and dials the number for the Byers-Hopper household, holding up a shaking finger to Wayne, a silent plea to give him a moment.

It rings and rings and rings before the answering machine kicks in. Eddie presses down on the disconnect button before dialing the Wheelers' number next.

"Hello?"

"Mike! Code Red! Where the fuck is everyone and why aren't they answering!?"

"What?"

"Code Red! Where's Nancy. Put Nancy on."

"Dude, slow down, what's-"

"I broke St-it. I broke it and someone needs to get El here now. Code Red does not mean ask questions, Mike! It means Code. Fucking. Red."

"Shit, shit, right! I'll get Nancy and we'll get everyone- just- we'll be there soon."

Eddie slams the phone down and has to meet his uncle's eye now.

"Eddie. What is goin' on?"

Eddie inhales a breath and can feel his lower lip quivering. "It's- can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not the one hurt, or in trouble, or- it's not me, ok. I just-"

"Yer shakin' like a leaf boy. What's got you so spooked?"

Eddie just shakes his head and flees back to his room, slamming the door shut between him and his uncle. He can't bring himself to cross the room to Steve. He slides himself down the door to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up to hug.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm sorry."

[corrodedcoughin]

I love flustered and uncertain Steve as much as the next person but Steve Harrington has game and he’s going to lay it on THICK to get his man.

Steve starts by consulting with Robin and Dustin on Eddie’s various interests and how best to make it clear he wants to kiss him on the mouth

Dustin is initially horrified at the thought of something going wrong and make his life harder because then he’d have to deal with two moping dads instead of two pining dads. He knows they both suck at being rational so he needs this to not blow up

Steve starts buying little things for Eddie to begin the ‘courting process’ as he’s calling it (hey he’s going to get in character and woo his damsel and druids master or whatever)

These gifts include: a set of dice, a big heavy duty safety pin, blank tapes (yes he’s hoping to get a mix tape out of that one), sewing thread (because Steve pays attention dammit) and a hair tie ‘you can’t hide away that pretty face all the time Munson’

Steve is on fire, he’s inviting eddie out to dinner, movies, even asking about the local gig scene

The thing is, Eddie has no game. Negative game in fact, the guy punches trees, rolls around in the dirt and can’t even look at Steve without blushing or saying the most out of pocket thing that he agonises over later when he’s lying in bed and trying to sleep

Eventually, eventually, after Steve has played all his cards and Eddie is suitably flustered once again, Steve is leaving Eddie’s (he was getting an education on Judas Priest). Steve is dedicated to his chivalrous approach to just as he’s at the door, he leans in a press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek murmuring ‘thanks for the enlightening experience Eddie, maybe I could return the favour next time’

Before Steve gets fully out of the door Eddie has pulled him in by the collar, thrown caution to the wind and kisses Steve breathless. He leaves the trailer walking backwards and still in conversation with Eddie, bumping into his car and waving as he drives away

The next day he goes into work Dustin happens to be there, conspiring with Robin on Steve’s next Eddie related movie. Steve pushes both doors open, sunglasses on and announces to a very busy family video ‘Harrington still has it baby’

[jadewritesficshere]

Anniversary

Steve Harrington x female!reader

You and Steve celebrate your one year anniversary.

Warnings: pet names (Honey), p in v, creampie, cum play, breeding kink (not really but I'm adding it just in case)

18+only

You could hardly tear your eyes from Steve. He had worked all day and had just come home. He had changed into some shorts and his red sweater. His hair was falling slightly into his face, causing him to run his hand up and back through his hair.

Steve looked no different then any other day, but in this moment, even with the tiredness seeping through his bones, you could feel the love radiating off him as he smiled at you. The adoration in his gaze filled you with warmth.

You scoot closer to him on the couch, his arm absently going to the top of the couch so you could get closer. You move so close your thighs are flush against each other. You lean your ear against his chest, hearing his steady heart beat.

Steady. That's what Steve is. Reliable. Strong. Always there for you. One year together, and you couldn't imagine life without him. You both had to work today, unfortunately, so you decided to celebrate your one year anniversary tomorrow.

"What are you thinking Honey?" Steve gently trailed his fingers up and down your arm. "Kinda want to give you your present today." You mumble, turning your face more into his chest. You inhale deeply, the scent of Steve's cologne mixed with his sweat being so tantalizing. It was Steve. You wanted to bottle that smell.

Steve's chest vibrates as he chuckles," I thought we weren't getting gifts?" You shrug slightly. You don't even care if he didn't get you one, you wanted to get Steve something. You could buy every item in the mall and it still wouldn't be enough to show him how much you loved him.

"Want to exchange gifts tonight?" Steve asks softly. You pull back to look into his eyes," I thought we weren't exchanging gifts?" Steve's face flushes as he gives you a shy grin," Well i couldn't not get something for my best girl."

"Best girl?" You raise an eyebrow," Better be your only girl." Steve blinks and smiles," You're the only girl, Honey. The best and most beautiful the-" you duck your head as Steve scoffs," You are stop it! You're beautiful and amazing, you are my only girl. You're it for me."

Your heart flutters in your chest and you can't stop the smile that spreads across your face. Steve lightly taps your ass to signal for you to move. You sit up and he grins at you.

Steve slaps his knees before standing up," Well, alright then." He motions for you to follow and you stand quickly.

You waddle after him and the image of a chick following a mother hen pops into your head. You giggle slightly as Steve looks back over his shoulder at you. "Watcha laughing about?" He asks and you shake your head in response. He smiles softly and reaches back with his hand, grabbing yours and interlocking your fingers.

He leads you into the bedroom and drops your hand to open the dresser and start rifling through it. You lightly kick the door shut as Steve searches under socks and underwear for the gift.

You go over to the closet to grab his gift. You can't help but start to bite your lip from nerves. What if he doesn't like it? What if it isn't good enough? You had spent hours trying to find it but-

"Enough of that now, Honey," Steve murmurs as his thumb drags your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth. You inhale sharply from shock, not expecting him to have been so close. You turn and stare into his warm eyes. Steve's thumb lingers on your lip for a second longer before he slowly draws his hand away.

You push the rectangular box into his chest, his hand coming up reflexively to catch the gift. Your hand drifts off the package onto his pec, fingers flexing slightly snd squeezing. Steve smirks eyes trailing up and down your form. You clear your throat and tap the gift," Happy anniversary, Babe."

Steve beams at you and hands you a small square box," Happy anniversary, Honey. Here's to many more." You giggle elatedly and take the small box.

He shakes his gift, as if it would give him a clue to what is inside. Steve can't help but half laugh at your amused expression. He loves seeing you smile and would do anything to make you happy. He carefully opens the gift, folding the paper to use again later. The lid slides off the box to reveal a hockey jersey.

Steve's eyes light up, "Holy shit!" "You know how hard it is to find these jerseys in the middle of Indiana?" You tease as you watch him hold it up to himself. Steve is rambling excitedly about the player as he runs his hand over the number. The statistics fly over your head, but you are glad he liked your gift. You look down at your own present.

You tear open the carefully wrapped box, definitely wrapped better than yours. Ripped wrapping paper falls on the ground in pieces. You lift the lid on your box, tossing it somewhere behind you. Inside is a silver chain with the letter S on it. "Wanted everyone to know you're my girl." Steve takes the necklace out and motions for you to turn around.

You do so and feel the coolness of the chain lay across your neck. Steve fumbles connecting the chain for second, mumbling about how small the chain is, before getting it latched. He walks around you and stares at the S that sits above your chest. "Beautiful." He mumbles before looking into your eyes.

"Guess I'll have to get you a ring so everyone knows you're mine." You hands slide up his shoulders and land behind his neck. Steve blushes slightly as he grins wildly at you," Not if I get you one first."

Steve leans in slowly, lips barely brushing yours. A shaky exhale from either or both of you occurs before your lips meet. Soft and sweet.

It soon turns more frantic. Soft and sweet becomes passion and lust. Hands roam, tongues sweeping into each other's mouths, teeth lightly clashing.

The back of your legs hits the bed, you weren't even aware of Steve moving the two of you. You pull away long enough to discard your clothes, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. Steve trips trying to take off his boxers, falling face first onto the bed. He grumbles as he turns around, but all grumbling stops as you climb atop his lap.

Steve's hands automatically grab onto your hips, pulling you closer to him. You lean over him, holding yourself up with one hand as the other threads through his chest hair. Steve licks his lips as he eyes your bare breasts.

You grind slowly against Steve, feeling the veins on the outside of his cock rub against your folds. The tip of his cock rubbing against your clit in just the right way. Steve's hands grab and knead your ass as his eyes focus on the S of your necklace swaying against your breasts with every roll of your hips.

"Oh fuck me," Steve groans, darting his head forward to kiss and lick at your chest. You gasp in surprise and try not to moan at the feeling. Every one of your senses feels alight. Steve trails kisses up to your neck, leaving an open mouth kiss pressed against you. You can feel the warmth of his tongue collide with the cool of the necklace.

You aren't sure how long has passed, it could be five minutes or fifty, but you can feel the pressure building. Steve doesn't stop kissing, licking, and sucking on every inch of skin he can reach.

Stars alight behind your eyes as your hips spasm. You can feel your muscles tense and relax, the feeling of immense pleasure rushing over you. You aren't sure if you said his name or just moaned, but Steve's murmurs of praise fill your ears.

When the orgasm subsides, you can feel your release dripping down your thighs. Steve slowly rolls the two of you over, him propped up above you. "Did so good for me," Steve murmurs, kissing you lightly. Steve reaches over to the nightstand to grab a condom but you stop him and pull him back in for another kiss.

"I loved the present you gave me earlier," you mumble against his lips, pulling back slightly. Steve beams down at you, fingers trailing lightly down your face. "But it isn't what I wanted," you add, blinking up at Steve. Steve frowns slightly, brows furrowed. "Shit, did you ask for something and I forgo-"

"No." You smile, hand trailing up and down his lower abdomen, dangerously close to his dick. He shivers slightly at the feeling," then uh what was it you wanted? I'll go get it. Promise, anything you want I'll give you." Your grin turns slightly wicked as you slide your hands around to his ass, "I want to fuck you without a condom. Your cum. Inside me."

Steve groans and drops his head to your shoulder, faltering and pressing all his weight into you. His head burrows into your neck. His voice hitches," Fuck." You feel his dick twitch before a warmth spurts onto your abdomen. Steve moans as his hips stutter forward. You blink in shock before the realization hits.

"Did you just-" you look down as if you could see through Steve's body to your stomach. Steve whimpers slightly, nodding his head into your neck. "Sorry fuck sorry" Steve presses kisses into your neck with each word. Your hand trails up and down his spine, mind reeling.

You knew Steve would like the suggestion. You weren't expecting him to come just from saying it though. It was...kind of hot. The fact that he was so into you the thought of it alone sent him over the edge?

You shifted slightly under his weight as you felt that needy feeling appear again. Steve pulls his head back and gives you a pout," Fuck i wasn't expecting that. You can't just say shit like that." Steve props himself up and hovers over you, both of you looking at the evidence of his excitement smeared across your abdomen.

Steve sat up so he was kneeling between your legs. "What did you say you wanted?" Steve scooped some of the cum onto two of his fingers," My cum inside you?" Steve trailed his fingers down and slowly pushed into your weeping hole.

You moan at the feeling of his big fingers filling you up. It also felt slightly dirty, Steve fingering his cum into you. It was taboo, but so hot, you could feel yourself get wetter. Steve thrusts his fingers in and out, slowly at first before speeding up. He crooks his finger to hit that spot in you. You gasp as you buck your hips to meet his thrusts.

You grab his wrist haltering his movements, "Can you-? Are you?" You look down at his half hard cock," Need you." Steve swallows and nods, removing his fingers making you frown at the loss. Steve's fingers are coated in both of your releases, glistening in the light. He strokes his cock a few times, it hardening with each stroke.

"You look so good like this," Steve murmurs, leaning back over you. The tip of his dick catches against your hole, causing you both to inhale sharply.

You can feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly slides into you. Steve's brow furrows as his mouth falls open," Oh shit- can't believe you're- fuck." Steve moans slightly as he bottoms out.

He pauses only for a second before setting a brutal pace, fast and hard. Each thrust has you gasping. "Gonna fuck you so good. Gonna fill you up." Steve moans into your ear as he nips at your neck.

Each thrusts hits just right. Your breath catches, your heart beating wildly. The love and adoration in the room overflows, so sickly sweet. "I love you," you gasp into Steve's mouth as you kiss him. Steve groans into the kiss, licking deep into your mouth.

Your body shakes as you come undone. Your vision fades to black and the only thought you can think is Steve. Euphoria from every angle, pleasure alighting every nerve in your body.

Steve moans as he feels you clench around him. He picks up his pace slightly before he comes. You can feel the thick ropes of his release paint your insides. You half whine half moan at the feeling.

Steve's chest rubs against you with his labored breaths. He rests his weight on his forearms so he isnt pressed against you- not that you would have minded. "Did i say it back?" Steve asks causing you to blink up st him. His hair has flopped onto his forehead, stuck there from the sweat, "I love you too."

Steve slowly pulls out, eyes widening as he watches your combined releases slowly leak out of your hole. He licks his lips and lightly pats your thigh before getting up to grab a washcloth from the attached bath. He returns and cleans you up before laying down next to you.

"I love you so much," Steve wraps his arms around you," Definitely need to go look for a ring." You chuckle slightly and look up at him," Not if I find one first."

[whoreish-behaviour]

He’s so freaking adorable and very Steven-coded lool !!

[findafight]

I want Argyle to meet Steve in Hawkins and go "oh man. You MUST be Steve, that hair is absolutely bodacious."

And Steve is like. "???? Thank? You? Who are.... You're hair is actually amazing omg it's so silky smooth...I don't know your name. How do you know mine?" Because Steve doesn't think Jonathan would mention him enough to warrant this cool new guy to remember his name let alone recognize him On Sight.

And of course, it wasn't Jonathan who talked about Steve and his hair. Of course it wasn't. "Nah man." Says Argyle, "I'm Argyle. But Jonny didn't really mention you. My little hair care pal Ellie did though."

Because of course it was El, who Steve had tried to help with her hair after November of '84 and bonded over figuring out a style she liked that would grow out nicely, who talked about her friend Steve who was really good with hair, Argyle. His is different from yours but it is still very pretty. I think you'd get along. Maybe you can meet if we visit Hawkins someday! When Argyle had offered to braid her hair a couple times. :') and thus a beautiful friendship was born, based on hair care tips and the mutual love of a teenager who can mindfight demons.