#steddiemicroficjuly

[inairbinad]

you're hot

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt: pool 442 words | rated T (out of an abundance of caution for Steve's vaguely impure thoughts) | cw: none

A bead of sweat trickled down Eddie’s neck, eventually settling in the dip of his collarbone.

Steve watched its journey and licked his lips, imagining diving into the shallow pool with his tongue and reckless abandon— salty yet sweet.

Eddie was rambling on about something that seemed very important to him as they drove around in the van, just having dropped the last of the kids off for the evening. The air conditioner was busted, and Eddie was talking about dragons again. So Steve was left to his own devices in watching the effect of the heat on his friend’s perfectly bitable neck.

It didn’t help that Eddie was wearing a tank top, or that his hair was pulled up into a bun.

“Stevie,” Eddie waved a hand in front of his face, snapping Steve back to the present. “You get heat stroke on me?”

“Something like that,” Steve mumbled. He wished he could blame the heat for way he'd been daydreaming about sucking the taste of Eddie's skin into his mouth, but that particular thought never seemed to leave Steve's mind these days.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, always too attuned to whatever Steve was thinking (or sulking) about.

“Nothing,” Steve tried. Eddie leveled him with a look that would have melted stone. “You’re hot, is all.”

“Well I know that, Steve,” Eddie huffed. “It’s eleventy one degrees out and the A/C is broken.”

“What—?” Steve began to ask, but he didn’t actually think he wanted to divert the conversation that far. “Not literally, Eddie. I mean you’re attractive, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Eddie’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion, and Steve wondered how on earth he could be more clear. Until out of nowhere Eddie steered off the main road and into a small copse of trees just off the shoulder.

“What the hell, dude—”

“Don’t dude me,” Eddie chastised as he scrambled out of his seat and into Steve’s lap. Steve hurried to settle his hands on Eddie’s hips without much thought, and Eddie looked down at him with a wolfish grin. “You just told me I’m driving you crazy. I think that deserves a baby, or a sweetheart, or even a honey bunch.”

Steve was stunned at this turn of events, but bantering with Eddie was always the easy part.

“I’ve always kinda liked schnookums, if we’re being honest,” Steve said with a lazy shrug.

“Of course you would,” Eddie rolled his eyes with such affection it made Steve’s heart clench. “Can I kiss you now, schnookums?”

“Thought you’d never ask, baby.”

Eddie kissed the wry smile right off of his mouth.

He tasted even sweeter than Steve imagined.

[asongbirdandanoldhat]

written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pool’ wc: 442 | rated: G | cw: none

Eddie Munson nearly didn't make 21. But even before becoming a buffet spread for interdimensional hell bats, Eddie never would've imagined spending his 21st birthday at Steve Harrington's. After wide games in the woods with the world's most metal teens, having his pale skin preserved by Nancy's stern gaze and endless sunscreen supply, and somehow surviving the dreamlike vision of Steve, tanned, topless, and happy, Eddie was ready declare his birthday a roaring success. But the glint in Gareth's eye, the way Jeff was watching him while chatting to Buckley, had Eddie on edge. He surveyed the suspiciously quiet yard. Absences noted, Eddie's eyes met Dan's. He tilted his head in question. Dan's hands rose. Eddie honed in. He was great at charades. But before interpretations could begin, Gareth slapped Dan's hands down. His hissed words didn't carry, but the shake of his curly head was unmistakable. Whatever was afoot, the band were in on it. The kids shuffled back outside in an extremely conspicuous formation. Eddie thought they might be smuggling Harrington between them, before he spotted Steve in the doorway, watching them, expression fond. Dustin was vibrating. "Present time." "We already did presents," Eddie said. "Sure. But there's one left." "The big one," Lucas added. "Don't ruin it," Mike muttered. "I didn't say what it was." "Do I get to know what it is?" Eddie derailed, amused. Dustin nodded to Will, who carefully counted down, "Three, two, one." The boys stepped aside, revealing Max, holding his present, and El, holding Max's elbow. Eddie felt tears prickle, as he took in the unnecessarily wrapped gift. There was no mistaking the shape. "You bought me a guitar?" he croaked. El helped Max place the gift in Eddie's lap. His hands slid instinctively around it, the weight felt just right. "Open it," El instructed. Ripping the bright paper revealed a familiar x-shaped body, not the dappled red of his world-saving sweetheart, but a solid black. She was a starless night sky. She was beautiful. "I- How?" "We pooled our allowances." Eddie didn't know how much they got, but he knew how quickly they blew through it. There was no way. Eddie's eyes drifted beyond the kids, finding Steve.

Steve, who'd given Eddie a card, claiming that he didn't have a present yet, hadn't known what to get him. Steve, who'd looked embarrassed when Eddie had called the party a great present and meant it. Steve, whose guilty smile all but confirmed him as majority contributor to the beautiful instrument in Eddie's lap. Steve, who Eddie would have to find a way to thank, to explain what this meant.

For now, Eddie smiled back.

[thefreakandthehair]

I am a river / I am your river

written for ‘pool’ | wc: 442 | rated: m | cw: fake drowning (for training purposes) | @steddiemicrofic

It’s stupid. 

Steve’s been a lifeguard every summer since landing his teaching gig four years ago. He was co-captain of the swim team in high school, he’s spent more time in the water than he has on land since he was old enough to doggy-paddle, and he teaches basic CPR to the junior lifeguards. It makes no sense, then, that he’s wasting a valuable mid-summer Tuesday at the community pool for his biennial CPR certification class. At what point does experience trump arbitrary certification renewals? 

It’s stupid– until it’s not. 

Steve sees the fake-victim he’s supposed to pretend-rescue walking toward the pool and his own heart skips a few beats. Long, dark, curly hair sits in a messy bun on top of his head, tattoos litter his arms, chest, and torso visible with no shirt to cover them, and his swim trunks are just short enough to tease Steve with defined, hairy thighs. 

His immediate thought is a desperate need to bite them but he doesn’t have time to unpack that before the instructor starts barking instructions. 

“Rescuer, ready?”

“Ready.” Steve replies, trying to focus on the goal here. The goal being Rescue the fake drowning victim as much as Do not pop a boner mid-pool.

“Victim, ready?” 

“As ever.” Fake Victim’s voice is deeper than Steve expects and that does Steve zero favors in the way of his secondary goal.

“Go ahead and get ready to submerge, all the way to the bottom.”

“Alright,” the instructor turns to Steve. “Get him out onto the concrete and start CPR procedures. Thirty seconds. On my whistle.”

The whistle blows and Steve reacts immediately. It’s second nature, jumping into the pool and into action. He’s done this dozens of times between training and real emergencies, so swimming out to the center and pulling Fake Victim up onto his back at the surface takes no time at all. 

He must be an actor, or maybe a former theater kid, because he’s limp in Steve’s hands, complete dead weight. Steve would be concerned he’s actually nearly drowned if not for the one eye that cracks open and smirk that stretches across his face. 

“Hi handsome, come here often?” He teases with a wink before Steve reaches the edge and hauls him up onto the concrete, laying him on his back. 

Steve leans over and tries to focus, water falling from his hair in thick droplets as he gets in position for faux chest compressions and grins. “Oh, you know, just when I need to rescue pretty boys.”

Fake Victim’s eyebrows shoot up beneath his bangs as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m Eddie.”

[vecnuthy]

Slingin' 🍦⚓️

second entry for @steddiemicrofic pool | wc: 442 | rated: G | cw: a little suggestive at the end

It was the hottest day of the year yet. Mall culture drew the masses, and the masses had flooded Scoops, which was currently manned by only Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington.

The space? Packed.

The line? Through the door.

The sticky ice cream residue smeared across their uniforms caught on their forearms, snagging at their skin as they worked up a sweat in the ice cream shop. They didn't have time to clear tables, clean up spills, or take out the trash, let alone deal with the typical bullshit banter that customers threw at them.

"We're out of peppermint stick."

"How? That's literally your least popular flavor."

It took everything in Robin to just smile flatly. Steve, however, couldn't hold back his exasperation as he threw his head back with an eye roll, pushed through the door to the back, then re-emerged with a challengingly deadpanned, "We're out."

He's pretty sure their ordering a USS Butterscotch was petty revenge. Whatever. It was only the seventh banana split he'd had to assemble in the last hour. His eye didn't twitch or anything.

After that, he and Robin swapped out. Figured it was time, since Steve had been scooping ice cream for so long. No other reason.

"Captain," the next customer greeted with a smirk.

Steve couldn't help but smile.

"What can I get you, sailor?"

"Oh, 'sailor' today," the customer said. Steve shot an amused look of warning. "I see."

Steve took in their appearance — deeply sleeveless band tee, flushed skin, sparkling brown eyes, curly hair in a low bun — as they mulled over options.

"Scoop of chocolate in a cup with a waffle sail, please," they smirked, placing a bill in Steve's open hand.

"You could've just gotten a cone," Steve replied, gathering change.

"Not the same, big boy."

Steve's lips curled up into a smile as he grabbed a spoon, stuck it in the scoop next to the artfully-placed wedge (nice, Robin), and handed the cup to Eddie.

"Aww, no baby spoon?"

"We're out." Steve glanced at his lips.

Eddie's eyes shifted to peer over Steve's shoulder to the well-stocked container.

"I'll eat it too fast."

"Aww," Steve gave a faux sympathetic pout. "Guess you'll have to get another scoop."

Eddie hummed then raised the cup in thanks with, "Birdie."

Robin saluted, and Eddie settled into a seat with a full view of Steve at the counter.

Through the hustle, Steve couldn't help but look over and take in Eddie slowly eating a big spoonful of ice cream. How his lips contoured the lump of chocolate. With full eye contact.

Steve overshot a cup, making strawberry milkshake pool onto his shoes.

[supervillainny]

Fernando

written for @steddiemicrofic July prompt ‘pool’ wc: #442 | rated: T

“Hey, it’s your birthday,” Gareth said, shrugging, and Eddie looked down at the money they’d pooled together, tip money and busking money and a crisp five from Jeff’s Gram.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, pinching the bridge of his nose and readying his rant, but Jeff had already swept up all of the assorted currency and was headed towards the bar with Purpose. Eddie lurched halfway to his feet, hand outstretched, but Gareth grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shoved him back down into the booth.

“Enjoy your dance,” he said, like an order, like a threat.

It wasn’t the kind of place that Eddie came to, not ever, more used to dim lights and filthy bathroom floors than whatever the hell this rainbow-lit mirrored confection of a bar was. So he was kinda disoriented, unfamiliar with the easy exits, and before his craning got him anything useful there was a pair of absurdly high-cut sparkly shorts blocking his view.

At least any and all involuntary noises he might’ve made were drowned out by the opening notes of –

“Christ, Wham? Seriously?”

“Hey,” the dancer said, and crossed his arms over a chest that, honestly, Eddie had thought they were supposed to wax, but there was no way he was going to complain about it. He managed to tear his eyes away so he could look the guy in the face, see the ridiculous scowl that was scrunching a strangely familiar face. “Hey, Wham are the best.”

“Wham are the audio equivalent of the missionary position,” Eddie snapped back, thoughtless as he chased the thread of recognition, and then his mouth dropped open. “Wait, Harrington?”

Even in the aggressively pink light of their section of the bar, it was clear that Steve Harrington – Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, silver-spoon sucker and Hawkins High Prom King - was blushing a fiery red, his cheeks and his neck and his chest and the tips of his ears, and somehow it was that and not the shorts that dried Eddie’s mouth out and stole all his words away.

“Never heard of him,” Harrington said through gritted teeth, and – in a blatant disregard for bar policy – curled one hand behind Eddie’s knee and tugged him closer to the edge of the booth, not stopping until Eddie was arranged to his satisfaction, turned sideways to face out towards the dancefloor, Steve standing between his spread legs.

“Wait, wasn’t his name Fernando?” Jeff asked, somewhere in another universe, and Eddie groaned for – honestly, a multitude of reasons.

“ABBA?” he said hopelessly. “Really?”

“Shut the fuck up, Munson,” Harrington said, “and enjoy your dance.”

[mixsethaddams]

First prompt for @steddiemicrofic 😸

Pool.

Rated G.

442 words.

No cws/tws

**********************

They didn’t have to pretend in the pool.

Summer heat drove the whole party into Steve Harrington’s back yard. He didn’t protest for the first year ever but no one was paying close enough attention to wonder why. All they cared about was cooling off.

It they looked closely, they might realise that it was the first year Eddie was there too.

It was normal for people to touch and hug and get close in the deep water. No one passed a comment or shot a look. Everyone else did it too.

Steve could reach out and wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. It was exactly like two friends goofing around. Eddie could put his hands on Steve’s thighs to lift him up, guiding long legs around his waist. Nothing out of place about dunking someone under the water in the name of winning a game that no one knew the rules of.

They could steal a precious moment in the clear blue, eyes stung red from chlorine, to kiss. Just for a second, just barely. Like a dream in the shimmer. To an outsider it was nothing more than the game continuing. A scuffle before they surfaced, smiling wide.

No one knew about them yet. They liked the secrecy of it. Not because they liked lying to their friends or not telling them things, but because it felt safer than way. They could protect it between their bodies while they lay in bed, they could keep it safe if it was just between them.

They trusted their friends, sure, but they trusted each other more.

Neither of them knew exactly when they’d be ready to tell everyone. They had things they still needed to talk about, plans to iron out, insecurities to assuage. Steve especially had a lifetime of should-be’s to overcome. Eddie would kiss him softly and promise to be there for every step he needed to take.

They wanted to watch movies with everyone, hand in hand. They wanted to kiss on the deck, instead of under the water. They wanted to be, as much as they could be, normal.

More than anything though, they wanted it to be perfect. Needed it. For the slew of questions that would undoubtedly come their way as soon as they told people hey, we’re in love, they wanted to have all the answers ready to go.

It was a long road to perfect, and the road, as Eddie liked to joke when they did have those long conversations, hushed in the dark, hidden under the covers of a secret sleepover, goes ever on and on.

But until then, they had the pool.

[xenon-demon]

breaking the ice

written for the prompt 'pool' | word count: 442 | rating: T | cw: swearing, alcohol mention (they're in a bar), suggestive flirting but nothing explicit, background rockie (robin/vickie)

A/N: if you're not aware already, @steddiemicrofic is doing a monthly challenge where you get a prompt and a (strict!) word count between 300-600 words, so this is written for the july prompt! this was a Lot of fun and i highly recommend giving it a shot if you have time <3 also if you don't play pool: 'breaking'/'the break' is what it's called when you start the game by hitting the cue ball into the rest of the balls to scatter them.

–––––––––––––––––––

One of Steve’s favorite things about Vickie is her knack for finding really cool places to hang out.

Tonight, the three of them have landed at a pool lounge. Steve hasn’t played pool in years, not since he moved out of his parents’ home and lost access to their table. Robin has never played a game of pool in her life, so Vickie – apparently a regular here – is oh-so-generously offering to teach her. Steve can see the flush spreading across Robin’s face from the other side of the table, so he excuses himself to head to the bar for a drink; he doesn’t want to get hit by a stray pool cue while Robin's distracted.

Steve orders himself a beer, aiming to thread the needle between “sober enough to drive them home later” and “drunk enough to third wheel without crying about it”. He loiters at the bar after getting his drink, not wanting to interrupt the girls, when the loud clatter of pool balls catches his attention.

Steve turns his head towards the noise and oh, shit. There’s a guy a couple tables over who’s just broken, pool balls spinning out across the table, but that’s not where Steve’s looking. He’s looking at the man’s ass in those jeans as he leans forward – the sight makes something in Steve want to sink his teeth in. Steve watches the guy straighten up and pace around the table, evaluating the outcome of his break. It lets Steve take in the rest of him; the glint of his rings under the dim lights, the dark curly hair cascading around his shoulders, the doe-like eyes that are looking right at Steve.

The guy grins. Winks at Steve.

Game on, Steve thinks.

“I think this is supposed to be a two-player game,” Steve says as he reaches the guy’s table. He somehow looks even better up close.

“Maybe I like playing with myself," says the guy, giving Steve a (pretty blatant, if you ask Steve) once-over. Well, if he wants shameless, Steve can absolutely do shameless. It might even distract him from how nice the guy's voice is.

“Maybe so. But I think you're looking for someone else to do it for a change." That lights a spark in the guy's eyes, a flash of hunger that darkens them. He leans in. 

“I'm Eddie. What's your name, pretty boy?" Something swoops in Steve's gut at the pet name.

"Steve."

"So, Steve," Eddie drawls, his eyes flicking down to Steve's lips momentarily. "Think you can handle playing with me?"

Steve smiles, wide and eager. "Only if you buy me a drink when I win."

[wynnyfryd]

at the bottom you’ll find all our friends

written for the July @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pool’ | wc: 442 | rated: M | CW: canonical MCD, ambiguous ending, angst, isolation, violent imagery, dark themes. Steve Harrington is having A Time (™) | title from ‘At the Bottom’ by Brand New

Steve’s at the bottom of the pool.

There is no water.

It is not empty.

Blood pours over the walls, oozes like black sludge, a slow molasses creep of sickly tar toward his feet, and it’s thick and it’s cold when it seeps into his shoes, slithers up the hem of his jeans. Frigid filth around his ankles; concrete shackles. Locked knees.

The wall ripples; splits.

Mucosal membrane, monstrous mother; the demogorgon shrieks as it shoves its way through, and from somewhere behind it, somewhere beyond, Eddie screams ‘run,’ but Eddie’s gone and Steve can’t move and the flower petal throat of the beast unfurls before him, roaring like the blood in his ears. Blood everywhere; blood on the walls, in his eyes.

He wakes up sweating.

🩸

In the morning, Steve peers over the edge of the diving board and sighs. Gate’s bigger. Always is.

🩸

Eddie died in March.

Steve knows because he carried his corpse back out of hell, beat his hands against its chest and broke three of its ribs before Nancy said ‘Steve! Enough! Do you want to die, too?’

Great question, Nance.

The trouble is, Eddie doesn’t stay dead. Takes to haunting Steve’s nightmares: water turned to pouring blood; screaming monsters; Eddie’s cries. A gate that doesn’t disappear when he wakes.

Months of this.

He should do something. End it.

Do you want to die, too?

But every night Eddie comes one step closer, feels a little more alive. He sings to Steve in daylight now, humming sweetly through the gate.

Steve loves him so much his gums ache.

Tonight he rips the monster’s throat out with his teeth, and Eddie steps over the carcass like he’s doing a little jig.

“You’re shaking,” he frowns, cupping Steve’s face.

“Just tired.”

“Of missin’ me?” A rugged smirk, scar splitting through his dimple. Eddie rubs their mouths together. “Just miss me that much?”

“Yes.”

When they kiss, it tastes like blood.

🩸

Steve starts sleeping in the yard, a chair pulled to the water’s edge. “Come home,” Eddie sings.

Please. “Show me how.”

🩸

“Steve…” Robin’s smile is too watery; reminds him of gates pulsing twelve feet below. “Steve, you look-”

“I’m fine.”

Brave face, big eyes. She can see the red all over him. “You’re fine.”

🩸

He’s on the diving board again, toes wiggling over the ledge. Weights around his ankles. The gate’s so big and bright it burns.

Steve closes his eyes against the shine, smiles to himself when he hears Eddie’s music, sweet and strong through the wound in the world. Come home, sweetheart, come home.

“I’m comin’, baby.”

He steps over the edge.

[laundrybiscuits]

written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt: 'pool' | wc: 442 | rated: G | cw: mild alcohol use (and cussing I guess? do we warn for PG-13 language?)

“Get in on this, Steve,” Robin says directly into his ear, way too loud. She’s had most of a Long Island iced tea; her face is bright pink.

“In on what,” Steve says, shoving at her.

“Nancy thinks Eddie’s gonna strike out again, but I believe in tru-u-ue lo-o-ove,” she warbles, clinging to his arm like a tipsy limpet. “So we’re betting. Five bucks. Who’re you siding with.”

It’s not like Steve hadn’t noticed Eddie talking to some guy, he'd just thought—

He swats at her again, futilely. “Yeah, I’m sure some random asshole at a dive bar is his true love.”

“Please, that’s probably Eddie's idea of a metalhead fairytale. They’re gonna make scuzzy little musician babies.”

“Do we have to talk about the birds and the bees, Robin?” He glances over at Nancy, listing against Jonathan’s side. Steve fights the urge to push Robin away again, but he shifts uncomfortably. The four of them probably look like interlopers here—tourists.

Nancy’s not flushed like Robin, but she looks a little looser than she’s let herself be in a while. It’s nice.

She’s smiling as she watches Eddie and the random asshole. “Eddie’s not doing too badly this time. Guess there’s someone for everyone.”

“Don't bias Steve,” whines Robin. “I want his money.”

“I’m not gonna bet, this is stupid,” says Steve. “It’s shitty to start a betting pool on Eddie’s—love life, or whatever.”

“They’re just having fun, man,” says Jonathan. “We all just want Eddie to be happy.”

“Sure. Some random asshole’s gonna make him happy.” Steve leans back against the bar, folding his arms.

“Steve.” Robin’s staring at him. “Oh my god, Steve. Wait. Steve.”

He winces.

“Steve,” she says. “Do you—”

“No. Shut up,” says Steve.

Jonathan glances from Steve to Robin to Eddie, and back to Steve. “Oh, shit,” he says. “Dude. Uh. Not to like, betray any confidences, but. You should tell him.”

“Wait, what?” Steve blinks. The jack and coke he's been nursing might be hitting. “You mean…”

Robin shoves him hard enough that he almost overbalances. “Go get your man! Team True Love!” She’s not even trying to be quiet. Across the bar, Eddie jumps a little and turns to stare back at them.

Steve’s face warms. He waves, like a loser, and Eddie’s expression goes from confused to something else. Something new.

Eddie touches the random asshole’s arm, but whatever he says makes the guy laugh and fuck off, so that's okay.

As Steve pushes away from the bar and starts to walk towards Eddie's growing smile, he hears Nancy saying, “I think this means you owe me,” while Robin shrieks, “Oh, like hell—”

[aidaronan]

You, Like Me

Rated M || Tags & Warnings: Blood, Internalized Homophobia, Vampires For @steddiemicrofic's July prompt: Pool It started with a pool of vomit and ended with a pool of blood.

"When?" Eddie asked, staring at Steve with brown-red eyes in the pits of hell.

"Yesterday." Steve figured he didn't really have to describe it, but he did anyway. The cold sweat, the nausea, the way the bites had burned and itched so much he thought he'd have to claw his fucking skin off to make it stop. "Hit me last night that if I…"

Eddie's mouth twitched. "Sweet of you to think of me, Steve."

"I came to get you."

"Oh, did you now?" Eddie looked ragged, clothes shredded on his slight body, bites standing out in shades of mottled pink, already looking like years-old scars. Steve's hands itched to see if they felt like his own.

"Do you remember Jeremy Tompkins' grad party?"

"Oh I remember. Do you know that was Corroded's first ever paying gig? We got a cool twenty bucks from Mommy Tompkins to cover gas for the van." Eddie's faced softened a bit, wistfulness smoothing the sharp edges before falling away and leaving behind marble in its place. "Your point?"

"I've known I had a thing for guys forever. I kept pretending I didn't, telling myself I was imagining it, telling myself it didn't matter anyway because what the hell could I do about it, right?"

Eddie tilted his head in a way that was distinctly inhuman. "I think I like where this is headed, Steve."

"I stood in the back that night and pretended I didn't care. But I watched you. I watched the way your hand wrapped around that shitty mic. I watched the way you rolled your hips into your guitar."

"Keep going."

"I wanted you. I think that's why I hated you when you started hanging around, not because of some stupid, uh, repression or whatever. But because it was easier to pretend to hate you than to admit I wanted your mouth on my neck."

"You can't say the words 'mouth on my neck' anymore, Steve." And even standing several feet away, Steve could feel Eddie's eyes boring into the skin of his throat. Fair. His own eyes had been doing the same to Eddie's since he'd spotted him.

"Better if we try it on each other than risk it being someone else."

"Touche." A beat, then a slowly-growing smirk. "Okay then, Stevie. Come get it."

In another life, Steve would have--could have--resisted. In this one, he couldn't, didn't. He closed the distance, sinking his teeth in, blood pooling in his mouth and in the hollow of Eddie's clavicle.

It tasted of iron and salt and the sweetest relief.

[gerrystamour]

i belong to all of your mysteries [steddie microfic]

Written for prompt: POOL | 442 words | Explicit CW: Semi-public oral sex, snowballing, transmasc Steve Harrington

‘Should come to the pool more often,’ Eddie thought hazily as he fucked the perfect mouth of the prettiest lifeguard in the empty locker room after hours... Written for the @steddiemicrofic prompt POOL, and the word count is exactly 442 words somehow! Filth under the cut

[ READ ON AO3 ]

‘Should come to the pool more often,’ Eddie thought hazily as he fucked the perfect mouth of the prettiest lifeguard in the empty locker room after hours.

Eddie gasped, eyes fluttering back as the stiff length of his cock slid between the plush ring of Steve’s lips. They were red, swollen and chafed from Eddie’s biting kiss earlier, a smear of blood across the top lip from one of their teeth when they collided. It was obscene, the way those lips hugged his dick while spit bubbled at the corners on every thrust inside.

Leaning forward on one forearm against the wall, Eddie practically pinned Steve against it as he tangled his other hand in his hair, thrusting his cock harder and deeper. Steve moaned and opened his throat, the noise vibrating up Eddie’s core and pulling a hiss from his throat. Heat grew in Eddie’s gut, his release building embarrassingly quickly.

Not bothering to warn Steve, Eddie came hard and choked Steve with the first spurt of cum. Groaning, Eddie opened his eyes to watch Steve’s blissful expression, eyes half-lidded as they blinked up at Eddie adoringly.

Eddie pulled out as his cock softened, but his eyes widened when Steve kept his mouth open, showing off the pool of cum and spit around his sinful, perfect tongue. Nostrils flaring with his next inhale, Eddie stepped back to take in the rest of the vision Steve made with his legs spread wide, a puddle of slick growing on the locker room floor where it dripped from his sweet cunt.

Moaning hungrily, Steve spat his mouthful onto his hand and rubbed the milky, slimy mixture between his fingers, testing the texture. Then Steve lowered his hand to slide his cum-slicked fingers over his dick and into his cunt. Eddie’s ears rang as he watched Steve jerk himself off, adding Eddie’s spend to the mess between his thighs in what was probably the hottest display Eddie had ever seen, period.

When Steve came, he did so almost silently with his eyes rolling back in his head, his swollen lips parted in a pretty O that Eddie was torn between wanting to kiss, slap, or fuck.  By the time Steve pulled his hand away from himself, Eddie was half-hard again, nearly ready for round two.

Steve got him the rest of the way there when he lifted that hand to his own mouth, licking the combination of their spend off his skin.

Crashing to his knees in a way Eddie knew he’d regret later, Eddie hauled Steve into his lap and sat his tight, wet cunt on his dick, swallowing Steve’s startled, but happy moan.

Taglist peeps who might be interested! @scarcrossdlvrs @patchworkgargoyle @mylilplanet @matchingbatbites @xenon-demon @steddieas-shegoes @afewproblems @steddie-there @inairbinad @stobinesque @sidekick-hero @scoops-stevie @rugbertgoeshome @spectrum-spectre @hellion-child @starryeyedjanai (if u see me tagging u suddenly it's bc i was in a hurry earlier and somehow missed u on my taglist doc i'm sorrryyyyyyy)

[wormdebut]

STEDDIE MICROFIC JULY: STEVE NO FUN HARRINGTON

@steddiemicrofic | Word: Pool | Word Count: 442 Rated: T (for swears, it’s a Worm Drabble of course there are swears) | CW: none

——

“You’re literally no fun, Steven.” Dustin sniped turning on his heel to go jump back into the pool.

“Yup that’s me, Steve No Fun Harrington. Use my pool, eat my food, play your stupid dumbbells and dingbats game in my living room, but god forbid you have fun.” Steve mumbles under his breath reaching for his beer.

He almost knocked the damn thing over when he felt a hand clap his shoulder, hot breath next to his ear, “Dumbbells and Dingbats huh? Better not let their DM hear you talk shit, baby, I hear he can be a little mean.”

Steve leans his head back to knock into his very hot boyfriends chest. Eddie and Steve has just kinda…fell into each others space after everything in March and four months later, Steve had absolutely zero complaints.

He juts his bottom lip out looking up at Eddie. He probably looked ridiculous, but Eddie looked at Steve like he hung the moon and Steve was 100% sure he returned that gaze whenever he had the chance.

Eddie laughs placing a quick kiss on Steve’s nose.

“What’d Henderson do this time?” Eddie asked as Steve sat back up his chair.

“How’d you know it was Henderson?”

Eddie dramatically plopped into the seat next to him, looking at him with a raised brow and a smirk. “You trying to tell me it wasn’t?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh, Eddie always had a way of mellowing him out. “You know how it is, they just want me in the damn pool and I don’t wanna be in the damn pool Eddie.”

Steve watched as Eddie face shifted, inquisitive. He knew Eddie wanted to ask but Steve also knew that he wouldn’t. They knew each other well enough at this point to leave certain things unsaid.

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but was met with a chorus of greeting from the kids before he could.

Eddie waved them off, telling them he’d join them in a few, before turning back to Steve.

“Do you wanna just come sit at the edge? It is pretty fucking hot Stevie, and you’re already smokin’, so maybe dipping your feet in wouldn’t be such a bad idea?”

Steve laughed, Eddie was a ham and he loved it.

Loved him.

Eddie stood up, running a hand through Steve’s hair, “I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

Steve looked up at him again, he was sure there were hearts where his eyes were supposed to be. “Promise?”

Steve let himself be pulled up, Eddie placing a quick to his lips before dragging him to the edge of the pool.

“Yeah baby, I promise.”

——

[flowercrowngods]

the prompt: pool | rating: G | cw: none as per popular request: yearning (requited)

Ripples of light dance across his skin in hues of silver and blue and Steve wonders if Eddie knows how it steals his breath, how it makes him want to trail the light’s path from Eddie’s chest up to his cheeks where the tiniest of smiles leaves dimples that have become so achingly familiar these days.

It leaves him jealous, for just a second, the way that the light is allowed to touch Eddie so intimately. The way it gets to make him look like that.

It leaves Steve with that familiar ache in his chest, reminding him that he doesn't know Eddie like that. No matter how often he dreams it up, no matter how many times Eddie occupies his every waking thought to the point where they have entire conversations that will never happen.

It leaves him aching with the need to touch, to feel, to taste. And, most pressingly, to tell.

You're beautiful. You're captivating. You're everything.

The words rest on the tip of his tongue even now, in the deepest part of the night where silence reigns, allowing even terrified boys to rest their minds — but not their hearts. Not their needs. Not their skin tingling with phantom touch that they keep dreaming up night after night after night.

Steve swallows and tears his eyes away from the droplets of water that drip down the curled ends of Eddie’s hair, landing on his chest, his legs, or the pool beneath him. He doesn’t make it far, though, captivated instead by hooded eyes that refuse to look away once their gazes lock.

Cool water lapping at the skin of his legs where he's sitting on the edge of the pool is the only thing that keeps him anchored as Eddie looks at him like that across the water that separates them.

Water, and a plethora of words unsaid, silent confessions in the deepest night that feel like so much more than wishful thinking right now.

Especially when Eddie's smile widens, painted with a silver brush that catches every droplet as though they were stars and Eddie the night sky.

"I could stay here forever," he sighs, his exhale gentle and heavy at the same time.

Steve wants to sink into the pool, wants the cold water to surround him and clear his head, wash away the aching, the yearning, the words on the tip of his tongue.

Tell me, then. Tell me how I get you to stay.

"You can," is all he says, the water rippling in time with his rapidly beating heart.

"Yeah? Willing to keep me, Stevie?"

When Steve nods, breathless, Eddie's silver-streaked smile widens.

🌷written for @steddiemicrofic

[hotluncheddie]

popsicle

written for @steddiemicroficJuly prompt 'pool' !

wc: 442 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: chubby steve, horny eddie

:3c :3c :3c :3c :3c :3c :3c

steve harrington is sucking on a popsicle. 

that in itself? revolutionary. 

but eddies issue is not just with a phallic nature of the popsicle. no, that comes later. his real issue is the overall picture the need for a popsicle creates. 

because it is, currently, hot as balls. 

so hot it makes steve insist they sit outside the oven of the trailer, in the shade of the awning. the heat makes steve sprawl out on the sofa there, letting the sun just catch on his legs and add to the golden tan he’s been developing over the past couple weeks. it’s the way every part of him has a sheen to it, like he’s glistening, glimmering.. and eddie knows it’s sweat. but eddie just doesn’t care because it means steve’s shirt is starting to stick to him, the white beginning to go see-through, the pink of his nipple just becoming visible. 

so eddie’s suffering, from where he’s crouched on the sofa’s armrest, like a fucking gargoyle, but can you really blame him? he’s looking at an angel. 

but guess what? theres more.

see steve’s got his arm up, resting on his head and that’s what makes the volcano inside of eddie come alive. steve with his arm up pulls his t-shirt up and that causes the soft, hairy expanse of steve lower belly to be exposed. shows a peek of softened hip, marred with scars and beautiful. his position highlights the soft curve of his belly that juts and sits above the waistband of his shorts. shorts that were once just a little too short but now a little too narrow too. in a way that is becoming down right obscene. 

and eddie’s brain is melting.

because eddie knows that if steve sat up straight right now that belly would pool out and sit on the top of his thighs. his t-shirt would probably stick under the little roll at his side, where his love handles have become just close to a handful. probably stick just under his pecks too, cling to how they’ve rounded out, soft and firm at the same time and still so deliciously hairy and eddie is just about ready to cry at the thought.

but eddie doesn’t have the words to describe how the image in front of him makes him feel. the burning it creates in his stomach. he keeps his jaw clenched tight out of fear his tongue will lol out across the sofa, his heart eyes leap out of his head on little springs.

steve deep throats the posicle.

the volcano inside eddie is ready to erupt.  

‘what’r you looking at?’ steve asks.

‘nothing!’ 

[thruheavenandhighwater]

You Don't Swim

Written for @steddiemicrofic

Prompt: Pool

Word Count: 442

Rating: G

Content Warning: Trauma from events in season 1. I'm sure something like this has already been done but I had the idea and couldn't shake it.

Eddie notices that Steve never uses his own pool. Established relationship.

~~~~~

"You don't swim." 

The announcement was accompanied by Eddie's sudden presence in the lawn chair beside him. 

"What?" 

"You don't swim," Eddie repeated. Steve didn't answer, only adjusted his sunglasses and settled deeper into his own chair. "It's your pool and you're the only one who doesn't use it. Well, you and Nance. But I guess she just wants to keep her hair nice." 

"Don't worry about it," Steve told him, trying to sound casual. 

"I'm just sayin'."

"Eddie," Steve sighed. 

"Everyone else splashes around and has a good time." 

"Drop it." 

"But you two just sit here, dry and tan like a -"

"Eddie, I said drop it." 

Steve's sudden and loud outburst shocked everyone in the yard. All eyes were on him, but his eyes were fixed on Eddie. Even behind the dark tint on his sunglasses, it was easy to see the anger in his eyes. 

Steve pushed himself from his chair and walked into the house, all but slamming the sliding glass door behind him. Robin swam to the edge of the pool and started to pull herself out to follow him. Eddie stood, putting one hand out to her, as he followed Steve himself. 

He found Steve alone in the kitchen, tanned back facing Eddie as he hunched over the island. 

"Stevie," Eddie called softly, pulling the door closed. Steve's shoulders tensed at his voice. 

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I know," Eddie told him. "Just wanna say I'm sorry if I like, pushed a button or something." 

Steve's shoulders relaxed before finally slumping. Eddie took a few steps closer before placing his hands tentatively on Steve's back. He melted into the touch and turned around. Eddie pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders as Steve clung to his waist. 

"Sorry for yellin'," he said sadly into Eddie's shoulder. 

"'S'okay." 

"There was… an accident… a few years ago."

"What kinda accident?" 

"The Upside Down kind." Eddie tightened his hold on Steve. "Only me, Nance, and Jon know. And don't you dare ever ask her about it." 

"I won't." Eddie whispered. "Ya know, you could tell me about it, if you ever wanted to." 

Steve nodded against Eddie's shoulder. "Promise I will someday. But not today."

"Okay, baby," Eddie answered. 

They rejoined the party a few minutes later. Steve's outburst was forgotten as the party splashed and yelled and played in the water. Eddie jumped in to join them, doing his best to seem unphased by Steve's admission. But he kept his eyes on those two lawn chairs a few feet away and the two troubled young faces that now occupied them. 

[atimeofyourlife]

No blood in the water

written for @steddiemicrofic prompt: pool wc: 442 | rated: t | cw: mentions of menstruation, implied gender dysphoria | tags: trans Steve, coming out

Steve watched from the edge as Robin, Eddie, and the kids made the most of the pool. They were playing, shouting, and just generally having a good time. After everything, and over two years of avoiding it, he was taking every chance to make happy memories in his pool again. Even if it meant dealing with seven rowdy kids on almost every nice day of the summer. 

He had been slowly building up to getting back in the pool, from the pool chairs, to the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, to getting into the pool, to finally being able to spend time swimming again. But this time, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t force himself into the pool, only sitting on the edge. He hadn’t even changed into swimming trunks, instead choosing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

It was one of those days he hated his body, where everything felt like a betrayal. He couldn’t go shirtless, because it felt like the scars under his pecs were too obvious about what they really were. Swimming trunks were also a bit of a no-go, because they would cling and show off everything that he didn’t have. They weren’t even an option, because he needed to wear briefs for somewhere to stick a fucking pad. Because his period had made a surprise appearance that morning, and he was out of tampons.

He was incredibly anxious about anyone finding out. Robin was the only one he’d willingly told, in a bathroom floor conversation a week after Starcourt. Dustin had found out by accident when he overheard Steve awkwardly having to ask Claudia if she had any pads or tampons he could use when he’d started unexpectedly during a dinner with them. Everyone else had no clue, and he wanted to keep it that way, terrified of what would happen if anyone else found out. Especially Eddie, who he’d flirted with, and made out with a few times, but never going further than light touches.

He managed to avoid the pestering of everyone to get in, but Mike’s words cut deep.

“You’re acting like Nancy when she’s on her period.”

Steve gave a thin excuse to go inside, feeling like he’d had a bucket of water thrown over him.

“Stevie?” Eddie followed him in. “Don’t listen to Mike, he’s being an asshole.”

“But what if it’s true?” Steve burst out. “What if I am on my period? What if I’m transsexual?”

“That’s why you’re not swimming?” Eddie kissed Steve’s neck. “I’d say you’re still the prettiest boy I know. Just something new I know about you.”