#stevie💛

[offthewall1979]

idk if i'd ever get a tattoo bc i'm very afraid of needles but mannn i'd love to get "kindness knows no shame" i love that lyric i LOVE it

[pretty-pup-stevie]

ok, i love the new blog theme like love love love ittttt

Thank you thank you thank you!!!! :D

[superblysubpar]

totally cried off my make up by the time I had enough liquid courage for a fit reveal here. Next time 😅

I am a MESS. Finishing editing wcil in the car and then IM DONE, her magic is all I needed.

[vahanians]

the fact of the matter is she’s the industry darling, the songwriter of the decade, all of the industry legends praise her and adore her, and everyone will be forced to listen to her until the end of time 😩💛

[roguebebe]

#she's what i think i look like

No, but actually... She IS what you look like. Y'know, except white. And with straight hair. And a completely different face. But you get it.

LMAO i’m so glad i got the gender vibes down 🤭

[alwaysurvalentine]

marry me (if I ever get the nerve) - st fic

Based on a prompt from my @steddiebingo 12 Days of Christmas card: 'proposal'

wc: 2.4k | cw: none

enjoy! 💛

~

One.

A crowd is blocking the pathway when Eddie and Steve round the corner. Steve cranes his neck to see around the crowd and then scoffs. 

“What, what is it?” Eddie’s trying to see through the people in front of him, but every time he shifts, they do too. 

“Someone’s proposing in the middle of the park. Can’t even imagine how embarrassed she feels right now. Can you imagine?” 

Steve continues to rant, one hand waving in the air while he vents and the other one tugging Eddie along the edges of the crowd to get past. 

Marriage has been brought up between them before, an idea that seemed nice but somehow far away. Even without saying it, Eddie knew it was something that Steve wanted. It’d been an easy plan from there: save up money for a ring, pop the question, and then marry the fuck out of Steve Harrington. So far all Eddie had done was start saving for a ring. 

He stumbled upon the perfect ring just last month, a simple gold band with the option to engrave the inside. Right now he can’t decide what he wants to put there, but he figures he’s still got some time to think about it.

“Like what if she wants to say no? He’s basically put her in a situation where she has to say yes and then go back on that answer later.”

There’s genuine distress in Steve’s voice at this stranger having to deal with this. Eddie squeezes his hand and offers a placating smile. Up ahead is the cafe they’d been heading towards in the first place. For once there isn’t a line and Eddie lets go of Steve’s hand just to open the door and bow. 

“My love.”

All of the tension building up in Steve leaves him with a roll of his eyes and he smiles when he steps in before Eddie. Even though Steve wasn’t a fan of the couple they saw, Eddie sends a quick thanks because now he knows. 

Absolutely no proposing in a crowded public place.

~

Two.

Light always finds Steve. No matter the time of day, if there’s a ray of sunshine, it’s shining on his boyfriend. It’s one of the first things Eddie noticed about him when they started dating. Now is no exception, sun peeking through their blinds to shine on Steve’s face. 

Steve has barely moved from where he left him this morning, mouth slack with a line of drool leading to a small spot on his pillow. Eddie sets the tray holding their breakfast down for a moment, leaning over to swipe the drool away with his thumb. He rubs his hand on his pants and then rests a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Steve’s eyebrows furrow when he wakes, eyes blinking open just to squint shut at the light. 

“C’mon, I made breakfast.” 

Steve yawns and smiles softly, rubbing at his eyes. Eddie grabs the breakfast tray again, orange juice sloshing in the glass but not spilling with the movement. The small smile on Steve’s face turns into a full blown grin and he smooths over the blanket when he sits up. 

The plate of breakfast smiles back at him, bacon curving up towards two eyes made of eggs. A gentle hand takes his wrist and Eddie’s tugged down close enough for Steve to press a kiss against his cheek. 

“Thanks, baby.” Sleep still paints Steve’s words, a roughness there only because of their activities from the night before. An image of Steve on his knees, eyes half lidded and tongue hanging out of his mouth flashes into Eddie’s mind. He’s quick to dismiss it though, trying to stay on task. 

Afterall, this breakfast is serving a purpose. Today is going to be the day that Eddie proposes to Steve. All he’s got to do now is pull the ring out of his bedside table and ask the question. Just a small, intimate setting for his Stevie. 

He leans toward his dresser drawer right as the phone starts to ring. 

“Hello?”

“Oh, uh, hi Eddie. Is Steve there?” Max is on the other end of the line, voice tight.

“One sec.” Eddie passes the phone over easily and mouths that it’s Max on the other end. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

Judging by the face Steve makes at something Max says, this proposal is about to be pushed to another day. When Steve shifts the tray off of his lap and scoots out of bed, Eddie knows he’s right. 

“Woah, hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you called. Give me fifteen and we’ll be there.” Another pause and Steve flashes a grimace in Eddie’s direction. 

“You know he would understand. Okay, okay, yeah, it’ll just be me. See you soon Mayfield.” 

Guilt covers Steve’s face when he turns to Eddie. He tosses the phone back onto the bed and pulls jeans over his boxers. 

“Sorry, Max needs me to help her with something real quick, but I’ll be right back after that. Rain check on breakfast in bed?” 

Disappointment curls in Eddie’s stomach but he nods anyway. “Of course, no worries. Is Red okay?” 

Just as much as the kids are Steve’s in all the ways that matter, Eddie’s adopted them too. If one of them is in trouble, he wants to know. 

“Yeah, just something going on with her mom.”

“Why don’t you bring her back here? I can make some more breakfast and we can all do brunch and watch trash TV.” 

Steve closes the distance between them with a few quick strides, pressing a kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. His hands come to rest on Steve’s hips, keeping him close so he can steal a couple close mouthed kisses before Steve leaves.

“That would be great, I love you.” Another kiss and then Eddie lets him go so Steve can brush his teeth before heading over.

Might need to recruit Robin to help make sure proposing doesn’t get interrupted.

~

Three. 

Tuesdays are date nights.

Eddie doesn’t know if it was on purpose, but the first date he and Steve went on was a Tuesday and now it’s just become tradition. It’s the one day of the week that the gremlins know to let them have their night. 

Tonight, Eddie’s even got Robin helping to run interference. Obviously he had to run this plan by her. They both figured while he’ll be popping the question, doing so over a candlelit dinner without getting on his knee was still lowkey enough for Steve to let it pass. 

(Robin also tried to argue that Steve would be fine with a massive proposal because the only answer he’d have for Eddie would be yes. Her puppy dog eyes aren’t nearly as lethal as Steve’s, so he hadn’t caved.)

Eddie had asked Steve to dress up for dinner tonight for a reservation made at The Grillhouse. They don’t always do fancier dinners, more than happy to dance around the kitchen together instead. Steve had asked what the occasion was and squinted skeptically when Eddie stuttered that he had big news he was excited to share. Despite all of his practice as a DM, he still can’t lie to save his life. Luckily, Steve had dropped it and shifted the focus to a story from work. 

Now Eddie finds his palms sweaty, empty plates sitting between them. This is his window.

“Stevie?”

His boyfriend tilts his head to the side, humming quietly to show he’s listening.

“I brought you to dinner saying I had some big news to share. But really, that news couldn’t be possible without you.” 

Steve’s face softens and he reaches across the table to take one of Eddie’s hands. They sit like that for a moment, Eddie swallowing before reaching into his coat pocket to grab the ring. 

The pocket is kind of deep and all he feels is fabric so he digs in a little further. Still, all he feels is the cotton lining against his fingers. 

And then he realizes. 

He forgot the ring.

He forgot the ring. What is he supposed to tell Steve now?

“I’ve decided to send some of me and the guys’ tapes to some producers.” 

The smile on Steve’s face is bright enough to challenge the sun and Eddie knows he’ll be sending out those tapes this week just so that he hasn’t lied to the man in front of him.

“Holy shit!” A couple of people swivel their heads at the sudden exclamation but Steve doesn’t pay them any mind, raising his glass to Eddie. Never one to leave Steve hanging, he’s quick to lift his own glass for Steve’s toast.

“Congratulations, baby, I’m so proud of you!”

Hot tip: don’t forget the ring.

~

Four.

Steve’s bopping his head as he walks through the kitchen. Everyone’s just cleared out of the apartment after spending the night. He hasn’t been able to convince Steve to play D&D, but it doesn’t mean his boyfriend doesn’t love any opportunity to host. Every couple of weeks their apartment is flooded with the full group, pizza for dinner and then Steve pulls out all of the stops for brunch the next day. 

There’s a pile of dishes waiting to be washed in the sink and a couple of pans left to cool on top of the stove, but like always - Steve’s turned on the radio first. Which works perfectly with Eddie’s plan. 

He’d called the radio station earlier in the week and asked them to play their song so he could propose to the love of his life. The girl on the other end had squealed at the request and let Eddie know she’d email with the time they’d be able to put it into the show. 

When he glances over to check the time, he’s surprised to see that there’s only a a couple of minutes to wait until their song is queued up. He’s got just enough time to run upstairs to grab the ring and then he’ll finally be able to ask. Steve’s just grabbing the pans off of the stove to move them towards the sink when Eddie steps out of the kitchen. 

It seems oddly quiet when Eddie makes it downstairs. Maybe it’s just because of how loud it was last night and this morning.Mumbled cursing welcomes him back into the kitchen and Eddie sees the reason behind the quiet. Their radio is currently cradled in Steve’s hands, eyes locked in on the different dials like it’ll suddenly start working if he looks disappointed enough. 

“Steve?” 

The look of horror on Steve’s face has Eddie chuckling as he walks over.

“I broke the radio.” Genuine heartbreak colors Steve’s words and Eddie takes the radio from his hands with a smile.

“That’s okay, looks like it got some water on it. Did something splash out of the sink?” Steve nods, eyes focused on the radio in Eddie’s hands. 

From what Eddie can tell, they might have to just replace the whole thing, somehow Steve’s managed to get the entirety of the speakers wet. His proposal might’ve been foiled again, but at least he gets a huff of a laugh when he rolls up his invisible sleeves to wash the dishes, bumping Steve out of the way. 

Alright, maybe the radio thing was a little complicated, time to regroup.

~

Plus One.

“Wayne, I feel like I’m losing my mind.” 

His uncle just laughs from his side of the table, coffee cup lifted to his mouth despite the steam rising above it. 

“No, I mean it. I’ve tried proposing to him so many times but I keep messing it up!” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and has to stop for a moment when a ring tugs on his curls. The chipped mug in Wayne’s hand gets set down and he leans back, eyes squinted in a smile while he looks Eddie over.

“Alright, let me get this straight. You wanna propose to your boy?” Eddie nods. “Why don’t you just ask him, plain and simple?” 

“Oh, yeah, just ask him plain and simple. Because that’s totally easy. Have you met him?”

Wayne raises a brow, unimpressed at Eddie’s dramatics. 

“I just want it to be perfect, Uncle Wayne. What if this is like the universe telling me not to do it? Everything keeps going wrong…”

Another sip of coffee and then Wayne leans forward, elbows on the table. “Listen here, you love him?”

“Of course I do.”

“And he loves you?”

Eddie can feel the blush when it spreads across his cheeks. 

“He tells me all the time.” 

“Then I think no matter how you ask him, the only answer he’s going to say is yes. Knowing you two, you could just slide the ring on his finger and Steve would have the wedding planned in a week. What’s really holding you back?” 

Damn Wayne for knowing him so well. 

This answer doesn’t come as easy, dread building in Eddie’s gut while he tries to figure out the best answer. If he voices this and Wayne agrees, he’ll probably never recover.

“C’mon, spit it out.” 

“Whatifhedoesn’tthinkI’mworthbeingstuckwithfortherestofourlives?”

Another unimpressed stare, lips pursed at Eddie’s quick speech.

“Just, what if he doesn’t think it’s worth it? Being stuck with me forever?”

“Eddie, listen up, and listen good. No such thing as being stuck with you. I can tell that he adores you, knew as soon as I saw the two of you together. Just because your old man,” and Wayne pauses when Eddie’s head snaps up, “chose to ignore the gift you are, doesn’t mean other people will. I’ve been lucky enough to see you grow from that scrawny kid angry at the world to the man I see now. You’ve got your own family now, one you built all on your own, and not a single one of them feels like they’re stuck with you. Y’hear me?” 

Eddie wants to feel embarrassed at the tears in his eyes, but instead all he feels is warmth all over - loved. He jumps up and scoots into Wayne’s side of the booth, throwing his arms around the older man’s neck just like he did as a kid. When he backs up, Wayne’s eyes look a little teary themselves.

“Alright, let’s go, I gotta get ready for work.”

(When they get back to the trailer, Eddie opens the door to his own makeshift family crowded around the living room. It takes a moment to take it all in, streamers hanging from the ceiling, balloons all over the floor, and then Steve on one knee with a ring held out. 

It’s an easy yes.)

[hitlikehammers]

regular-guy!Eddie absolutely did not expect the emotional gut-punch of the ✨RED CARPET INTERVIEW✨ from famous!Steve's movie premiere (or: Part Nine)

He kinda already knew that, and sure he feels exactly the same but…

Fuck if hearing it out loud isn’t something else.💛🎥

<<< back to the obligatory dose of lingering insecurity // back to the beginning

It’s a whole eight-and-a-half hours since Steve left, and Eddie’s opening the door to a delivery guy who’s holding a box from Eddie’s favorite bakery. Eddie didn’t even know they did delivery, but like—

He shouldn’t even be fucking surprised anymore. He’s not surprised by how his heart fills, and trips over itself for how clumsy it gets when it’s a giddy-lovedrunk fool like the rest of him, beating Steve-Steve-Steve through his veins, stumbling like it’s never moved before which is true in a way, maybe the biggest way, because this territory of loving his Stevie demands blissfully, and consumes entirely, all that Eddie is in a way he’s never known before, or feltbefore so yeah, yeah his heart can just shiver madly with it as long as it goddamn wants.

(And it wants forever, so.)

And this is apparently who Eddie is, now, what he’s be reshaped into for the love of Steve Harrington. And fuck, but he wouldn’t trade it; wouldn’t change it for anything.

His pulse does an extra little tumble when he unfolds the note waiting for him in the fold of the box:

you are what my heart is for

for always, if you’ll have me

~S <3 <3

He doesn’t fight the way his face stretches into a smile, so soft and just, just…so in love, right, and he laughs with the size of the warmth flooding him when he opens the box to see his favorite donuts—Boston Cream and chocolate glazed—nestled alongside enough varieties of the flakiest, butteriest croissants to feed a small army. He shakes his head and checks the clock: not too late for a coffee, so he goes to the machine and—

Finds it all set up, ready to brew. Cup set next to it and everything, complete with a post-it with another <3 scrawled in the middle, stuck to the handle.

Eddie cannot fight the way his eyes prickle as he switches the machine on and takes the note from the mug, holds it to his chest like it’s precious.

Because it is precious. This feeling, this…this this, is so fucking precious he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He doesn’t know how he found something this profound, this invaluable and dear to its core, to his core, he’s, he just…

If his fucking coffee gets a couple tears in it, he figures that’s just, like, the taste of true fucking love, so he’s actually really goddamn grateful for it.

Maybe it makes him heartsick a little, for how much it already feels like his home is empty without Steve, just for a few hours now, but…he thinks maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be, how he’s supposed to feel.

He…he’s not going to willingly sign up for this feeling way again, though. He’s gonna get over his bullshit and give in to what it feels like to love this big and complete, fuck his discomfort and his hangups, he’s never letting his world feel this dull and bereft again if he can fucking help it.

Maybe he googles tuxedos, then…maybe he googles ‘what do men wear to the red carpet’ because maybe it’s just really nice tailored suits, he doesn’t fucking know, he just knows he’s going to fucking get one, he’s going to buy it himself and have it ready for the next time Steve asks him to come with him, so he can show his Stevie that he’s in this in every way, no caveats, no heartbreak, even the little temporary going-to-work kind.

Then he looks at the clock, bites at his lip, and decides no, it’s not took early to search for the most unhinged network to have started their coverage of the premiere.

Because seriously. He was always gonna fucking watch his boyfriend be amazing, and beautiful, and just…

Everything.

—

Eddie nearly drops his pain au chocolat when he sees Steve’s perfectly swooped hair peek on-screen in the so-far-kinda-interminable premiere coverage. Like…Eddie knows he’s watching with a deeply single-minded goal, but seriously.

How are these other people taking up time that could just be Steve, instead?

Insanity.

“Steven,” the interviewer greets him in that over-friendly way the press has with celebrities, that Eddie always thought was weird as fuck because it’s not like those vultures were the famous people’s friends.

“I hate to say this because it feels cliche,” the woman smiles that sort of apologetic-but-only-because-people-are-watching smile that’s fucking nauseating; “but you’re looking exceptionally striking tonight,” she nods to his outfit, and ‘striking’ is an understatement but then she once-overs him head-to-toe and…

Fuck.

Fuck, but Eddie did not anticipate the welling of rage in his limbs, the protectiveness that surges in him laced with a potent possessiveness he should maybe be ashamed of but…no, he’s fucking not, because his Stevie isn’t a pice of meat and he’ll fucking fight anyone who treats him like a paycheck or a prize or a—

But Steve laughs, and it sounds real, so…Eddie can let it slide.

For now.

“Am I?” Steve asks, playful almost, coquettish—he’s got a handle on this, has these bastards eating out the palm of his goddamn hand and if his masterful command of the encounter from the jump, here, isn’t sexy as fuck, leads to something wholly different but just as red-hot as the protective ire in Eddie leaping through his blood all over again? Well.

Fuck him, then, because: dayum.

The interviewer laughs, comfortable, and Eddie gets the impression that maybe they’ve done this dance before; a lot of times, even. There isn’t camaraderie, there, but there’s a…collegiality.

Eddie will table his desire to key the interviewer’s car and…stuff.

For now.

“Is it weird to tell you you’re glowing?”

Steve does what Eddie imagines is the movie star equivalent of the snort that he lets loose so often, so freely, so unguarded in Eddie’s home, next to Eddie and it’s like his smiles that don’t reach his eyes versus the ones that do.

And Eddie’s fucking floored all over again at what a privilege it is, what a gift he’s living, to know the difference. To be able to hold the difference close.

“Maybe,” Steve huffs across the feed, and Eddie watches the little expressive quirks run across his face, framing that blinding smile because fuck, the man is kinda radiant, but then: Eddie knows for a fact that Steve is radiant always, so it’s not a surprise this lady’s pointing it out.

S’just obvious.

“But I don’t mind at all,” Steve adds as the interviewer ducks her head a bit, a little reticent all of a sudden though Eddie can’t tell how much of it’s an act, if it even matters: because Steve’s a master at reading people, at getting the body language and subtler cues just right—the number of times already that he’s picked up something’s off, from a frustrating work call to a headache from a coming storm, before Eddie even processes it for himself is unreal—but Steve always notices, so he leans in kind of conspiratorially as he grins, and invites her to share the energy:

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” and he winks, and she chuckles, and Eddie…

Eddie cannot help but imagine what it could be like to stand next to him. To brush his arm against Steve’s arm as he works the line of cameras. To smile at this woman and all these bloodsuckers and just…watch as they fawn over the man he loves, who loves him and who will go home with Eddie, and trust Eddie with all the intricacies of him that the world isn’t privy to, and Eddie could watch them fall over themselves and just…just know.

He wants that. He wants that…so much.

“Such a compliment,” the interviewer confirms enthusiastically, then tilts her head, her demeanor shifting ever-so-slightly:

“Anything different to credit as the cause? New skin routine?” she asks too innocent, and Eddie’s struck that this must be how the game is played, asking questions without asking the question.

He doesn’t think he could manage that. He’s in awe of Steve all over again if this is what’s demanded of him as a rule, on the regular.

Then he’s in awe of Steve—all over again, again—when Steve’s features soften and then, for the most blink-and-you’ll-miss-it second, Eddie sees the version of Steve that sits next to him on the couch, that strokes Eddie’s hair, that touches him gentle and reverent somehow, that shares his bed.

It’s gone in a second but, the idea that there’s feeling there that, knowing what to look for and how to recognize the known quantity, can leak into the careful public display that Steve allows the world to have of him?

It’s…it’s a heady, powerful thing. It’s fucking intoxicating to witness.

And then the man he loves speaks:

“I don’t think there’s a product money can buy that makes you glow from the inside,” and he sounds so tender, so genuine and fucking, like, just, luminescent with feeling and Eddie…Eddie cannot handle it.

Eddie needs him so much. Needs to reach for him. Needs to hold him. Needs to hold him to his chest and try to fit him inside, needs to make himself small in Steve’s arms to try and fit inside his chest and make a home there forever, he needs—

“Oh,” the interviewer is fucking, like, cooing; “oh, Steven,” and Eddie’s mouth twists instinctually because…okay. Okay, Eddie gets why Steve uses another version of his name for the masses and Eddie thinks he’s only going to use it for really really serious things, if only just to try and salvage the way he suspects this woman isn’t the first, or the worst, to simper around it like it has something to give, rather than exists as something to like…adulate.

Actively.

“You have to know that now I’m obligated to—” she says the words like she knows she’s required to, and maybe, maybe feels some degree of apology for prodding but…not nearly enough degrees.

Not even close.

But Steve just laughs, cuts into her words:

“Of course I knew,” he waves her prevaricating off with such a deft fucking hand, so hot; “I was counting on it.”

And he sounds sly, not quite like he’d played her but not exactly not, like he was pulling the strings all along and she moved exactly where he’d planned for her to.

More…just more sexy. And Eddie’s just really grateful he’s wearing sweats right now and there’s no one to judge him, basically.

“It’s not something I want to hide,” Steve’s saying all soft again, but burning like candlelight and Eddie melts for it accordingly because Jesus fucking Christ: “but you’re only getting the broad strokes, yeah?”

“Broad strokes, excellent,” the interviewer says, nodding like a bobblehead; “that is perfect,” and she’s clearly excited, and Eddie obviously knew Steve was private where he could be but to get this kind of reaction at the admittedly bare-bones he’s laying out as being willing to share?

It has to…mean something big. Has to be a little unprecedented. Maybe Eddie’s heart’s bouncing in his chest, pin-balling against his ribs more than a little for all the implications in it.

Heady, like he said: and then some.

“I met someone,” and Eddie, like: okay.

Okay, he probably could have guessed that’s where it was going via context clues, like, Steve was talking about something personal. Entertainment “journalism” was always rooted in who was fucking who, and…well.

Steve’s fucking Eddie, so, yeah. Context clues.

But tell that to the way Eddie’s heart damn well stops still, freezing all it’s chaotic momentum in his chest in a fucking second once he realizes what’s happening. What is…

Happening, on cable fucking television. On Al Gore’s internet. Fucking…live.

In front of millions. For posterity.

(If Eddie still trusted himself to follow such things—which for the record, after the no-Steve-in-your-contacts disaster, he absolutely does not, okay?—but if he did, he can only begin to imagine the extent of the gifsets, because Eddie found fuckton of a lot of them for the actor-who-he-definitely-didn’t-think-was-his-Steve, and he always did have a pretty good eye for the kinds of events that a fanbase would eat up and make like five-hundred-thousand versions of the same 10 seconds from, and now-definitely-his-Steve is offering a goldmine here, but—)

But see, even if Eddie trusted himself with that sort of thing still, he couldn’t care about it right now, and that would be because his heart’s still decidedly in limbo, twitching maybe with disbelief, with overwhelm, with the gravity of what’s happening because Steve is, Steve is—

About him and—

“I’m with someone.”

And Steve says it with so much feeling, so much…delight and wonder at the fact of it, the mere prospect of it, that it makes sense that the full weight of it hits Eddie as his heart feels like it gasps for air after being held under water, holding so much more inside it in his moment than Eddie thinks, no: so much more than Eddie knows he’s ever felt before and that’s why the way his heart jumps back to beating again is a whole ass the earth-shattering production, because the force of it could crack his ribs or quake the ground beneath him, definitely rocks him where he sits and shakes through his bones because it’s such a, like, volumetric force that cascades through him, that feels like expanding with the breadth of all things and then slamming closed to expel them into the universe to be caught and held by the only person, the only heart and soul that you want, that you need to have your everything—

“I found this incredible human who is,” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie’s hyper-saturated heart probably shouldn’t be able to beat faster when it’s beating with this kind of unprecedented force but it does, somehow, it can because Eddie is that far in love and maybe that transcends all the probablys in the whole fucking world.

“Like, this is amazing,” Steve pivots, gestures at the spectacle around them; “and it’s a privilege, and you know how much I appreciate it, how grateful I am and how much I would never dare to even think about taking any of it as a given.”

“You’ve always been,” the interviewer considers for a second before deciding on her words, and delivering them wholly-honest, and Eddie tries his damnedest to process what she says over the deafening rush of his blood in his ears: “probably the most gracious of your colleagues that I’ve had the pleasure to speak with,” and she shoots him a little grin as she adds:

“Humble, really, which has never failed to be impressive.”

And Eddie feels this…tingling warmth come over him, bubbly and magical like champagne looks in a sunset: he’s so proud, and he’s so…fucking lucky that this man wants him, that this man loves him, that this man lets Eddie love him back, and is willing to…tell the whole goddamn world.

“That is so sad,” Steve grimaces at being called out for being decent as something other than a bare minimum, which Eddie gets but he also knows for a fact that Steve is so much more than decent, and he deserves to be celebrated for it whether or not his own coworkers fucking suck.

Eddie’s gonna make a point to celebrate him. For all that he is and all that he does, for how he is exceptional in all the ways.

Always.

“But, like, you’ve seen that,” Steve gets back to his point, and perks up, goes back to the blinding brightness that pulls Eddie’s heart wide to do the thing where it’s trying to defy physics, to pump the whole unfathomable depth of this feeling; “so you know what it means when I tell you I met someone who blows all of this out of the water. Who puts everything this town, this industry,” he glances around himself again, takes everything in in this encompassing way then shakes his head and grins so true:

“Everything this job has to offer, even at its very best? This person puts all of it to absolute shame.”

And the interviewer is just staring at him, holding her microphone, looking a little dumbfounded, definitely surprised—Eddie knows Steve doesn’t date much, hasn’t been attached to someone romantically for years since a very high profile breakup with the lead from the those 80s-throwback monster movies that Eddie refuses to name, out of solidarity with the man he’s gonna spend the rest of his life with. But the red carpet lady’s thrown for a loop, maybe largely by the subject itself, but maybe likewise by the feeling Steve’s infusing every word with. Unabashed and brilliant.

“They’re so much…more, than all of this, any of this, that I don’t know the word to describe it,” Steve laughs lightly to himself for a second then tacks on:

“If a word for this even exists.”

The interviewer seems to shake herself out of her baffled kind of stupor to nod a little, smile a little—not reluctant, but more kinda…confused.

“Sounds special,” she says, and it’s like she does mean it, but then she adds; “almost like a fairytale.”

And Eddie doesn’t think it’s just his own insecurities—difficult to hold on to in the waves of what his pulse is doing, how his entire body is reacting to Steve’s every word, to the undeniable revelation of just what lives in Steve’s heart in detail, public now and proud of it, kind of fucking unequivocal—but Eddie doesn’t think it’d just be him who picks up the unspoken implication there:

Almost too good to be true..

“I mean every word,” Steve doesn’t even pause to consider that implication, fucking unfathomable saint of a man that he is; “and I am so grateful, I don’t take a breath spent with them for granted,” and fuck if Eddie’s eyes don’t sting because yeah, he kinda already knew that, and sure he feels exactly the same but…

Fuck if hearing it out loud isn’t something else.

“But I found someone who enjoys my company, like, seriously and genuinely enjoys my company, and doesn’t mind at all that I am kind of obsessed with them and want to be with them always,” and if Eddie mouths at the screen same, Stevie-baby, exactly the same with his heart in his throat, no one could even blame him, and he wouldn’t give a shit if they tried; “someone who supports the fuck out of me, who laughs with me, who lets me be stupid and filled with, like,” and Steve grins so big then and chuckles a little buoyant and it’s clear the interviewer is taken aback, had never seen Steve the way Eddie always sees Steve—

“Just, silly joy at the most random stuff,” and Steve’s gaze goes a little distant, a little starry, and Eddie wonders what he’s thinking about, which stupid thing they’ve giggled over’s filled his head just now and Eddie’s chest hurts for how much he wants to reach out and trace those features, wants to kiss the little space between those brows and feel those impossible lashes brush his skin because he leans so close, because he can be that close.

“Someone who takes me out, cooks me dinner, writes me songs, treats me randomly for no reason like I just deserve it as a matter of course,” because of course that should be the standard with Steve and fuck everyone who came before and failed to understand that; there won’t be anyone to come after, though, not if Eddie has anything to say about it: and he’s never going to forget what it means to treat Steve Harrington exactly how he deserves.

“And they let me do the same,“ and Steve sounds so grateful for the give-and-take of them, the way they meet and match, and Eddie just…he wants Stevie next to him right now, and he really and truly knows that after he kisses Steve senseless and they fuck about how much they love each other?

He’s going to promise this man every movie release and awards show and random event he wants for the rest of their lives, if he’ll let Eddie have the honor.

“Doesn’t turn it into like a competition on either side, either, it’s just us both doing what we want to do most in the moment, any given day,” and Eddie is struck all over again at how little time it took, especially given Eddie’s laundry list of hangups, for them both to sink into an established status quo of…not a millionaire and his management-grunt sidepiece, or some fucked up accidental sugar baby, but two men who just…love. As a rule. And show it.

Eddie…kinda didn’t process just how much that was, is, until it’s spelled out: never a competition. Eddie never feels bought when Steve sends him his now-routine gifts whenever he’s away. Steve never makes Eddie feels silly when Eddie makes a point to bring him breakfast in bed just because; kinda makes him feel the opposite, makes him feel like a fucking superhero or something, because they’re just—

“Cherishing each other,” Steve continues, and that’s…that’s it, that’s exactly it; “celebrating, y’know, what it means to feel this way.”

And Steve pauses, a soft smile less curling his lips than suffusing his whole body, softening his features and making him so much like a sun, a brighter star than the event can stand and Eddie’d called it: the world can’t handle that shine all the time. Steve can’t smile with his mouth and his heart and the full force of his everything, lest lesser mortals fall in the face of the magnificence of it.

But then he starts speaking again, and Eddie…Eddie, for his part, maybe falls in a wholly different way:

“I found somebody I want to see tomorrow with, but all of them. All the tomorrows, y’know? Somebody who wants to make my coffee in the morning, just so we can watch the sunrise,” and Eddie sees it as it happens on the little balcony he has, where he’s actually started using the chairs that were mostly for show before but now, now he sits with Steve, and they drink coffee and wake up slow and it’s…it’s perfection and Eddie aches at how much he’s in love with it, in love with Steve and what they have, what they’re making and building and keeping together and—

“Knows just how I like it,” and Eddie does, he makes sure Steve’s coffee has just the right amount of milk, is the perfect temperature—it’s muscle memory now: the knowledge of Steve held sacred in Eddie’s head as much as in his heart; “lets me hold their hand, play with their,” and Steve’s fingers twirl a little and Eddie knows: lets him play with Eddie’s hair, because fuck if they don’t both love that so fucking hard and maybe Eddie reaches for a curl and it’s nothing like having Steve play with it but it’s…it’s something.

“Never waited to call, because why wait,” he says wryly, and Eddie chokes on something between a cackle and a sob because Eddie had feared so hard that he’d lost this, but in truth?

He’d had no idea what he was losing, what he’d have gone without, even when he knew deep down he was maybe losing everything.

So yeah: he hadn’t fucking wasted any time that second go-around.

“Why play games when you can, when,” and Steve stops himself, shakes his head ruefully before thinking better of giving more than he wants to the people watching; “and now we, we’re like,” and this time when he trials off he just kinda sits with it, stares off camera kinda unfocused for a second, but looking so content.

Eddie loves him so goddamn much.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, but not in a way that minimizes any of what he’s said, or any of the feeling behind it; “sorry if it disappoints your viewers,” but Steve doesn’t sound one bit sorry, he sounds sly almost and then:

“But I’m not sorry at all that I found them, this,” and Steve smiles to himself, private-like again when he stumbles upon a reason to underscore the the reality that it’s:

“Us.”

Together. Inseparable. A single entity made of equals given wholly to what it means to love, like this.

Fucking magical, is what it is.

By this point, the interviewer looks a little dewy-eyed herself, and her smile really does read as honest. Like she’s…no one could be as happy as Eddie is, in this. And Steve’s feelings seem…comparable, against all odds but undeniable, though Eddie doesn’t think anyone could be quite as overjoyed by where he’s ended up, and with who.

Like: even if Steve were inexpressibly thrilled about it, and he may well be, the look on his face isn’t vague, but then Eddie…well, he’d just have to be so inconceivably giddy it topples empires; parts seas.

“You’ll head home to them?” the woman asks, and oh.

Oh.

Steve’s smile at that…it reaches his eyes.

“Long as I didn’t piss ‘em off too much, with what I’ve said,” and Eddie absolutely does laugh through the heaving sobs of the sort he’s not sure he’s ever experienced before: like the sheer magnitude of feeling in him just has no option but to crest and burst out of him the only way it can, as he giggles at the absolute absurdity of this man, this man, as if Eddie isn’t tempted to sleep in front of the fucking door for however many days between now and Steve coming home—home—so he can leap into those arms and cling and promise him forever, forever, forever in no uncertain terms, making concrete and certain all that they’ve implied in every possible way to now.

“They value their privacy,” Steve sobers a little, serious with it and Eddie loves him, he loves him and he loves so much more and bigger than privacy, than whatever fear lives and breathes in him: it’s nothing compared to the fact of Steve.

“Our privacy.”

“You were impressively discreet, even by your own standards,” the woman reassures him, as if it’s a question, as if Eddie could ever be pissed at Steve for the fucking declarations he’s given, for the care he’s infused in the delivery, just…Steve.

“Even I don’t think I could track this person down,” the lady tacks on and Steve chuckles at that.

“That’s pretty good, then,” he compliments lightly, like maybe he appreciates her actual journalistic skills in a sea of stolen photos and who-wore-it-best.

“Congratulations, Steven,” the woman leans in and seems to think twice before patting his shoulder or something, but definitely looks like she wants to. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve tells her then glances over his shoulder, catches something out of sight and waves before smiling not-quite-apologetically. “Looks like I’m needed elsewhere.”

And then Steve’s off and Eddie…

Eddie starts searching for someone who’s better at technology that he is, and has saved the interview start to finish, so he can watch it again.

💛💛💛

on to THE CONCLUSION // part ten >>>

✨or✨

<<< back to the obligatory insecurity // part eight

for @pearynice 🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @sadisticaltarts @bumblebeecuttlefishes @shrimply-a-menace @wheneverfeasible @1-tehe-1 @themoonagainstmers @dreamercec @ravenfrog @live-laugh-love-dietrich @stealthysteveharrington @tinyplanet95 @theohohmoment @samsoble @tinyloonyteacups @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @pretend-theres-a-name-here @dragoon-ze-great

divider credit here

[thegayneapigs]

our crested cutie was adopted! ✨

cheers to Stevie and her new friend Xander 🧡💛🩷

[anthewitch]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Avilia headcanons . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

༺♥༻❀༺💛༻

ᥫ᭡. Lilia is taller. Can't explain this one but it feels right. Lilia has so much fun with their '2 height difference.

ᥫ᭡. They both love to cook but Lilia does it more often somehow. Let her cook!

ᥫ᭡. Lilia is a passenger princess cause Avis looks insanely hot while driving and Lilia enjoys it too much. Side profile sculpted by Gods themselves.

ᥫ᭡. Avis is bi. Lilia is a femme lesbian. Later Avis comes out as a lesbian. Lilia was her awakening (it was Ellen but shh, we don't talk about it).

ᥫ᭡. Avis is a bathtub girl, Lilia prefers showers. Sometimes Avis asks Lilia to sit with her while she takes a bath and Lilia secretly uses her powers to help Avis relax faster. Avis doesn't have to know about it. Also Lilia never says no if her woman asks her to join.

ᥫ᭡. Lilia helps Avis to wash her hair, always. They both enjoy this act of intimacy.

ᥫ᭡. Avis falls asleep earlier than Lilia. Lilia looooves to play with Avis's hair until she's asleep.

ᥫ᭡. Avis is a "dead asleep" person while Lilia is all over the place. Because Avis wakes up with Lilia's arms and legs on her every single morning. She doesn't mind though.

ᥫ᭡. Avis chooses clothes for them, especially for events. Lilia had to teach her what's more of her style.

ᥫ᭡. Lilia loves to give compliment and Avis melts every time. Especially when Lilia hugs her from behind and murmurs them into her ear.

ᥫ᭡. Avis is a top but very much of a bottom for Lilia. And Lilia loves it. They both switch though.

ᥫ᭡. Lilia's colour is Gold. Avis's - Wine red.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Their song:

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Bringing this from the server as well 😌

[fuctacles]

hi!!! congrats on 500 followers!! you deserve them and so many more! i love your writing sm. i will take some more from crazy cat lady stevie 💛

thank you, thank you! 💚 It's a joy to write for y'all. Here's the next 500 words of CCLS(lmao):

Prev: 😺😺 Next: 😺😺😺😺

"Here." Steph pushes back the notepad after setting down a string of digits. Her handwriting is small and neat. It suits her. "Feed the little shits twice, today evening and tomorrow morning, water the plant once today. They should be fine alone, but stay with them to make sure they eat their food and, I don't know…" she waves her hand in the air. "Scratch them if they get really whiny or something. Call me if anything's wrong."

Eddie nods along at her instructions.

"Don't worry, I got this. I've befriended Jeff's hateful little Siamese in a day. I think cats like me," he assures her. "We'll be fine."

She puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

"Of course you will. I trust you."

This touch and her words are all he can think of while they talk for the ten minutes Steph has left. Mostly her and his uncle, because his brain is running wild while trying to soak in the information they share.

He finds out that Robin lives in Indianapolis with her girlfriend. Wayne isn't surprised by that information, but Steph gives Eddie a cursory glance. He gives his best to show how much he doesn't care she's friends with a lesbian. He wants to scream that he's bisexual but it doesn't seem like time and place for that.

He also learns that Dustin is around five years younger than her and married, and she seems to be both proud and jealous of that.

Eventually, she looks at her watch and makes a distressed noise, before hastily gulping down the rest of her coffee.

"I gotta go," she informs them, standing up. Eddie follows.

"I'll walk you off."

"You don't have to—"

But he ends up grabbing her duffel, putting his slippers on, and opening the door in front of her anyway.

"M'lady." He bows, earning himself an amused huff.

"Goodbye, Wayne!" she says, leaning into the kitchen.

"Have a safe trip!" Wayne offers back, and then they're off, walking down the stairs.

Steph grabs the duffel near the front door, basically prying it away from his grasp.

"Thanks again for stepping in. Wayne is lucky to have a family like you."

To have a family.

"No problem," he assures her. "I wouldn't just help anyone, though. You seem like a good person."

"Thanks." She smiles timidly. Then, she leans in, and brushes his cheek with her lips. "See you soon. Don't kill my cats."

"Uh-huh," he agrees eloquently. The heady smell of her perfume must have dazed him.

On her way out the door, she turns.

"Love your pants, by the way. Though I'm more of a Captain America fan." She disappears after that, giving him one last wave.

He's about to swoon. Gorgeous, queer-friendly, and likes superhero comics? He could fall in love.

But he's not going to swoon for a lady that's at least ten years older than him, and probably still single for a reason. And it goes the other way too.

[conclavevisualnovel]

💛 DEV SPOTLIGHTS ❤️

Finally, meet the ones who programmed the entirety of Delectatio Morosa: our game developers @sneckoil and @cyborb 🖥️! Stevie is also the game director and the head of the project!

[augustjustice]

I was tagged by @sourw0lfs and @nixie-deangel 🖤💛 Thank y'all so much!!

Rules: Send me an emoji in an ask, and I’ll write/edit 3-5 sentences and/or paragraphs from that WIP. No limits to the amount of emojis you can request, please feel free to send multiple.

As with last week, I'm only focusing on one WIP, my Steddie bodyswap fic you wanna feel how it feels!

🔄️- Write 3-5 new sentences/paragraphs for Ch. 5

✂️- Edit 3-5 sentences/paragraphs of Ch. 5

➕- Write 3-5 new sentences/paragraphs in a future chapter

Along with @strangerthingswritersguild, I am no pressure tagging @queenie-ofthe-void @ataliagold @fuctacles @mugloversonly @apomaro-mellow @pearynice @sidekick-hero @queenofshenanigans @onirislanding @arcanemoody @yesdangerpls @wynnyfryd and anyone else who sees this and wants to join in!

And a nice, long snippet below the cut:

That was, at least, until the opening notes of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” wafted into the air from whatever pop radio Steve always had his car radio tuned to, shattering it. 

Eddie wrinkled his nose before shooting Steve a shit-eating grin. “...Even if your music does totally suck.”

“Munson, I swear to God…” Steve groaned. 

But then, not even a beat later, his face broke into a wide smile, showing off Eddie’s teeth and his dimples. A mischievous glint appeared in his eye. 

Eddie didn’t care for that look, not one bit. 

“Uhhh, dude? What’re you do–?” 

Hand darting out to grab the knob, Steve turned the song up to full blast. Then, he opened his mouth, and, to Eddie’s horror, crooned out an Ooh. 

“No, no, no! Goddamnit, Harrington, don’t you dare!” he cried out. 

…To no avail, as Steve was already belting out the first lines of the song at the top of his lungs. 

Eddie practically vaulted over the gear shift to try and stop him. But Steve just shoved open the car door and raced out into the Munson’s front yard, too fast for him. 

In his haste to follow, Eddie all but fell out of the driver’s side door, scrambling around the Beemer to go after him. 

“Diggin’ the dancing queen!” Steve sang, giving a dorky little shimmy to go along with it. Right out in the open, where there could be witnesses. “Oh, wow. You really do sound, like, super good, dude.” 

Eddie harrumphed, momentarily offended. “Yeah, well, you don’t gotta seem so surprised, man. I’m a professional, after all. Although I’d sound a helluva lot better if you’d sing something decent like–like Dio, or Ozzy, or, fuck, Judas Priest! Have mercy, Stevie, anything but ABBA.” 

As he should have predicted, his comment only made Steve raise his voice even more, loud and proud as the next line rang out into the night sky. 

[antigonesghosts]

Stevie Martin I have grown incredibly fond of your insane crazy insane ways 💛💛💛💛

[alicetallula]

Stobin At Work 2025 - Day 5 : YouTubers - 02.05.2025

Here's my contribution to the Stobin At Work event by @genderthings 💛💙😊

Day 1 : Custodians | Education / Day 2 : Wrestlers | Gastronomy / Day 3 : Radio Hosts | Tourism / Day 4 : Owners | Entertainment / Day 5 : Fantasy Job

YouTubers - Transwoman Stevie & Nonbinary Robin - Buzzfeed Unsolved AU - 02.05.2025

Of course I had to do that moment between Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara ! It's so Stobin coded to me :3 

Done using ink pens, gel pens, alcohol markers, colored pencils, acrylic paint pens and Photoshop for the dialogue, background and foreground elements

AO3 post / Bluesky post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post 

[alwaysurvalentine]

scary movie marathon - st fic

Written for Day 27 of @steddie-spooktober prompt: scary movies - wc: 1.6k - cw: some cussing

enjoy! 💛

Steve’s idea of a great date night? Scary movie marathon. If you pick the right movies, your date will hide their face in your shoulder and you have an excuse to hold onto them for the duration. If you’re lucky, you might even get them in your lap where you can provide some distraction.

At least, this is how things typically worked when Steve went on dates with the girls of Hawkins High. He should’ve expected that, like most things with Eddie, that wouldn’t be the case with the other boy. When he’d first suggested the movie night, Eddie had assumed it was a group thing and started talking to Robin about what movies she was going to bring. Luckily, Robin can read Steve’s mind, and also his rapid signaling behind Eddie, so she made up an excuse on why she was busy that night. Eddie had shrugged and turned to Steve with a smirk that sent butterflies straight to Steve’s stomach. 

~

The night had come faster than Steve expected and he eyed the movies in his front seat warily when he pulled up to Eddie’s trailer. He knew the other boy would probably like anything they watched, a huge fan of any and all horror no matter how bad. But Eddie also had a habit about seeing Steve more than other people. What if he realized something about him that Steve didn’t mean to reveal? What if he thought the movies he chose were dumb? Or too mainstream to be considered bad enough to loop back to good? This was a terrible idea. Steve’s hand rested on his gear shift, ready to put it in reverse and call Eddie with a fake illness cover story when the boy in question stepped out of the trailer and waved. 

Steve had just gotten used to the black jeans and leather jacket Eddie normally wore, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the cropped Black Sabbath shirt displaying the underneath of Eddie’s chest all the way to his navel. The sunset painted the scars adorning his stomach into a soft pink, like a gentle swoop of a paint brush. Steve’s own matching scars never looked so soft, instead red and angry any time he caught a glance of them in the mirror. Eddie’s grin sharpened as he approached Steve’s car, brown eyes alight with something when he cracked open Steve’s door.

“Cat got your tongue there, Stevie?” 

If blinks were audible, Steve knows his would’ve been deafening. “Whatever Eddie, hope you’re ready to be scared.” He didn’t dare to look at Eddie when he grabbed the movies, scared the older boy would know what he was thinking. 

“Ha! Me, scared? I’m a connoisseur of horror, a weaver of terrible tales, it takes a lot to scare the likes of me!” A cartoonish evil laugh erupted from Eddie as he walked forward, sliding his slippers off at the front door. The trailer felt just as welcoming as it had done all the times before, but now there were orange string lights covering the wall behind the TV and it smelled distinctly of popcorn.

In seemed in the time it had taken Steve to go home and change, Eddie had set up a full array of snacks for them. Popcorn in one bowl, M&Ms in another, even a bag of red vines sat to the side. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you’d want to drink. We have coke and beer.” Eddie cringes at his words, though Steve can’t imagine why, and he’s already heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll just have what you’re having.” The fridge door opens and Steve sets his movies on the table, eyes catching on the starting menu for The Fly. Eddie comes back with two opened beers, passing Steve’s over by the neck before taking a quick swig of his own. 

“Okay, so we’re starting with one of the best horror movies ever.” 

~

“What the fuck?! Eddie, what the fuck?” Steve can’t look at the screen anymore, the transformation from man to fly sending his stomach into a riot. He’s tucked his face behind his hands and leaned towards Eddie like that’ll save him from the screen. Which is when he notices Eddie’s got an arm around his shoulders and he can feel him laughing against him. How did he not realize Eddie using his own moves against him?

“I know. It’s fucked up isn’t it? And the special effects are so good!” Eddie almost sounds excited, which would be nice if Steve couldn’t hear the sound of Jeff Goldblum’s character losing the last of his humanity. He gags and covers his ears instead, leaning fully into Eddie and turning his head towards the cologne he can smell on Eddie’s neck instead of the screen. 

“It’s disgusting is what it is.” Steve’s breath ghosts over Eddie’s collarbone and he swears he can see the moment Eddie’s heart starts beating faster. Interesting. He’s hopeful so Steve leans closer and feels Eddie’s arm tighten incrementally around him. 

“Steve?” He nods against the metalhead’s neck, newly focused on figuring out just what the older boy smells like under the cigarette smoke that follows him around. “Can I say something crazy?” Eddie’s tense as he talks, arm slipping from Steve’s shoulders so he can reach for the remote. “I mean, maybe it’s not crazy compared to you know, the entire Upside Down and like the last four years of your life. But it’s a big deal to me. Robin said you were fine with her, and clearly you are because she’s like your whole soulmate. Platonic, I know.” 

All of the air is stuck in Steve’s lungs, making his chest tight and he’s just waiting for the pit in his stomach to swallow him whole. He’s opened his mouth to speak a couple of times but nothing is coming out – Eddie’s drowning in a sea of insecurities and he’s doing nothing to help. 

“Okay. I’m just going to spit it out. I’m gay and I have the biggest crush on you.” 

I have the biggest crush on you.

Steve can breathe again. His cheeks are hot and he knows if he looked in a mirror they’d be bright pink. 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s quiet enough in the trailer that Steve can hear when Eddie chokes on his inhale. 

“..what?” Eddie’s shoulders aren’t tense anymore, and he tilts his head at Steve with furrowed brows. He almost looks like a puppy. 

“Sorry, yeah, totally cool with the gay thing. Even more on board with the crush thing, so can I kiss you?” 

Eddie’s still just looking at Steve with wide, brown eyes. 

Alright, that’s fine, Steve can close the distance. Steve leans forward slowly and brushes the curls away from Eddie’s face, watches his eyes go wide with wonder before leaning in. Their noses bump when their lips first meet but then Eddie tilts his head and Steve’s world with it. Eddie’s hands come up to cup Steve’s jaw, cold rings sending sparks along his face and Steve smiles into the kiss. They part for a moment, matching grins on their faces. After a beat, Eddie leans in again and Steve shifts closer on the couch. 

As soon as he starts shifting, Eddie’s hands start tugging him closer until Steve’s straddling the older boy’s black jean clad lap. Steve boxes him in easily, resting slightly on Eddie’s lap to change the angle again. Eddie nips at his lip, gaining full access to his mouth when Steve gasps at the sensation. The sounds of the movie have completely faded now, Steve more focused on the soft smacking of their lips when they disconnect and meet again. 

The need for air causes them to part, but Eddie doesn’t go far, tucking his face into Steve’s neck. If it wasn’t for how warm Steve was already feeling, he might’ve been able to feel the warmth from the blush on Eddie’s face. Instead he feels Eddie’s lips against his skin as the metalhead murmurs. “Holy shit. Holy shit. Am I dreaming right now?”

“Not a dream, baby. If it wasn’t obvious, I have a huge crush on you too.”

Eddie leans more into Steve’s neck, placing a kiss at his pulse point. A couple more kisses are placed on Steve’s neck and he feels himself melt into Eddie’s lap. He feels Eddie’s hands clench slightly at the movement and then they slip under his shirt, fingertips pressing gently at Steve’s lower back and hips. A gasp escapes him when Eddie nibbles at his neck, teeth pulling at the skin in a way that Steve knows will leave a mark. 

For a moment he imagines the older boy leaving different marks on him and lending him his signature leather jacket for everyone knows who Steve belongs to. But Steve’s getting ahead of himself, this is only their first kiss. There’s no guarantee that Eddie wants this to be a serious thing. 

“Sweetheart?” When Steve glances down, Eddie’s pupils are still blown slightly even though his eyebrows are scrunched in confusion. “Did you hear me?” He must see his answer in Steve’s eyes because the confusion leaves and Steve’s looking at the softest expression he thinks he’s ever seen. 

“I asked if you wanted to be my boyfriend?” There’s an edge to Eddie’s voice and his hands tighten for a moment before loosening again. As though he’s worried about Steve’s answer, like Steve’s not already on the precipice of falling in love with he boy in front of him.

“Only if you let me take you on an official date.” All of the tension leaves Eddie and he grins, leaning up towards Steve again.

“I think I can agree with that.” 

And what else is Steve supposed to do but lean in for another kiss?

[superblysubpar]

My dear. I had a dream where I was at a bar with friends and a very nondescript male friend was getting majorly territorial but trying to be nonchalant about it when someone was chatting me up super casually and my friends were all like 👀 uhhh!!! Helloooo!!! and...I'll spare you the details but it was giving MAJOR midnight city Steve so I immediately have inserted *that* picture into my brainwaves and now I'm ready to have a good day.

Thank you for your service and for listening.

💋

This is just a little blurb about midnight city!steve (modern!steve), you don't have to read Midnight City first for it to make sense, but can do so here. It was one of my first fics 💛

Steve fiddles with the cherry stem in his drink, jaw tense as he watches the bar.

"Jesus, who burnt your toast?"

Steve's brows furrow at the honey haired best friend sitting next to him who slurps something pink and sugary out of two lime green straws.

Robin’s blue eyes blink at him. She picks up one of the straws, she twirls it in his face, tone matter of fact. "It's a saying. People say that."

"No," Steve argues, his attention back on the bar, "They don't."

"Damn dude, who shit in your socks?" Eddie pokes at Steve's frown as he slides into the booth next to Robin.

Steve swats at the ring clad finger like a gnat as Robin snorts a laugh around her straws.

"I can't stand either of you."

Your head tilts back in a laugh. His jaw tenses.

Robin and Eddie let out a unison and drawn out, "Ohhhh."

"Aww Stevie's a little jealous. Cute." Eddie chuckles.

"So tall hunky model man shit in your socks and burnt your toast, huh?" Robin offers unhelpfully.

Tall hunky model man leans in and says something and you snort, hiding your face behind your hands as your body shakes with laughter.

The cherry stem snaps in half between Steve's fingers.

What the hell is so fucking funny?

"Steve, seriously," Robin begins, actually serious for once, "She's head over heels for you. You're being such a-"

Steve pushes out of the booth, and Robin speaks to the empty side, as Eddie gags on the brown liquid in his cup.

"Guy." She sighs.

"Fuck, this is disgusting. I hate whiskey. When will I learn." Eddie steals Robin's drink.

Meanwhile, you listen as Brody, a friend from college you've just ran into, tells you all about his daughters and the shenanigans they get into.

"But anyways, enough about my kids, Sarah says I need to re-learn normal conversation topics. What's new with you?"

You smile, patting his arm in assurance, "Please, I loved hearing about them. Nothing much I-"

Fingers scratch across your lower back and you turn, Steve stands next to you with a tense jaw.

"Hi," you smile, "There you are, this is-"

"Steve," his tone sharp, "The boyfriend."

He sticks his hand out politely, his manners not totally gone. Except the shake is a firm grip, dominating, before the hand finds its home on your lower back once more.

"Sorry, I've totally been monopolizing you, I gotta get back to my group too. It was so great seeing..." Brody goes in for the hug but falters when he sees the look on Steve's face, the way his fingers curl around your hip and pull you into his side. Brody does a sort of awkward wave instead and walks away.

"What the hell was that?" You laugh as Steve spins you to face him.

Your hands land on his chest as he swallows. Your eyes trace over the pout on his lips and the tense jaw dotted with stubble. The furrows forming between his brows.

Steve shrugs. "What are you talking about?"

"Steve," you mimic a man's voice, dropping yours to an amusing level, gruff, "The boyfriend."

Steve's lips twitch, but he shakes his head.

"I didn't-"

Your thumb swipes over his pout, fingers curling around his jaw so he'll look at you. Your warm smile melting him a little bit.

"Steve Harrington, were you a little jealous?"

His hands that had been fiddling with your belt loops slide around the curve of your waist, they drop to your ass, slipping into your back pockets and squeeze.

Your lip pulls between your teeth at the territorial grab. Your heart flutters in your chest as he hides his face in your neck, embarrassed and speaking softly against your skin. "I don't like how much he made you laugh."

His lips press a soft kiss to your throat, they linger, brushing over your skin as he speaks. "That's my laugh. My smile. My girl."

Your throat is dry at his words, thighs pressing together at the claim despite his ridiculous and unnecessary worry that you'd ever look at another man the same way as you do him.

Steve's breath is warm on the sensitive skin below your ear, driving a shiver up your spine when he presses a soft kiss there, waiting.

"Yours," you acknowledge as his tongue swipes over the spot, making your fingers curl in his shirt.

You've forgotten where you are, that you're not alone. And both of you freeze as a loud, unison call echoes across the fairly quiet bar.

"Get a room!"