#the most attractive thing about steve harrington is not his looks

[idfuckhimcarnalleigh]

its 9pm and steve harrington is consuming my brain he's just SO ATTRACTIVE

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.

the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.

it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."

then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."

then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."

that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.

"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."

but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.

'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.

if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.

if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.

"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.

for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-

the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."

eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.

"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.

three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.

he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.

"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"

there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.

"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"

eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.

"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."

eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.

he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.

"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."

"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."

eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?

but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.

and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.

eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.

"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.

it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.

there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."

"holy shit."

it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.

"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"

choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-

"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."

he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.

"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"

and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.

"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.

"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."

eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."

steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.

"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."

"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."

he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."

eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.

"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.

"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.

"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.

"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"

the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.

and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.

"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."

it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.

"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."

"...are you bribing me, harrington?"

"is it working?"

eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.

"of course it is."

the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.

"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"

it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.

he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.

"lucky indeed."

[hairmetal666]

Steve who goes on a Bake Off type show after Robin, Dustin, and Max set him up as a contestant. He doesn't want to, doesn't think baking or cooking should be stressful, but he's been wallowing since his knee surgery took him out of work and basketball, since his divorce.

His first day on set, he's totally gobsmacked by the sexy host with all the tattoos and long, curly hair. Just, cannot take his eyes off the guy, blushing and stammering whenever he comes around to do interviews, obviously can't stop starring.

After the first day, where he manages to stay comfortably in the middle of the pack, he calls Robin to complain about what a mess he becomes around this gorgeous dude.

Her response is to cackle and say, "Steve! How do you not know who Eddie Munson is? Oh my god, you're a disaster."

Turns out, Eddie Munson is the lead singer of Dustin's favorite band, Corroded Coffin, and also pretty well-known for his dnd YouTube channel. He's been a host on the show for years, only Steve doesn't really pay attention when the others watch it and didn't know.

Eddie, for his part, is losing his mind. He'd known about the beautiful contestant for this season, former college basketball superstar turned coach, having a hell of a shitty year after dislocating his kneecap in a charity game. Eddie--foolishly, it turns out--thought he wouldn't be as attractive in person. He also expected Steve to be terrible and egotistical, a jock through and through.

So, when Steve Harrington walks into the tent in a short-sleeved polo and obviously ironed jeans and is still drop-dead gorgeous, he's fucking flabbergasted. And then Steve has the audacity to be nice? Kind and thoughtful and running to help other bakers when he still has work to do himself? He also blushes so pretty, high across his nose and cheeks, and god does hewant to be the reason Steve blushes like that.

Eddie is beside himself.

Leading up to the second week, Steve schools himself into being calm around Eddie. He can't afford to lose his cool like that every time the host is around. Except, this week Eddie flirts with him shamelessly. Winks at him, leans into space, calls him "m'lord" with this deeply resonant voice that makes Steve want to drop to his knees. Steve doesn't mean to, not really, but he flirts right back, feeding Eddie tidbits of his bakes and looking for any excuse to touch him.

Steve does well for the first half of episodes. He never wins the technical or star baker, but he's regularly within the top contestants. On episode five, though, something is off. He's distracted, forgetful, doesn't leave enough time for his custard to set in the signature. Eddie asks if he's okay, but Steve shrugs and smiles, says "off my game today."

But then, in the technical, he curdles his buttercream more than once, and his genoise sponge burns. Eddie watches as Steve folds his arms above his head and disappears from view. He doesn't hesitate, he sprints from his interview, falling to his knees in front of the contestant.

"Stevie, sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I get migraines," Steve whispers. Trails of wet streak down his cheeks. "I've felt one coming all morning, been trying to stave it off but--"

"Okay, okay," Eddie shakes out his hands. "You can sit out this challenge, yeah? Or take this weekend off. It happens. You'll come back next week--"

"I don't want to stop." More tears fall from his eyes.

"What do you need?"

Steve shakes his head, wry little smile pulling at his lips. "Time to breathe."

Eddie glances up, eyes catching on the camera crew hovering in front of them. He throws both middle fingers up and says, in the most reasonable and even tone, "fuck!" Everyone in the tent looks at him, but he doesn't stop. "Shit!" "Bitch!" Motherfucker!" He goes on and on, saying the filthiest series of things he can think of. The camera crew steps away, another contestant brings Steve a glass of water, and Eddie sits with him.

The other host announces that there are thirty minutes remaining in the challenge.

"Well. That's that, then," Steve says. He stands, patting the naked skin of Eddie's knee where it shows through the rip in his jeans as he goes.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Out of time, no cake, no buttercream."

Eddie hops to his feet. "You're going to let that stop you?"

"Well." Steve laughs. "Can't serve this." He gestures to his discarded bowls of frosting, his burnt cake.

"You have time to make another buttercream."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Sure, but not the cake."

"Cut the burnt off. Cover it in the buttercream. Easy peasy."

"Okay..." Steve stares at his station. "Okay, that could work. It won't be pretty, but--"

Eddie, knowing he's no longer needed, steps away, and Steve gets to work.

Steve tells Robin all about it and, as soon as he gets home from the taping and she's immediately like, "Eddie Munson, huh?"

He shoots her a look. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, him leaping over a table to check on you is surely nothing."

"Robin," he warns.

"What?"

"Eddie would never want a guy like me."

She laughs but quickly grows sober. "Steve. Of course he would. He likes you."

"It's nothing, really." He walks towards the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner?"

Eddie experiences the same harassment from his band members and their manager.

"You're gonna ask Harrington out, right?" Gareth asks.

"That would be a little bit of a professional conflict of interest," he deadpans. He doesn't look up from his guitar.

A puffed Cheeto smacks him square in the forehead. "Hey!" He shrieks.

"He means once the season is done, Edward," Chrissy says.

He wipes the cheese dust from his forehead. "Not a good enough reason to call me Edward. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he's straight."

Jeff guffaws. "C'mon, dude. No way. He's so into you he might as well have a neon sign."

"He divorced a woman."

"That doesn't mean anything, and you know it," Chrissy says.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I may be considering asking him out. Maybe."

Everyone cheers. More Cheetos hit him in the face.

---

To Steve's great surprise, he makes it to the finals. Not just makes it, he gets a star baker, gets first in the semi-final technical. He's baking in the final and might have a fucking chance.

It's with great surprise, once it's all said and done, that he hears his name announced as the winner. He doesn't have much time to process it, because Eddie is striding towards him. He's not carrying the cake stand trophy or flowers, it's just Eddie.

Eddie who stops in front of him, eyes shining. Eddie who leans in and whispers, "I knew you could do it, baby, I'm so proud of you." Eddie who twines his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss.

The internet explodes as the season airs. Everyone is obsessed with Steve and Eddie. They have fics on ao3, a dedicated tumblr community, edits, playlists, gif sets, a ship name all dedicated to them. The fandom grows after episode 5 airs. Not all the footage makes it, thanks to Eddie, but they still witness him tenderly taking care of Steve and directing the cameras away. Fans start scouring their social medias, looking for any hint of their relationship status; even beg them in comments and DMs to reveal if it was just a showmance.

Eddie and Steve, however, are happy in the quiet little world the carved out for themselves after filming. They aren't ready to reveal anything, even hints, whether or not the show would let them.

Then, the final airs and the kiss is revealed to the world. The ending title cards show a picture of Steve with the rest of the season's bakers and the caption, "Steve threw a party for the other bakers..."

The picture then changes to one of he and Eddie, arms wrapped around each other. This caption says: "...at the home he shares with his boyfriend Eddie."

That night, in bed, Steve says, "I'm really glad Robin and the kids made me go on the show. But do you think it's bad that the thing I'm happiest about, way more than winning, is that I met you?"

Eddie places a slow circle of kisses in the dip of Steve's lower back. "Sweetheart, I'd be disappointed if you said anything else. Now, hush, I have a baking champion to congratulate."

[french-goodbye]

please never fall in love again

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: dating steve harrington is hard, especially when girls keep hitting on him.

notes: i wrote this a while ago but eventually forgot about it in the midst of all my wips lol. title from the song please never fall in love again by ollie mn.

you stare at the back of your boyfriend's head with narrowed eyes and your chin resting on your hands, an anger you know you shouldn't be feeling boiling beneath the surface of your skin. he, of course is none the wiser, as he is to most things, just chatting with eddie completely carefree by the bar.

you love steve harrigton, you really do. you think you fell in love with him on your first date and never really fell out of it. you've already planned your whole life with him, from getting married and having kids to growing old with him and sitting side by side on a wrap around porch. he's sweet, kind, he's great with kids and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes and great in bed.

his biggest flaw, however, is not exactly his fault. the worst thing about dating steve harrigton is the amount of women who hit on him on a daily basis. whether it's old ladies at the grocery store telling him he looks like their dead husbands or bored soccer moms looking for a little thrill or, the worst of all, the girls your age who slip him their phone number in old receipts over the counter at family video. these women are always there, like blood sniffing sharks, somehow finding a way to make a suggestive comment or a flirty joke.

most of the time, it doesn't really bother you even when it does happen in front of you. steve's the kind of guy who'd never cheat on you, simply because of who he is and how obsessed with you he is. sometimes, however, they can get a little too close and personal and you can't help but wish steve was a little less attractive. just a little.

and it's not that you don't trust him either, he's always quick and firm to shut them down when it happens. it's that they're the ones you don't trust, the girls with big permed blonde hair and fake tans and bright pink lipstick who look at you disdainfully when they realize you're together because they can barely take their eyes off of him for long enough to notice you're standing right next to him.

you're out at a bar celebrating jonathan's birthday when it happens this time, steve and eddie having offered to get everyone another round, the two of them leaning against the bar talking while they wait when a girl from the booth in the corner approaches them. she's clearly a little bit more than tipsy and obviously focused on steve as she talks to them, avidly taking him in and resting her hand on his forearm. he doesn't even blink, just smoothly leans away from her and tells her something that makes her leave as fast as she arrived.

you can barely hear nancy as she complains about her male coworkers on her summer job, as you heatedly stare at his stupidly nice hair and broad shoulders as your boyfriend laughs at something eddie said, hand scratching his neck. you're still watching him with scrunched eyebrows and a sour expression when you feel robin poking your cheek, making you look at her and gently slap her hand away.

"why are you poking me?"

"why are you staring at steve like he kicked your puppy?" she asks, frowning, looking back and forth between the two of you like a tennis match.

"i'm not" she gives you a flat look with raised brows. "fine," you huff. "why do women always hit on him? we can't take him anywhere"

"no idea, you tell me"

"urgh" you groan, throwing your arms around her and resting your head on her shoulder. "god, i hate men"

"amen sister" you hang onto her for a second as she takes a noisy sip of her empty drink through her straw and taps your back sympathetically a few times before gently pushing you away as steve and eddie walk back to your table, drinks in hands and still chatting distractedly.

she softly claps her hands, enthusiastically and telling you a quiet "yay" as she turns back to nancy and jonathan, as the two argue wether or not their coworkers are sexist (they totally are).

you're still laughing at robin's drunken antics when steve comes to your side again and sets your new drink on the table in front of you, resting his hand on your lower back. you let him but when he leans over you to press a kiss to your hair, you promptly dodge away from him and out of his reach. from the corner of your eye, you can see how he frowns at that and silently watches you for a second as you pretend to listen to what nancy says.

his hand on your lower back climbs all the way up to the back of your neck so he turn your head his away, forcing you to look at his big brown eyes staring at you like you just kicked his puppy and you almost feel guilty. almost.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

you shrug, "nothing's wrong."

"are you mad at me or something?"

"no" you slowly shake your head in negative, shrugging.

"gimme a kiss then" he rests one of his hands on your face tilting your head his way while the other on your neck guides your face to his. you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek and look away, accidentally making eye contact with the girl who just hit on him. she's watching the two of you, quickly looking away when she notices she was caught staring.

"you saw that, huh" he tells you, hands settling on your waist instead so he can look at you.

"hard not to" you huff, picking invisible lint from your pants.

"then you know nothing happened"

"of course i know that, i trust you" you complain as you roll your eyes and gesticulate to show your frustration "but i-it just makes so insanely angry when they touch you like that, like they have any right to-" you stop your ranting mid sentence when you realize the look on his face. "what? why are you looking at me like that?"

"nothing" he clears his throat and looks down to uselessly smooth non existing wrinkles on your top. you watch him though narrowed eyes and gasp when it hits you, making him look at you again. "what?"

"you like it when i'm jealous" you accuse, lightly poking his chest.

"no, i don't"

"yes, you do. i can't believe i never noticed it before" you huff an incredulous laugh, remembering all the times girls hit on him in front of you and he said nothing but affirmations of how much he's in love with you and how he could never want somebody else, acting more attentive and affectionate than usual later, pressing you against his body and kissing kissing kissing you until he was the only thing on your mind.

"okay, it's not what you're thinking" he replies running a hand through his hair nervously.

"what am i thinking, harrington?" you ask, lifting one eyebrow as a smirk makes it's way to your lips.

"it's not an ego thing" you laugh softly at him, letting your fingers run soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck, finally giving into the temptation to get your hands on him. "it's just- i like knowing how much you want me just for yourself, how much you care about me."

you stare at him for a moment, taking in his sincere brown eyes and his fluffy hair, feeling impossibly endeared by the boy in front of you. he fidgets under your stare, so you smooth your hands down his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt.

"well, i do care... a lot" you tell him, pretending to be coy and batting your eyelashes at him. "but it's not like i blame her"

"what?" he looks at you blankly, confused.

"i mean, look at you" you pull him closer and then closer still, still smirking. "those nice brown eyes, the pretty hair, those shoulders... nevermind how much of a charmer you are. damn harrington, no wonder women keep throwing themselves at you."

"babe" he groans embarrassedly, "they're not throwing themselves-" he dramatically drops his forehead on your shoulder making you laugh at his discomfort, letting brown strands of hair slip through your fingers as you comfortingly pet his hair and he squeezes your waist in reprimand.

"it's true!"

he pulls you closer by the grip he has on your waist and burrows his face in the crook of your neck in lieu of an answer. you let him have it even though you would like to see his face and the way his blush is probably spreading from his cheek to his neck and rest your chin into his shoulder as you hug him.

"but one of these days i'll have to step in and defend your honor"

"please don't" he pulls away and cups your neck, thumbs brushing your cheek and staring at you disapprovingly, his eyelashes touching at the corners, the hint of a smile still on his face.

"i don't know, maybe i'll have to challenge them to a duel to the death" you disagree and look at him from under your eyelashes. he gives you an affectionate look that'd make you nauseous were it not directed at you and presses a long lingering kiss to your lips.

"shut up" he whispers against your lips. you gladly do, at least until eddie and robin start throwing balled up paper napkins at your head. it's worth it though.

[bleedingoptimism]

Eddie was ugly when he was a kid. Ugly with a capital U. And not like, his peers said he was, so he thought he was ugly, but he really wasn’t, no. He was UGLY. Big bottomless eyes, a big round nose, big mouth, full lips, small face, and with his head shaved even his ears looked too big. Plus he was thin and long-limbed... He looked like a bug! He was U-G-L-Y

But it’s okay. It’s just a universal truth and not a problem anymore because he grew up. And he grew into the too-big features that made him look bad. Now they are part of his charm. He grew up and he looks good now, and he knows it. His big dark eyes, his round nose, and his plump lips are attractive features now. 

The thing is, it didn’t bother him then, and it doesn’t bother him now. It’s an inconsequential matter, laughable really. So why is he wrestling Steve Harrington in his living room to stop him from looking at the photo he found while cleaning up Wayne’s trailer? Who knows, maybe, and just maybe he doesn’t want to hear Steve call him ugly. Maybe he’s vain like that. Maybe he doesn’t want the most beautiful boy he’s ever met to think he’s ugly. Maybe he doesn’t need confirmation that Steve will never notice him like that because he’s so out of his league they are not even playing the same sport. Not that Eddie knows anything about sports. Whatever.

Steve had come over to help him move out. He is moving in with Jeff to a tiny place that’s closer to college and Eddie had wanted to surprise Wayne by giving him back his room and leaving it spotless and fit for a grown man. And Steve had kindly offered to help when he’d told him about it.

They were just finishing up boxing some books when a photo fell out of an old copy of Moby Dick. Why was it there in the first place?! Eddie’s eyes had gone wide when he saw it was a ridiculous photo of him, standing straight and with a huge smile on his face hanging on to a pass-me-down backpack on his first day of school. He’d dived to the floor to try and grab it but when Steve saw he didn’t want him to see what it was…

Steve wanted to know what it was now, obviously.

He took the photo and ran back to the living room, screaming and laughing with Eddie close behind as he screamed bloody murder and jumped on top of him, clinging to his back. Steve stopped just long enough not to let him fall but then started running again trying to shake him off. Eddie let himself fall off Steve and grabbed him by the waist, pulling him close to him to try to grab the photo that Steve, giggling uncontrollably, was keeping at arm's length.

Eventually, when their lungs couldn’t get enough air, they stopped struggling and sighed in unison, which prompted another laughing fit. And then, Steve looked at the photo, with Eddie still holding onto him from behind, looking over his shoulder.

When he saw the picture again Eddie flinched waiting for Steve’s laugh. And laugh he did but not meanly, instead he said,

“Oh my god, Eddie you were so cute!” 

“Shut up. No, I wasn’t” he answered with a scoff. Then, and just then, he noticed the position they were in. How close he was standing to Steve. He swallowed loudly and looked at Steve, to see if he noticed too, to see if he’d pull away.

But Steve was smiling at the photo, biting his lip and letting little giggles escape from time to time, “You were!” he insists. 

Eddie laughs, “Dude, stop I was not. You don’t have to mean about it” starting to get a little annoyed but Steve shakes his head looking way too sincere.

“You are not serious,” Eddie frowns searching his eyes which are still looking at the picture, “Look at my tiny face and the ears!” He says exasperated.

Steve chuckles again, “I know, they are huge! And the eyes! Oh my god- You looked like a bug Eddie-!” he laughs, and yep. There it is. Eddie thinks bitterly- “You were so pretty!” Steve exclaims actually cooing at him.

And wait- 

“You are ridiculous” Eddie laughs and Steve finally turns to look at him and notices how close they are. He blushes furiously and Eddie is so close to his face that he can feel the heat on his cheeks now. Eddie removes his hands from Steve’s waist so he doesn’t feel trapped by him, but moves his face a fraction closer and smirks flirtingly at him, “Were?” he asks.

Steve blinks at him and Eddie can feel his eyes moving across his face as if it were a caress. He looks at his eyes, his nose, his jaw, his lips, he swallows and his eyelids fall a little before he looks back up at Eddie’s eyes and smiles shyly before he says, “Are. You are pretty.” and Eddie closes the distance between them. 

💋

a drink? ☕🥐💕

[ultralightpoe]

S-L-U-T -Eddie Munson

Authors Note: this draft had been rewritten like 4 times and each time I just felt weird about it. I wrote half of part 2 and gave up so there will probably not be a part 2. I wrote this in August last year.

Word Count: 7908

Warnings: smut. (Awkward smut scenes) cussing.

(Thanks for the gif @madisondixonhopper )

Enjoy!

It starts with a skimpy top and a huge crush on the resident Metalhead of Hawkins.

You had been made….. graciously, as your mother always said. Like Aphrodite born into flesh, pretty and plush. And you had been raised to be proud of yourself in your skin, that was how you were made and there was no changing that so why bother pretending you weren’t fucking gorgeous?

You loved short skirts and dresses, you loved your chest and all the shiny jewelry. Earring to necklaces and rings, you loves decorating your nails and doing new looks with your hair. Makeup, though never needed, was fun fun to you. You had decided very early on that you liked how you looked and you liked dressing up. The town you had grown up in was always open to it all as well, you never once heard a single bad thing about your looks and often got asked for tips and advice from your classmates.

But then you moved to Hawkins.

You truly hadn’t expected your outfits to cause so much backlash.

As it turns out Hawkins Indiana was very against letting people love their skin, so much so that within a week of starting your new school you had already been branded with something you had never been called before. Slut.

They whisper it as you pass, giggling to one another as you do your best to keep the cool and confident composure because you refuse to let anyone make you feel less than.

The boys leer at your chest, and often drop things in hopes that you will bend to pick it up.

Enter Eddie Munson.

You had been at your locker one day, fixing your makeup in your mirror when another figure emerged beside it, some kid from your biology class named Lucas Elks? He had never said anything to you in the four weeks you’d been at this school, and a wave of excitement passed through you as you realize this might be your chance to make a friend.

He starts easy, joking about the crap lockers which makes you laugh. You ask him about the homework from class and he disregards that by saying “I don’t do homework.”

And just like that he redirects your conversation to your locker, taking his finger and knocking on it, which makes the mirror you had hung in it fall quickly, both your eyes falling to where it lands.

“How clumsy of me”. He smiles and you smile back, waiting for him to grab it before you realize he was waiting on you to grab it. Embarrassment clings to you at this, him watching you pull your dress down a bit to get ready to bend and grab it. His eyes fall to your chest as you begin to move to grab it, but before you can make it far a ringed hand dashes out to snatch the mirror, pulling it up quickly making you stand straight and make eye contact with the kid who saved you.

He, a beautiful brown eyed god, holds out the mirror casually before bowing dramatically with a smirk. “Milady.”

You laugh slightly, grabbing the mirror as he stands straight again. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Have a good day.” He smiles, waltzing off after that leaving you with the Elk kid.

“You know Eddie Munson?” Not yet.

“No. Never met him.” You murmur, eyes glued to where he disappeared.

“He’s a freak.”

An extremely respectful and attractive freak.

-

Most boys at Hawkins were crude and nasty, and they made their intentions known quite quickly.

You were struggling at this school and it was beginning to eat at you.

Until Steve Harrington.

He played the game well. He played all caring and kind in the beginning, never once looking at your chest and never dropping things for his own amusement. He lent you his jacket during cold classes and gave you rides home from school. You ate lunch with him and found yourself with a warm tingly feeling at the fact that you had a friend finally.

It truly helped that whenever you hung out with him the slut comments seemed to die down.

You loved your friendship with him, and not to mention that small crush that had been growing on Eddie Munson? It was full blown now.

You spent your days daydreaming about the Metalhead, how he would open doors for you or pick you up for a date. He would be the type to kiss your knuckles and warm your hands.

This was all imagination of course, daydreams formed from slight moments in passing with him. Like this morning when you were both entering the school at the same time and he held the door open for you as you dashed to escape the cold in your tiny dress.

He laughs when you slip, reaching a hand out to catch you easily and allowing you to enter the warmth of the school, keeping his hand on your elbow as you wipe your heels down from the snow.

“Not that I don’t think the outfit is cute, shouldn’t you at least wear a jacket?” He smiles, letting go of your arm when you are stable, bringing his hands up to blow hot air on them. A blush coats your skin as a burning feeling settles in your lower stomach as you watch him, imagining him doing that to you.

“I-I didn’t have one that matched.” You mumble, feeling silly at the thought.

“Oh.” He nods, like it’s the most normal answer ever. “I get that. It’s a really cute outfit. Why ruin it?”

“I know it seems stupid. Why bother looking good if it’s freezing but I’m going to see a movie with my friend tonight. Pretty in pink? Have you seen it? Well I decided I would dress up-“ you were rambling, a lame rant that you’re sure makes you look stupid.

“Dress up as pretty in pink?” He smiles, and you nod lamely. “It doesn’t seem stupid. Sure it’s cold but if you’re a badass then you’re a bad ass. Can’t help it.”

He shrugs easily, hands moving to slip from his jacket to reveal a Jean jacket under the leather. You blink in shock as he holds the leather jacket out to you, a slight pink ringing his own cheeks.

“For me?”

“Yeah. It kinda goes with the outfit. I mean not a lot but kinda. Just in case.” He offers and you smile widely, reaching to grab the jacket and wear it. It smells like cinnamon and hot chocolate, and that burning feeling in your lower stomach is straight flames at this point.

You wondered if he knew how hot he was.

“Enjoy the movie, yeah?” He smiles, heading down the hall like he didn’t just make you want to jump his bones in the hallway.

-

“So what’s the plan Stevie?” You ask your friend once entering his car, still clad in Eddie’s jacket. “Heading straight to the movies?”

“Well…..the movie was canceled due to the weather.” He mumbles, shrugging. “Bummer.”

“Oh, okay. Are you taking me home then?” You blurt, feeling lame. You had been looking forward to hanging out all day.

“Well, since we already planned on watching a movie how about we just watch one at my place?” He offers, something gleaming in his eyes as he does.

“Okay.” You smile, this being the first time you hung out with someone in this town. “Sounds fun.”

So he takes you to his house, and puts a movie on. It gets dark quick due to winter and you both are sitting close together sharing a blanket for warmth as the movie plays in front of you.

You, still in Eddie’s jacket, are calm and relaxed as you keep inhaling the cinnamon scent of the jacket. That is until Steves hand coats your thigh under the blanket, your entire body going ramrod straight as you flush.

He leaves it there for a second, and you think that maybe it was just to sit there but then he slides it up, slowly until he gets to the dress and slides a hand under the skirt of the dress pulling a sharp gasp from you.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and you panic for a second. Is it okay?

I mean you didn’t like him like that, but if he liked you like that….. you didn’t want to lose a friend.

And that’s how you ended up laying on your back with Steve Harrington above you, your dress pushes up to your hips and your underwear tossed to the side.

He had slipped a condom from his back pocket, and soon enough he was thrusting into you, breathy pants falling from his lips as he closed his eyes and began to move.

And you feel guilty at the fact that you weren’t enjoying it, so you close your eyes and try your best to get into it, breathing in the scent of Eddie’s jacket as you relax your body and just imagine.

Soon enough it’s not Steve panting above you with short thrusts, it’s Eddie. The cinnamon smell of him easing you and the brown eyes making you melt.

It’s not Steves hand awkwardly pawing at your breast through the dress, it’s Eddie ringed hand. And finally, pleasure follows.

You go from feeling awkward and nervous to melting into it, moaning a bit as that fire feeling in your lower half starts rising, you were close…. Almost there if Eddie could just move a little to the left and -

You are snapped from your reality when Steve moans loudly and finishes into the condom, the high that had been building up falls flat and you can do nothing but blink up at Steve.

“Did….. did you want to finish the movie?” You ask lamely, and he sighs.

“Actually my parents are gonna be home soon. I should take you home.” So he does, you say nothing as you get settled in his car, keeping Eddie’s jacket wrapped tightly around you as Steve drives you home.

Once you are out of the car Steve drives off, and you make the short walk to your door in silence. It isn’t until you are safe in your room that you let the tears fall, feeling weird and lonely.

Without really thinking you grab the phone book and dig around until you find the number you’re looking for.

You curl up on your bed, knees tucked under your chin and the jacket wrapped around you as you listen to the phone ring.

“Munsons place. This is Eddie.” You hear him yawn through the phone and your heart starts beating quickly.

“Hey! Is… is this eddie?” You ask, before slapping your forehead. He just said it was you idiot.

“Yes, this is he.”

“Hey, this is-“

“Pretty in pink. How was the movie?” He interrupts and your stomach flutters.

“We actually didn’t go see it, weather was too bad.” You mumble, the words feeling like a stupid lie on your lips as you realize they were indeed a lie. But Eddie doesn’t say anything, he merely hums through the phone.

“What’d you end up doing?”

“Oh just hanging out.” You lie, that gross feeling crawling across your skin. “I just called about your jacket.”

“Oh yeah! Cool. How about I grab it tomorrow? I can pick you up for school if you want?”

“That’d be great!” You smile, something blooming in your chest. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Anything for pretty in pink.”

-

So started your friendship with him.

Every morning he picked you up and every afternoon he took you home unless he had dnd. When word spread about you and Steve you had panicked, Eddie hadn’t batted an eye.

Steve ignored you, so you began thinking that maybe if you ignored it all then it would go away.

No such luck.

The students at Hawkins do not forgive and forget so easily.

Even now, after a long summer and months between the event you found yourself the butt of the joke as you follow Eddie through the school on the first day.

You had spent a majority of your time at his trailer, sleepovers and movie nights a routine. He tried teaching you to drive and you bought him a slushee to make up for the heart attack you gave him at a bad turn.

You had gone to the lake with him in the skimpiest bikini you owned, and he did not once leer at your chest.

You had tried asking him out before, but each time he seemed to shut you down so you settled into the role of best friend, you would take anything you could get from him at this point.

“Slut.” Someone sneers as they pass which makes Eddie smirk.

“Excuse me”. He mumbles, making them stop. “I prefer freak. Keep it simple would you?”

“Whatever freak.” The cheerleader sneers and Eddie smiles watching them walk away before turning to you.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You mumble, pulling him closer by his leather jacket and playing with the worn out zipper on it. He merely gives you an easy smile and shrugs like it was no biggie.

“They called me a slut.” He jokes, pushing his forehead against yours. “You good?”

Right now? With him so close you can smell that fucking cinnamon and mint smell he always had, imagining him moving the last couple inches and planting his lips on yours? No. You were not good.

But you smile and say “yeah” anyways and his own smile widens before he pulls back.

It isn’t until you get to his locker that you work up the nerve to ask him…… again. “Did…. Did you maybe want to go see a movie sometime?”

“We watch movies all the time?” He laughs, not looking at you as he tries to open his locker.

“Well yeah. But maybe like…. At a theater? And you know…..” why were words so hard to process? “We could go together.”

“Oh. Hell yeah.” He smiles and you feel an excited hope spark in your chest. “I’ll ask the boys what movies are playing and we can all ride together.”

And you had been friendzoned by him once more, you try to smile through it, letting him kiss your cheek before heading to class.

-

The boys all really enjoyed the movies, and you would probably have loved it to if you had been able to sit by Eddie. But Gareth and Jeff had taken those seats which left you between Paul and Jordan. Not that there was anything wrong with either of them you just wanted to curl up into Eddie’s side.

Then, as you thought about it a little more, you realized that maybe the boys had thought about that too. Maybe they had talked about it and played intervention, it did seem like Gareth and Jeff lunged for the seats a little too quickly not to mention the fact that you had caught all of them talking about someone but the second you walked up they went quiet immediately.

They are were probably talking about you, oh god they all probably knew you had a huge crush on him and laughed about it when you weren’t there. This was pathetic and -

“Hey.” Someone snaps in front of your face. “We going?”

You blink, processing Gareth standing in front of you with a bored expression, taking a moment to realize all of them are standing in the aisle while you’re still seated.

“Oh…. Um yeah.” You rush, only to jump a bit when the movie continues.

“Holy shit.” Paul mutters and they all stare at the screen for the 2 minute clip that just rolled. When it’s done they all whirl back to you.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were waiting for the credit scene?” Gareth laughs. “I thought you were crazy!”

Ouch.

He walks off to freak out with the rest as Eddie shuffles closer, reaching a hand to help you up that you don’t take. When you avoid eye contact and pull your skirt down he growls out which draws your attention whether you like it or not.

“What?” You huff.

“Why are you looking at me? You mad at me?”

“No?”

“You avoided my hand.”

“I didn’t avoid your-“ you start to lie and he holds out his hand again.

“Then let’s go princess.”

You smile, slapping his hand like a high five and walking past, knowing he’ll get irritated.

“See! You’re mad about somethin’.” He starts after you, making the three steps before grabbing your elbow and sliding his hand down until it’s on your own. “Keep my hand warm.”

“It’s September. Barely even cold.” You smile, gripping his hand anyways as he leads you out of the theater and through the lobby.

The second you both enter the outside world a small curse slips past his lips as you gasp and immediately move closer, the two of you staying huddled together as you walk to his van.

The second you get there he opens the door, glaring at the boy taking your normal spot during group hangouts.

“Move.”

“Eddie! I never get to sit here man-“

“Jordon move.” He sighs, hands wrapping around you from behind in attempt to keep you a little warmer as the kid takes his time climbing to the back. Then Eddie is helping you into the van, hands on your hips to help you step up and make sure your tiny skirt doesn’t slide up.

You get settled in the middle seat right next to the driver seat as he launches in, turning the car on and blasting the heaters.

“You ever think about wearing more clothes?” Paul laughs.

“You ever think about shutting the fuck up?” You snap, panic immediately taking over as your skin heats up. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I-“

But he merely starts cackling as the rest of them do, Eddie laughing loudly as he squeezes your thigh while Paul elbows you a bit before looking out the window.

You’re proud of yourself because you just said something that made them all laugh, and for once you felt like you fit in with the entire group rather than just Eddie.

He squeezes your thigh again as he spins the wheel smoothly, hands flexing as he drives with ease. That heavy hot feeling starts up again, your skin going hot as you imagine what else he could use those hands for.

Imagining him dropping off the others before pulling over and sliding his fingers up your thigh until they got to your skirt, how his lips would feel against your own and-

The daydream is cut off by the loud rock music Paul turns on, the rest of them beginning to rock out as you tried calming yourself down.

-

Next came Josh Kelleck.

He was a grade above you, and he was really sweet. You didn’t know what to say when he asked you out but people were watching and you didn’t want to be the bad guy so you said yes.

And it was fun, you had been dating him for about 3 weeks and though it wasn’t rock your socks romantic you did have fun.

On the third week you have sex on the couch in his basement, you straddling his hips, rocking back and forth as he mewled below you with his hands gripping your hips. And you were actually getting into it.

Here’s the thing, you were a terrible person.

You weren’t getting pleasured by Josh per se. No no no. It was Eddie below you, it was Eddie gripping your hips as you bounced up and down , his hair that you currently tugged on.

At some point you zoned out Josh’s lame whines and imagined Eddie growling the way he had that night at the theater, glaring up at you.

You were struggling to get there though, if Eddie could just start lifting his hips to meet your bounces then you would be better.

“Can you…” you pant, gripping his hair again. “Maybe like thrust up?”

“Seriously?” The voice under you asks, and you blink slowly because hearing him actually talk ruined Eddie’s image. Shit. You were so close.

But it was too late anyways, Josh sighs before trying to thrust up to meet your own hips, only for his face to pinch up uglishly as he finished into the condom.

“Jesus. Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“It’s fine.” You mutter. It wasn’t.

He breaks up with you two days later, Eddie rolls his eyes when you tell him and a part of you feels like you might be annoying him so you smile and pretend like it’s fine.

“You don’t want to hear about my relationship drama.” You laugh. “Forget it.”

“I always want to hear about your dramas.” He mumbles, eyebrows pinching together. “I just don’t like how they treat you.”

Jesus. Why did he make the crush keep growing?

-

Closer to your birthday you try to hang out with the guys but they are all acting weird.

You ask Eddie during school one day if he wanted to go get food and he shrugs and says it’s a boys night. Guilt and embarrassment crawl through you as you realize that meant you were not invited and you smile and shrug like it was no biggie.

Leaning up to kiss his cheek quickly, enjoying the way his hand lands on your hip to keep you stable as you come back down before spinning to show him your outfit. He snatches your lip gloss as a joke when you almost drop it.

“What do you think today?”

“Outrageously cute as always.” He laughs, and you barely even care when two cheerleaders sneer as they pass, how could you when Eddie is looking at you like that?

He says his goodbyes, kissing your forehead before heading off to class and you feel giddy the rest of the day, by the last bell you realize he still had your lip gloss and you wanted to at least say bye before you walked home. So you trailed to the dnd room where you knew they would all be and fixed your hair in preparation to see Eddie.

You stop when you hear them talking about you.

It took you a second to realize it was you, and your hand was already gripping the metal of the handle to turn it when you did finally realize.

“-come on. It doesn’t annoy you that she sleeps around?” Jordon asks. “And that everyone in the school can always see her underwear?”

“You can’t always see her underwear.” Paul defends and you are grateful for him, something warm in your chest. “Just half the time.”

That warmth in your chest shrivels up immediately as they all laugh.

“I kinda like it.” You hear Eddie chuckle out. “She gives the world a show. No cares, confident and happy with herself. How can you not like it?”

At least he was defending you…..sort of.

“You just like that people think you’re banging her.” Jeff laughs and Eddie cackles at that, tears beginning to spring to your eyes.

Was this really happening?

“She complains all the time that she doesn’t like people calling her slut. Yet she never looks at how she dresses, like come on. Get a fucking clue.” Jordon laughs.

“Have you heard her? Girl has no thoughts going between those eyes.” Micah Hughs laughs loudly, the freshman they had just allowed join the group.

You had to get out of here, had to find somewhere else to be and-

In your panic to flee you trip over your own heels, landing awkwardly on the floor and in your panic to stand up you don’t hear Gareth come out of the door to use the bathroom.

It clicks shut, making you whirl to see as he stares at you wide eyes while you let the tears fall freely as you manage to pull yourself up. And it’s made so much worse when you have to tug your dress down your hips to cover your underwear from how you had fallen.

Of fucking course.

“Did you hear-“ he blushes, beginning to gesture to the door behind him before you blink.

“Huh? No. I was c-coming to grab my lipgloss and I fell. Kinda hurt.” You lie, swiping the tears away even though more kept coming.

“You want me to get Eddie? He can drive you home if you're hurt.” Gareth mumbles, looking a bit relieved since you had said you didn’t hear.

“No. I’m just being silly.” You try to laugh, cringing at how airy and vapid it sounds. Micah’s words clinging. “I’m gonna go.”

“Don’t you want to grab your gloss?”

“Oh! I have more at home, no worries.” And to get rid of that suspicion laced on his features you move to walk away.

“I just didn’t want people seeing my walk home in anything but my best.” You giggle, turning and waltzing to the doors like you weren’t truly crushed by what just happened.

-

You play sick the next two days.

You left a voicemail to Eddie’s home while you knew he was still as DND, probably laughing at how slutty and airheaded you were, saying you wouldn’t be at school since you were sick so he didn’t come pick you up.

Spending the first day trying to write it all off, figure out how to move on.

By the second morning you tell your mom to send him away if he knocks, which he does at 6:50 right in the dot. She tells him you’re still sick and you hear him ask if he can see you before he heads off.

“She’s sleeping.” Your mom lies and Eddie thanks her before leaving.

You feel nothing but stupid as you watch his car take off from your window.

She won’t let you call out for a third day so you get dressed and walk to school before Eddie has the chance to pick you up.

You spend the day pulling down your skirt as much as possible feeling dirty at every look you got when normally you wouldn’t have minded.

When Eddie spots you at your locker between classes he gives you a weird look.

“You wanna tell me why you walked today?” He snaps, leaning against the locker next to your own.

“I needed the air.” You lie.

“Okay. Well maybe next time let me know so I don’t show up like some idiot?” His voice is laced with irritation and you think about Micah’s words, something snapping in you.

“I don't need rides anymore.” You snap, watching his face go from irritated to shocked and straight to confused within seconds.

“Wait. Why? What’s going on?”

“I just won’t be-“

“Are you mad at me?” He blurts. “If you are, tell me so we can figure this out. You don’t need to walk everyday, and I was just irritated about this morning. I didn’t mean to be a tool about it.”

“I don’t need rides anymore. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” You shrug quickly, slamming your locker and moving to walk away. He rushes to step in front of you.

“Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry I gave you attitude about this morning. Okay? Please don’t punish me-“ you can’t hear anymore, a bitter laugh crawling up your throat as you shove past him, feeling tears spring to your eyes when you have to fix your skirt.

-

You opt for jeans the next day, and though they chafe against your skin and you feel weird you are also glad you don’t have to keep pulling them down.

And since you donned sneakers your ankles weren’t screaming at every step.

But you still didn’t feel right….. this didn’t feel like you.

“You eating lunch with us today?” Jeff asks, walking alongside you after math, his eyes continuously falling to your legs.

“No. I have to do makeup work for science.” You lie, not meeting his gaze.

“I’ll tell Eddie then.” He nods, holding his hand out for a high five which you ignore and walk off.

-

Ignoring Eddie after school had been easy since you took the side exit out and cut through the woods to get home.

Immediately hiding in your room to do homework before you hear the familiar sounds of his van pull up and hear it slam shut aggressively.

Rushing down the steps the second he pounds on the door and opening it just a crack to see him panting.

“Glad to know you made it home.” He grunts, pushing past you into the welcome hall of your home. Before you can say anything he shoves something at you.

A small bag, from the store, and when you open it you see flu medicine and tissues with a box of chicken noodle soup.

“Jeff said you still weren’t feeling good so I got you some stuff.” He mumbles, seeming to detense a little when he rolls his shoulders. “I was worried when I didn’t see you after school.”

“Sorry.” For what? Not wanting to be near them?

“What’s with the jeans?”

“Cold.”

“Why does it feel like you’re lying to me?” He blurts.

“I’m not.” You lie again, shrugging. “I have to do homework and stuff. I’ll see you at school okay?”

“I can pick you up.”

“I’m good.”

“Princess, come on.” He snaps and you open the door to let him out, still not meeting his gaze when he storms out.

-

The makeup is the next to go.

You toss and turn all night, feeling embarrassed and miserable, and it’s nearly 4 when you fall asleep. You wake up late for school and jump to throw on a sweater and jeans, booking it out the door as fast as you can and dashing to school.

You miss first period and get a detention slip, people stare in the halls and you just feel miserable.

It’s made worse when Eddie finds you in the science room during lunch.

You had been napping, forehead pressed to the cold table, since you hadn’t slept last night. But that’s ruined when you hear the stool beside yours screech and you jump straight, eyes wide as Eddie tries to smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He mumbles, reaching his hand out to rub your arm in an attempt to relax you. “Still feeling sick?”

“Yep.” You lie, looking away. He reaches out to feel your forehead for a temp and you let him, enjoying the small amount of contact you can get before you go back to avoiding them.

He sighs at the feel of your forehead, closing his eyes a bit while he looks like he’s debating something. “Fuck it.” He mutters before moving to stand, pushing your legs apart and standing between them as he shoves your face into his chest and wraps his arms around you tightly.

The second he has you in his arms he breathes out a sigh of relief, kissing the top of your head a couple times.

“What are you doing?” You mumble.

“It’s been a minute since I’ve gotten to hug you.” He admits, holding you a little tighter. “How about we go to the diner tonight? I’ll even get you a milkshake-“

“I have detention.”

“Since when do YOU get detention?” He scoffs.

“I was late this morning.”

“You’re sick.”

“Tell that to the teacher.”

“I fucking will. Is it Mr. Rojas?! I’ll go talk to him right fucking now because that could go on your file and-“ he’s ranting as he moves to walk away, until you grab his leather jacket and pull his attention back.

He stares at you, eyes glued to your own while he just takes you in. And then after a moment of silence he whispers “you’re scaring me.”

“Why?”

“You’re not being you.”

“I…..” you try to find something to say, but can find absolutely nothing and just manage to shrug. “I’m tired.”

You expect him to get the hint and leave, but he shrugs back as moves to sit on the stool he started in, pulling out his Dnd book as you lay your head down.

After a moment you feel him start rubbing your back and let sleep claim you.

-

Eddie was miserable.

There was something wrong and he couldn’t figure out how to fix it which was beginning to piss him off more. You were mad at him, he knew that. And suddenly you don’t want to dress up anymore? What the fuck?

Since when have you ever…. God did someone say something to you? Did someone make a move on you? Was he too much? Shit he had to have made you feel uncomfortable somehow.

If that was true he would kill himself. If he harassed you in anyway then he would jump off the cliff-

“Hey.” Gareth greets, looking nervous.

“Hey?” Eddie greets back, eyes snapping to where his friend stands in front of the porch where Eddie is sitting with a cigarette in hand. “Why are you here?”

“I came here about princess.” Gareth sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why?” Eddie snaps out, feeling protective. If Gareth did something to you-

“She heard us.”

“I’m sorry?”

“That night at DND whike everyone was shittalking her? When I went to use the bathroom I saw her in the hall.”

“I wasn’t shit talking her-“

“No. But the other boys were and I know she heard them. She was crying and-“

“WHY DIDNT YOU SAY SOMETHING THEN?!” Eddie yells, flicking the cigarette away and moving to his van.

“Where you going man?”

“To talk to her.”

-

He doesn’t knock this time, he already knows your parents aren’t home and so he storms in and slams the door shut before he takes the stairs 4 at a time and waltzes into your room quickly.

Flicking on the light switch he sees you snap awake from a nap, reaching a hand out to your exposed ankle and dragging you down the bed.

“Rise and shine princess.” He greets, as you try to register what’s happening.

“Why are you here?” You snap, trying to wake up.

“When we’re you going to tell me you heard?” He snaps back, face getting into yours. “Huh? Just gonna be mad forever and stop talking to us?”

“Yeah! Maybe!” You scoff, eyes staying on the floor beneath him as he tries not to lose his shit. Look at me look at me lookatme.

Finally he loses control, hand flying to your jaw to make you look up. “Look. At. Me.”

“Why?! So you can run and tell your friends-“

“I didn’t say anything bad-“

“YES YOU DID!”

“NO I FUCKING DIDNT!”

“You said ‘she puts on a show, no cares’ and-“

“You do put on a show! I put on a show! This town is so fucking boring they they are begging for drama and we just so happen to provide most of it. What’s the fucking problem with me calling it?”

“Then you laughed when Jeff said-“

“I KNOW WHAT JEFF SAID!”

“YOU LAUGHED!”

“BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS IVE BEEN PINING AFTER YOU!” He screams. “I wasn’t fucking laughing at you I was laughing at myself. And I’m really frustrated that you would think I would ever laugh at you for something like that.-“

“Okay so you didn’t say anything. You let others say it.”

“Since when do I have any fucking control over what they say?”

“Oh please. We all know you’re their fucking god. You snap your fingers and they all get on their knees. Yet somehow I’m the slut-“ his hand grabs the back of your neck then, pulling your face into his own aggressively as his lips finally meet yours.

He nearly melts at the touch, body fizzing as his stomach does waves.

You kiss back, thank goodness for it, wrapping your arms around him as his other hand snakes around your waist. After a minute you both pull back, eyes wide as stare at eachother.

You’re the first to move after that, pulling him back in to keep making out, which he happily does. You slide your hands under his leather jacket, sliding them across his chest until your pushing the jacket off.

He has to remove his hands from you to help you get it off, which leaves him cold and he tries to reach for you again only for you to step back and tear your sweater off.

“Wait-“ he blurts, heart stopping as your eyes widen.

“I’m so sorry. That was- oh my god I thought you wanted-“

“I do. I do I do I do. But I only want it if you want it.”

“I’m sorry?” You blink. Shit, we was gonna pummel Steve Harrington and that other fucking kid.

“I only want to have sex if you want to have sex. I don’t want you to do it because you think I want to do it.”

“I….. I want to do it.”

“You hesitated.”

“Eddie-“

“I just want you feeling comfortable and-“ but you are leaning up to kiss him again, a growl slipping past his lips into your own as you moan out quickly.

You reach for his belt buckle and he helps take it off, jumping from his pants as he tears his shirt off and tries to kiss you again before you reach to take your pants off.

“I like when you….” He starts, moving to help with your pants, all but tearing them off.

“You like?”

“I like when you defend yourself. When you snap at me and argue with me. I like that fucking fire.” He smiles. “It always makes me really hard. But I don’t like when you shut down.”

“I haven’t shut down-“

“You have.” He interrupts. “And you fucking scared me. I don’t think you’re a slut or anything else. I’ve always admired you for everything. You hear me?”

“I….” You didn’t know what to say, your heart beating through your chest and your lungs constricting. “I just-“

“I get it. Maybe you need a break from the dresses and I’m all for that. Hell, I’ll take you to get jeans anytime you want. And I love your face, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, with it without makeup. But baby these past couple days you-“

“I just was embarrassed.” You admit. “I felt disgusting and-“

Before you can finish your sentence he sighs out, looking to be in pain as he crawls over you until his forehead is resting on your chest and he collapses on top of you, keeping you held close. “Imsosorry.”

It’s muffled since his face is pressed into your skin and he wraps around you like a koala bear. “Imsosorry.”

“It’s fine.” You lie.

“It’s not.” He snaps, sitting up a bit. “It’s not fine. I’m so sorry. You were feeling this way because of all that shit and- you were never supposed to get hurt because of me. The rest of the school is bad enough but I wanted you to feel safe around me and-“ he breathes out, tightening his arms around you if that’s even possible.

“It’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry.” And you don’t know why, but you feel the safest you ever have in his arms, letting him hold you and you both somehow managed to fall asleep.

-

When you woke up you were both still stripped to your underwear, but the comforter had been pulled up and your face was pressed into a pillow with hot puffs blowing on the back of your neck making you giggle as your body shudders.

He wakes up at the movement, the arm wrapped around you pulling you in as he blinks away the grogginess. “What’s wrong?”

“You were breathing down my neck.” You admit, laughing when he does it again on accident before turning so you were facing each other rather than spooning you. He takes to rubbing slow circles on your lower back where his hand sits, first a star and then a heart. His eyes are still closed, on the cusp of waking and dreaming still, his mouth opened partially.

“We didn’t have sex.” You whisper.

“Then why am I so tired?” He mumbles back, making you roll your eyes at his joke.

“I think….. it’s weird that we haven’t done it and yet this feels so much more warm and intimate than the…. Others.”

“You deserved better.” He grunts, eyes cracking open just the slightest bit.

“It wasn’t bad, it was just-“

“Did you cum?” You choke at his questioning, eyes wide as his own open up fully to watch your reaction.

“I’m not telling you that.”

“That’s answer enough.” He chuckles lowly before going a little serious. “Did…. Did you want to cum?”

“I……” your body is hot, and you’re sure he can feel your heart beating through your skin and into his. Finally, you let out your breathy answer. “Yeah.”

“Can I…. Can I make you?”

“If you want.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. But you know the second his eyes glaze over with a heated determination that he wants nothing more.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you, not as his hand slides from your lower back down to your ass and feeling the skin there in slow circles.

Then he moves his hand to your thigh, pushing a bit so you’re laying on your back while he stays on his side, his palm sliding across your skin slowly, warming you up even more.

“You’re gorgeous.” He mutters, eyebrows pinching together as he gazes down at you. With his hair a little wild from the sleeping and his eyes still glazed over you can’t seem to look away. “So freaking beautiful.”

He hadn’t even started yet and you were already a blushing mess beneath him, finally looking away to cover your face as his finger begins tracing around your panties.

“No no no.” He whines, pressing his face into yours as he begins leaving lazy kisses. “I want to see your face. Let me see you.”

“You’re making me nervous.” You growl out as his finger toys with the waistband of the lace fabric.

“Am I? Because I’m stating a fact?” He laughs lightly, nipping at your jaw before you finally move your hands and his smile widens from ear to ear.

“Eddie….” You blush, getting ready to tell him to shove off before his finger finds purchase between your folds, pulling a gasp from you as he laughs.

“Take a deep breath now.” He teases, rubbing softly and moving to keep kissing at your face, bringing his thumb to help his ministrations.

You moan when he presses that magic spot and you hear him gasp from beside you. “You ready?”

“I’m ready.” You nod a little bit too eagerly.

And with that he pushes two fingers into you, biting your earlobe as you moan, before he begins moving them in and out.

“Is this good?”

“Just…. Maybe….” You don’t know how to explain it, and you don’t want to make him feel bad so you shrug. “It’s good.”

“Bullshit.” He laughs. “Show me what you want.”

So you do, his tone making you more confident as your own hand slides down to cover his. “That’s it. Show me how you like it.”

You do, using your hand to guide his own, his two fingers pressing in and out of you as his thumb begins rubbing at your clit making you shudder in pleasure.

“Oh…” you gasp, the heat in your lower gut beginning to tighten. And then he curls his fingers and your back arches, a louder moan falling from your lips as he kisses at your shoulder.

He does it again, speeding up his thumb as your eyes clench, that tight feeling getting worse. Your stomach coiling as your legs shove together in panic.

“Wait-“ you rush, not understanding the feeling.

“Trust it princess.” He growls. “Be my good girl and let go, yeah?”

“Ed’s, no-“ but it’s too late, a cry slips from your lips as your high comes, that feeling finally uncoiling as your body shudders.

“God. You’re fucking Beautiful.” He growls, pushing his face into your neck to kiss you as you breathe in and out and begin relaxing again.

You’re body grows heavy, sleep edging at your vision but you sit up and move for the waistband of his boxers before he stops you, shaking his head. “Not about me tonight. Okay princess? Just let me hold you.”

And so you do, feeling a little weird at the fact that he wasn’t immediately jumping up to leave, closing your eyes as you finally cave into the sleep.

-

The next morning, to your shock, he sits at the end of your bed and watches you get dressed with narrowed eyes.

You start with the crappy jeans you had been wearing, but sigh when you realize they were still caked in mud at the bottom and slipping them off to search through your closet once more.

He watches, not saying anything at first but then he stands up abruptly and shuffles closer to move past you and dig through your closet for you and snatches a cute skirt with the top you always wore with it.

You watch with raised eyebrows when he hands them to you.

“You want a longer skirt?” He offers when you seem to hesitate. “I didn’t see another pair of jeans in there.”

“Maybe… a longer skirt.” He smiles at the answer, a purely happy smile, before he dives back in to search while you move to finish getting ready. He finds a longer, knee length skirt that still matches the top and moves over. Bending down and tapping your calf to tell you to step into the skirt. Using him to help you stay stable and letting him dress you in the skirt. His hands slide against your skin, and he zips it slowly before they slide up your abdomen up to your neck and to your jaw as he smiles. His thumb rubs your skin before you pull back. “Don’t mess up the makeup.”

“I would never.” He grins wolfishly gripping the back of your head and pulling you in for a deep kiss that definitely messes your gloss up.

You growl displeasure but kiss back just as heartily.

-

At lunch you don’t have a chance to hide in the science room, Eddie is waiting at the door and pulls you away with his arms around your shoulders. He pretends to faint, dragging you both into lockers as you laugh loudly.

“You gonna come eat with us?” He asks softly.

“No….. but maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Okay, well I can take you home after school or maybe…. You’d want to- okay how about we go get dinner. Just you and I.” He mumbles, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“Sounds great.” You smile. “See you after school then?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby.” He smiles, kissing you once more before heading into the lunch room.

There was a lot of work to do to make everything right again, and Eddie had to start. Today he would be setting things straight with his friends.

[mysticmunson]

date night: alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader

summary: finally scoring a date, things go smoothly until you present, and only one alpha knows.

word count: 2.8k

authors note: hii so i wrote this like two months ago and tried wrapping it up to have it posted, but i enjoy this au so please request some expansion requests :)

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, smut 18+

The pungent smell of fryer grease sifted through the air of Benny’s, a mountain of food divided into a few plates as you sat with Robin, who was in the midst of discussing her most recent ‘study date’ with Vickie.

“Get this! We’re sitting there, talking about chemistry, and bam!” Robin exaggerates, voice lowering in fear of someone overhearing, “She looked at me and kissed me!”

You gasp, smacking her shoulder with the back of your hand, a french fry between your thumb and index finger. 

The couple had kissed a few times now, but the excitement remained as you knew how badly your friend pined over the redhead. 

“We just need to find you someone now.” She teased, taking a bite of her grilled cheese as a string of orange came from between the bread.

“I’m determined to get laid by the end of this month,” You proclaimed, giving yourself around 30 days, “I want to experience it because when or if I present, I want to be somewhat prepared.”

Presenting was a concern for your age group, freshly out of high school, as everyone awaited to discover if they would become an alpha or omega. There had been a few start to show, including your best friend, Steve. 

His presentation was expected, his father a well-known alpha in town, and the traits of one showed early. He was fiercely protective of those he cared about, known to be more than good in the sheets, and strong. Having grown up with him, you saw it happen in real time, making it even stranger when you realized how attractive he became.

Still, Robin supported you on your journey, but worried for your safety. Over analyzing any recollection you shared of a man flirting with you, deciding he was a murderer or ugly, or both. 

In her bedroom, you stood in a loose blouse, tucked into a jean skirt and a matching jacket. Applying another layer of lipstick, you fretted over your appearance as you waited for the clock to strike 6:30, and for your date to pick you up here. 

“Steve is coming over.” Robin mentioned, sipping on her water bottle, sitting cross-legged on her bed.

“Okay,”  You reply, “We just need him gone by the time Devin comes.”

Steve was a great best friend, but he could be a real pain in the ass. He had been scaring any potential boyfriend away since middle school, deeming them not good enough or them being too intimidated by him as he faked a macho persona.

For the plan to work, he couldn’t know. He would go on a tangent about how you didn’t have to have sex just to do it. That was true, but it was hard to listen to a guy who had numerous sexual partners preach it.

The front door swung open as if on cue as you and Robin went to the living room, Steve kicking off his shoes. He began his rant about work, Family Video making him lose hair from stress and children yanking on his hair.

You paid attention, but kept an extra eye on the clock, noticing the hands nearing 6:30. Cursing Steve’s tangent for not letting him leave sooner, you swallowed your anxieties, peaking to make sure a car wasn’t outside. As inconspicuously as possible, you stood and went to grab your heels from Robin’s room. 

Toeing quietly, you were hoping to go unnoticed, but Steve decided to be aware for one of the first times tonight. “Where are you going? You’re dressed up.”

Shrugging, you leaned against the wooden door, “Just out for the night, a friend is picking me up.”

A terrible liar, you thought of something that wasn’t completely fictional, however, they both could tell. The sight of headlights caught your attention, standing straighter, “Okay, bye!”

Robin rushed to the front door to stick her head out as you walked away, “Wrap it before you tap it!”

Embarrassment crawling up your neck, you flicked her off behind your back, opened the car door, and stepped in.

“What!” Steve gasped, startling Robin as she shut the door and who hadn’t expected him to follow her or hear him. Thankfully, the car had pulled away, leaving a confused man with a bit too much heat in his cheeks at his best friend to get some.

“I’m just kidding, Harrington. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Robin snarled, shoulder-bumping him as she went back to her couch. 

The date was fine, Devin was a kid you’d gone to school with since diapers. He had boyish features, cheeks a bit chubby with dimples, and was always polite. He had asked you to hang out a few days prior, agreeing on tonight.

Curls in your stomach that you attributed to nerves hadn’t vanished, even as you both mutually realized midway through your walk in the park that things were platonic. 

Heat simmered within you, discarding your jacket and feeling beads of sweat trickle down the back of your neck. It wasn’t hot outside, even as you walked around and chatted. 

“Are you okay? I don’t mean to sound rude, you don’t look well.” Devin questioned, a hand on your shoulder as your legs began to wobble. 

Nausea flooded you before dissipating, wavering emotions as you tried to make sense of what was wrong. 

Through the nerves, you kept thinking of Steve. How he would let his fingers trail against your lower back in hugs, kiss your head when leaving, and put his hand in front of your body when he hit the brakes too hard while driving.

“I don’t know.” You mumbled, feeling tears threaten through. As you made that statement, you felt the surge between your legs, knowing you had presented. 

It couldn’t be happening now. Not with someone you didn’t know well. Not when you hadn’t been able to score a boyfriend first. Not now. 

“I think I need to go home, I’m so sorry-” You began, huffing as streaks of mascara fell down your warm cheeks. 

Assuring you it was okay, Devin drove you home, even stopping to get you a snack to make your stomach feel at ease. While it didn’t help, you appreciated the thoughtful gesture and thanked him as he waited for you to get securely in your apartment.

The space went from chilly to scorching, removing any amount of clothes you could besides a pair of boyshorts. Your mind raced with confusion as your nipples became hard, feeling a chill, but like a fire on ice. 

Anxieties without category hit you, curling in a ball as you cried, sitting on your floor. It felt pathetic, but no stream of thought was strong enough to withstand the hormones.

Time slipped by as you tried regulating your breathing, applying slight pressure on your clothed core. A shrill ring came from your black phone, lifting the handle and pressing it to your ear.

“You were not supposed to answer!” Robin grumbled, already giving the heads up that she’d call to see if you were getting some, that no answer would be her answer. You had forgotten this rule, her tone making you bring in a fresh set of tears.

On the other end, Robin sat in her room with Steve walking in, not staying in the living room as she had asked. Her priorities were averted to the cry on the other side of the phone.

“Wait, what happened? Why are you crying? What happened with Devin?” Robin frantically questioned, Steve glancing over with furrowed brows as Robin had never stated who she was speaking with. 

“Devin? From junior year math class? That was the friend?” Steve grimaced, toying with nicknacks in his friend’s bedroom, earning a finger on the lips to quiet him down.

“I presented,” You whispered, “I’m so scared and uncomfortable and overwhelmed! What alpha do you know, I don’t care who it is anymore.” 

Though you would probably care later, the clouded judgment had you aching for any form of reprieve from the pain. 

“Fuck, I don’t know!” Robin squeaked, not wanting to reveal your status to Steve for fear of your embarrassment, but she contemplated. The gears of her brain turned as she questioned his overprotectiveness, the way he was quick to frustration when discovering you were on a date.

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out, Y/N. I promise.” She concluded, hanging up and grabbing her yearbook.

The faces of former students made her ill, but word got around about presentations, and she hoped that seeing their faces would make her recollect.

“What the hell’s going on? Do I need to go fight Devin?” Steve eyed his friend, an unnerving worry in his stomach. 

Biting her lip, she debated internally, “She needs help.”

“What is looking at that going to do?” Steve gawked, used to his friend’s antics, but still astounded when they acted erratically.

“I’m trying to remember who’s an alpha.”

“Why would you need to know who became an alpha-”

As the words left, his mouth ran dry, and he gulped while looking at Robin. She slowly looked up, watching the dark iris’ before her enlargen.

“Steve-” Robin began, the corner of a page between her two fingers.

The stern look on his face was withholding a multitude of emotions, ones she couldn’t quite make out. She made the judgment call that maybe Steve was your best bet.

“She’s at her place.” 

That was all that needed to be said before Steve ran out her front door and into his car. He had driven your route a million times, but never this fast. 

His blood pumped with nerves and excitement. He had spent his ruts alone, a fist full of himself with the occasional tears of frustration as he tried to alleviate his knot. But now you had presented as an omega.

Refraining from palming his crotch, he watched your streetlights come into view, throwing his car into park. The dark hallways were typically concerning, but your door was practically glowing within his mind.

He growled at the smell in the air, catching his attention more the closer he got. Gripping the door handle, it was unlocked, thankful no one else had noticed the compromising position. 

Choking on his own breath, he fumbled with the lock behind him and trekked down the dim hallway. The protectiveness he already felt was consuming, his palms sweating as he made his way closer. 

The door swung open too quickly as the handle slipped from his grasp, seeing you flinch from your curled position on the floor. 

As if you were nothing, he lifted you from your armpits, making you stand in front of him. Eyes blazing, he looked pointedly as he undid his belt.

“Your door.” He stated, voice wavering with stability.

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at him, “What?”

His shirt was shrugged off, tossing it to the ground as your eyes drifted to his broad chest, whimpering at the sight to his delight.

“It was unlocked, don’t you ever fucking do that again.” He gritted pushing his jeans off, cupping your cheek with one hand and leaning forward so the back of your knees touched your bed. 

His nose had skimmed against yours, breath fanning against your cheeks as you drank in every pheromone he perpetrated. Breath quickening, every thought coming to your head was vulgar, eyes softening in need.

“I won’t.” You whimpered, yelping as your back hit the wrinkled sheets, and his chest soon pressed against your bare one. 

“I mean it, don’t ever do that again, you could’ve gotten hurt.” He gripped your chin in his grasp, looking down at you as your clothed centers touched.

The brief touch made you wail, your body suddenly aware of what was to come. Equally as impatient, he grabbed one side of your underwear and ripped it. Repeating the act on the opposing side, the shreds of fabric were now a relic of the you before this moment.

Palming himself, looking down at your frame as a predator and prey, he growled. 

“How bad do you want it?” He egged on, ripping his own boxers off and onto the floor. 

“Please, Steve, please.” You whined, watching as his cock bobbed. Blushing profusely pink, your mouth watered at it and your chest began to burn with greed.

He seemed far too composed, the performance of himself he was forced to obtain through most of his teen years floating to the top. However, his soft spot was you. It always had been and both of your fresh senses were sensing the discomfort in both of you. 

“Alpha, please.”

That was all it took for his body to be pressed to yours and his lips to meet yours for the first time. 

Grunts and gasps came from you both as the underside of his cock rubbed against your folds, too consumed with how he tasted and how you smelled. 

“Keep that door locked, do you understand?” He gritted, fisting himself in his own grasp, his first thrust in synchronizing with your nod.

A pained cry rose from your lungs, tears already streaming down your cheeks, his lips kissing where the beads were.

Desperation reeked from you both as you grabbed at one another, needing any form of solidification that the other was there. 

Steve found comfort in your warmth, trying his best to soothe your discomfort with affection. Kissing on your neck or rubbing your clit, the latter making you shriek from sensitivity. 

“My omega now,” He sighed, balls reaching the curve of your ass as he settled against you, “my girl. Always have been.” 

“Always yours, alpha, always Steve.” You trembled, the veins of his length stimulating every ridge within yourself. His brown hair crowned around his face, only able to see him in your state of need. 

Though you were the one presenting, Steve felt the same wave of emotions he felt during his first rut, but now even more with another person. His person. The one who knew him since he had gaps in his front teeth, since he had graduated, and every minute moment before and after.

“Fuck, I love you.” He blurted out, feeling his own bashfulness creep up his neck. 

To his relief, you began to be more overcome with emotion, agreeing. Each thrust hit your spongy spot inside you, convincing you more and more he was the only one who could make you feel this way.

“I love you too,” You revealed, locking his lips between yours briefly, “M’sorry I didn’t ask for you first, I was nervous.”

Your words were sweeter than honey, but the implication that someone else almost came to your aid burned him deeply. His hands pushed up your thighs, your knees coming up as he fucked you deeper than you could comprehend. 

“Devin asked me out and I just wanted a boyfriend, but I didn’t want him, I swear-” You cried, unknowingly provoking more possessiveness. 

“Honey, please, it’s okay.” He gritted, clenching sheets in his shaking hands, suppressing the urge to flick his hips quicker.

“I wanted you, alpha, please.” You sighed, stroking his cheek and hair, anywhere you could touch, “I’m so happy, I’m sorry, thank you-”

“Don’t worry, I would’ve found you anyway. You’re my girl, my omega.” He assured, gulping down the emotions he felt when you looked into his eyes.

His words appeared to have a larger effect than any physical reimbursement could do for you as your fingers clenched within his hair. 

Your cry as you came made his hormones go into a flurry. He could feel your uneasiness being thrown into release. It was as if your chests opened in tandem, reaching out and moving in sync as he finished inside you.

White noise filled both of your ears as Steve’s body hovered over yours with much of his weight on top of you. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his chest, shoving your face against the crook of his neck. 

Pumping himself within you until sensitivity took over, he gasped at how you clenched around him. His stature shook as he knotted, a hand going to your hip to keep in place, chest heaving to regain a steady tempo.

“Thank you.” You whimpered, hugging his chest closer to your front, an embrace he matched. Pressing a kiss on the side of your forehead, he trailed down to your ear with pecks and bites.

Rolling to his back, he pulled you to his chest, rubbing your back after you tried sitting up.

“Just relax, honey.” He cooed, the exhaustion already hitting you both, stilling your hips from causing you both more frustration in the compromising position. 

“I want to make you knot again.” You whine beneath your breath, trying to sit up again, ignoring the pain shooting through your body at his swelling. 

“Easy tiger,” He chuckles, biting his lip to stop his own need, “we’ve got time.”

tagging mutuals :)

@andvys @lilacletter @corrodedcorpses @munsonsreputation @berryfairy444 @poppy-metal @lesservillain @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint

[dreamofbecoming]

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

[mvnsvn6]

Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤

So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him. 

And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school. 

So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages. 

A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness. 

The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud. 

"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now." 

And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot. 

"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."

And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him. 

"You're being serious."

Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life. 

"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."

Yeah, real eloquent Edward. 

Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it. 

And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips. 

"You just kissed me."

It comes out disbelieving. 

"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."

"You're insane."

And hands weave through curls and pull. 

Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his. 

And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue. 

Eddie has never been so in love in his life.

[hbyrde36]

Inspired by this TikTok

I wrote this instead of everything else I should be working on, enjoy! 😂

Rating: G | WC: 2494 | AO3

Eddie took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally for the night ahead as he walked up the street towards the place he was supposed to meet his blind date.

He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this, but it wasn’t like he was having any luck finding love on his own. 

After several failed long-term relationships with fuckboys that weren’t worth his time and heartache, who ran the second things got real, he joined the apps—quickly realizing that most of the guys he found on there were only looking for sex. Which was fun and all, but Eddie wanted more. 

He was looking for romance, a spark, someone he could see spending his life with, who was also looking for a partner. Someone who wasn’t allergic to commitment. 

So, he’d quit the apps. 

And when Chrissy told him she had a guy she wanted him to meet he figured, fuck it, he’d tried everything else. 

Steve Harrington. 

He was a friend of Robin’s, Chrissy’s new girlfriend who Eddie hadn’t had the chance to meet yet, but apparently the three of them had gotten together last weekend, and now Chrissy was convinced the man and Eddie were perfect for each other. 

“On the surface it’s giving opposites attract,” she’d said, “but under the carefully styled hair and button down shirts, Steve is not at all what you’d expect. He’s kind, funny, a little weird, and way different than the guys you usually go for—but in the best way. Just give it a chance. I promise at the very least you’ll have a good time and maybe make a friend.”

Eddie wasn’t so sure that’d be the case, but he was here, willing to give it a go, and he had a trick up his sleeve. A little idea he’d stolen from a TikTok video that had, so far, a 100% success rate for exposing duds.

He reached his destination and pushed open the door, entering the warm dimly lit restaurant, and before he’d even reached the hostess stand noticed a man rising from his seat, smiling and waving—waving at him.

And oh, oh Chrissy had better count her days because Eddie was going to fucking kill her. Steve, assuming this was the guy, was quite literally the hottest man he’d ever seen in real life. 

She couldn't warn a guy?  

Eddie raised his hand, absently returning the wave as he continued to stare a little dumbstruck at his date. 

Get it together, Munson. 

Mercifully, Eddie was able to snap out of it enough to put one foot in front of the other again and make his way over to their booth.

There was an awkward moment where Steve couldn’t seem to make up his mind between shaking Eddie’s hand, or hugging him in greeting. 

Honestly Eddie wasn’t sure of the protocol either since it was his first blind date. He supposed this was to be expected. Not only were they about to embark upon the supremely awkward adventure that was every first date ever, but they were also meeting for the very first time having never seen or spoken to each other before.    

In the end it became one of those half-and-half bro hugs with the little pat on the back, before they took their seats opposite one another. 

Steve was the first to break the silence. “It’s good to meet you, Chrissy told me a lot about you.” 

“Wish I could say the same.” Eddie muttered under his breath. 

“Oh, um.”

“Sorry, it’s—I didn’t mean,” Eddie shook his head at himself. “Ignore me.”

“No, I'm sorry.” Steve raked a hand over his face. “It’s weird right? This is weird. I tried to tell Robin—I mean, who even goes on blind dates anymore!”

It surprised a laugh out of Eddie that he couldn’t have held back if he tried. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. 

Great job, Munson, laugh at the guy—great way to make a first impression. 

But then Steve was cracking a little lopsided smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly with it. He didn’t seem offended, or mad. 

Fuck. 

He wasn’t just dangerously hot, he was cute too. 

Eddie tugged lightly on his shirt collar, and cleared his throat. “It’s a little weird, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

Their server chose that moment to arrive and introduce herself, taking their drink order—some local craft beer Eddie had never heard of for Steve, a Jack and coke for himself—and Eddie used the temporary distraction to try and regain some composure. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t already hoping this would go somewhere, that Steve would be different from all the others.

But when the server had gone and it was just the two of them again, Steve opened his mouth and Eddie instantly flashed back to every bad first date he’d been on.

“So, what’s your favorite—”

Steve hadn’t even finished asking his first question before Eddie was interrupting, raising a hand to tick off each response on his fingers as he went.

“Black, metal, D&D, the 1999 cinematic masterpiece The Mummy starring our lord and savior Brendan Fraser, The Silmarillion, cheeseburgers, Halloween, aaaaand—a dog.”

Steve blinked at him. “...What?”

“My favorite color, genre of music, hobby, movie, book, food, holiday, and of course the classic—if I could be any animal, what animal would I be and why?” 

Eddie let his hand fall to the table with a soft thud. “Dog—hands down. And I know I look more like someone who’d say black cat or something like that, but I enjoy attention and physical affection far too much to be an aloof feline. Shaggy lovable mutt seems way more my speed.”

By the end of his speech, Steve was grinning from ear to ear, nodding in understanding.

Eddie gave half a shrug, blushing a bit under the full force of Steve’s dazzling smile. “Thought I'd save us some time and speed-run the same old, same old.”

A moment later their drinks arrived and they both sat up a little straighter reflexively as the server set each glass down on cocktail napkins in front of them before scurrying off. 

They’d been leaning in towards each other without even realizing, it seemed. It was Steve’s turn to blush now, Eddie noted with delight as he raised his glass to his lips, grateful to have something to do with his hands.

“I take it you’ve been on a lot of first dates?” Steve asked, taking a long sip from his own drink.

“A few.” Eddie said, tilting his cup to swirl the ice around. “You?”

Steve made a waffling motion with his head. “A few.” 

Eddie took another sizable swig from his glass, focusing for a moment on the burn of the whiskey and the tingle of soda bubbles in his throat as he swallowed, and carefully set his cup down on the table between them. It was almost empty already—should have asked for a double. 

“Okay, my turn, “ he said.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You wanna know my favorite color?”

“No, there’ll be plenty of time to find that out later.”

“Presumptuous of you.”

Eddie hummed noncommittally. “More… hopeful.”

Steve let out a breathy laugh. “Alright, what do you want to know?”

Here goes nothing—

“What would you do if we moved in together and I started seeing ghosts and told you that our house was haunted?”

Steve tilted his head to the side, giving Eddie that soft crooked smile again, and damn if it wasn’t becoming one of Eddie’s favorite things. Can you be obsessed with something you’ve only seen twice?

Steve was quiet for a long moment, nearly draining his beer as he thought it over, but eventually set his own drink down beside Eddie’s and looked him dead in the eye. “Is it a nice ghost or a scary ghost? Are we talking banging on walls and rearranging furniture at 3am? Or a cold yet comforting presence in the corner.” 

Eddie put on a show of thinking about it, rubbing his chin and staring off into space as he tried desperately to contain his excitement. He’d never had the question go over this well before. 

Then their server was back, asking if they wanted another round—yes, of course—and if they were ready to order. They hadn’t even cracked open their menus yet, too distracted with talking. 

“Do you know what you want?” Steve asked him.

Eddie swallowed hard. 

You.

“I-I’m not picky. Order for me? Chrissy said you come here a lot so I’m sure you know what’s good.”

Without hesitation Steve ordered them a burger each, and a plate of some sort of fancy fries to share, apparently they had the best fries. 

It hadn’t been another test, honest. Eddie really didn’t care what he ate, this was already turning out to be his best date in far too long—and It could have been a coincidence, maybe Steve ordered burgers there all the time, but Eddie chose to believe it meant Steve had been listening. Test or not, he’d passed with flying colors.

When they were alone again Eddie smoothed his hands along the table, drawing invisible patterns with his fingers and finally answered Steve’s question. 

“Let’s go with scary ghost, but remember you have no proof, you haven't seen it with your own eyes, just my word.”

Steve waved him off as if that was inconsequential, upending his glass to get the last dregs of the beer, and wiping his lips on the back of his hand.

“Okay, well then it depends on how hands on you want to be. We could consult WitchTok, try and cleanse the house ourselves, ask the spirit to leave, that kinda thing. Or maybe find a priest who’d be willing to help us out? That might be a little more difficult since the church isn’t usually our biggest fans, but I could deal with a little homophobia to make sure you were happy and comfortable in our home.”

Eddie’s stomach flipped, heart beginning to race. He wasn’t surprised exactly, Steve had been blowing past his expectations at every turn already, but there was no more perfect answer to his admittedly insane first date question.

So naturally, he had to push. 

“What if I wanted to move?”

Steve shrugged. “Then we’d move.” 

Eddie stared at him incredulously. Steve said it like it was nothing, like uprooting his entire life for some crazy shit was akin to changing his socks. This was all hypothetical, Eddie knew that, and Steve could just be telling him what he wanted to hear, but Eddie had a feeling he was telling the absolute truth

“But we’d be out, at minimum, a month’s rent and security deposit, and what if the landlord won’t let us out of the lease?!” Eddie threw his hands up, suddenly taking his own game much too seriously. “Or godforbid we’d bought the place, then we’d have to sell it and all our money would be tied up in it, and—”

Steve reached out and took Eddie’s hands with his own, gently stroking his thumbs along the back of them. “Baby—baby it’s okay. No amount of money would be worth you feeling unsafe.”

And Eddie was simply going to pass away, because what the fuck—how was this man so perfect?

“Why—how are you single?”

Steve flashed a sad, self deprecating smile. “I’ve been told I can be a little… intense.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Well, historically speaking…”

Eddie leaned over the table, pressing a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. “I happen to like intense.”

Steve sucked in a breath, cheeks flushing again with the most glorious shade of pink. “Good to know.”

They stayed hand in hand talking for a long time, taking turns asking each other the most random questions they could think of. 

“Favorite episode of The Twilight Zone?” Eddie asked. 

“Oh, easy. I don’t know the name of it but it’s the one where the kid is lost and her parents can hear her in the house panicking, but they can’t see her?” 

Eddie nodded his approval. “Little Girl Lost, good choice.” God he was falling more in love by the second. 

“Favorite Abba song.” Steve countered. 

Eddie grinned. “How do you know I even have one? Mean scary metalhead like me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and shot him a look that clearly stated he found Eddie neither mean or scary. “Everybody likes Abba.”

“Well played.” Eddie bit at his bottom lip. He felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. “Fine—while Dancing Queen holds a special place in my heart, and maybe this makes me a gay cliche, but Gimme, Gimme, Gimme fucking slaps.” 

It went on and on like that until eventually their food arrived, forcing them to separate. They still spoke as they finished their meal, and settled their tab, but Eddie missed the warmth of Steve’s hand in his already. 

He suddenly understood why some couples chose to sit together on the same side of a booth. He’d happily look like a dork right now to have the opportunity to be pressed up against Steve’s side, to be able to slide a hand along his thigh and maybe—

“Eddie?” 

Steve’s slightly raised voice found him in his daydream, snapping him out of it abruptly. 

“Wha..?”

“Did I lose you there for a second?” Steve asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Eddie rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, sorry, um—you were saying?”

“I said, I'm having a really good time, and I know we already paid the bill but I really don’t want this night to end, so—” Steve slid out of his seat and moved to stand in front of him, holding a hand out—which Eddie took immediately, of course, and let Steve pull him to his feet. 

“I was wondering if you’d want to take this back to my apartment? Y’know, so we can plan a second date?” He finished with a smirk.

Jesus Christ. 

Warmth shot through Eddie’s body at the implications but he found his heart skipping a beat too, because as much as Steve was teasing, Eddie knew somehow that he meant it about the second date. 

He couldn’t believe his luck, Steve was everything Chrissy had made him out to be, and so much more. He was going to send her the biggest bouquet of flowers tomorrow, and maybe an edible arrangement. Were those still a thing?

Eddie leaned in, letting his lips brush along the shell of Steve’s ear as he spoke. “It’s not haunted, is it?” 

Steve shivered, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling their bodies flush. “No, but if you’re interested I can think of a few other ways to make you scream.”

Thanks as always to the lovely @penny00dreadful for everything😘😘😘

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari

[sidekick-hero]

In Loving Memory

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 4, prompt: Angst with Happy Ending

Tags: Modern AU, rockstar Eddie, plane crash, HAPPY ENDING, minor character death

words: 3.3k | AO3 | mature

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington. My name is Elizabeth Quinn, and I’m part of the cabin crew today. Thank you for choosing to fly with us. I hope you're enjoying your flight so far.”

Steve looks up at the owner of the soft voice to his right. It’s a young woman in a stewardess uniform with big brown eyes that instantly remind him of Eddie.

“Oh, hello. Uhm, yes, everything is fine, thank you.”

The stewardess smiles warmly. “I'm glad to hear that, sir. I wanted to discuss a situation we’re currently facing. As you may know, flights can sometimes be overbooked, and today we have a few more passengers than seats available in first class. We’re looking for a volunteer to move to another section of the plane. In exchange, we’re offering a significant compensation package, including a voucher for a future flight, a complimentary upgrade on your next trip, and a gift card for our in-flight shopping.”

She looks apologetic, and he can tell she hates asking him this. It’s not a particularly long flight, and he mostly booked first class because that’s what his father’s secretary always did for him the few times his parents had him fly to wherever they were. So giving up his seat for a four-hour flight doesn’t seem too bad.

“Yes, I can move to another section of the plane. That’s okay,” he tells the stewardess and is rewarded with a bright, genuine smile adorned with dimples. Another thing that reminds him of Eddie. He pushes the ache in his chest down and returns the friendly smile with one of his own.

“Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Harrington. If you have any specific preferences or questions, please let me know. Your understanding and cooperation greatly help us ensure everyone has a comfortable flight.”

With that, she leads him to another part of the plane, presumably Economy class.

“This one right here, Mr. Harrington. It has extra legroom and is situated next to an emergency exit. I will make sure you have a pleasant flight with us. You can call me with the call button or find me at the front or back of the plane.”

Steve nods with another smile that falls as soon as she walks away to prepare for takeoff. His thoughts wander back to the reason he’s on a flight to LA today.

Eddie.

He still wonders if this is a good idea. When he bought the ticket to LA, he was sure of it. The panic that had constricted his throat had lessened as soon as he pulled up the website of the airline and he felt like he could breathe again for the first time when he got the confirmation mail.

It’s a long shot, he knows that. Surprising Eddie in LA after everything that happened but he hopes it’s a grand enough gesture that maybe Eddie will forget how much Steve has hurt him. Robin suggested to just call Eddie and apologize, explain to him why Steve was so reluctant to take the next step with him.

The truth is, Steve doesn’t think he could handle it when Eddie didn’t pick up the phone or just hangs up on him before he can say his piece. If Eddie decides that it’s too much for him, that Steve’s too much, too damaged, then be it. But he needs to see Eddie one last time, drink in those beloved doe eyes one more time.

Steve thinks about why he and Eddie fought the last time they saw each other. Growing up in a very conservative household, Steve always suspected he might like men as well as women, but he denied any attraction toward men because of what his parents might say. He knew they wouldn’t accept him.

He was 31 when he walked into a bar in Chicago with his best friend Robin and locked eyes with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Eddie was the first man he ever kissed, ever slept with. He couldn’t help himself, not when Eddie flirted with him, wooed him, and made him laugh with his whole body. Steve always assumed what they had was strictly physical, just some fun between two single guys.

But Eddie wanted more than that. He wanted a relationship with Steve.

Eddie had asked Steve to be his date on the red carpet in LA for the Grammy Awards. Eddie was actually nominated with his band, Corroded Coffin, and he wanted to show the world who he loved. But Steve was scared. Everybody would know he was in a relationship with another man. So he declined, and Eddie left Steve’s apartment heartbroken.

Steve can still see the look on Eddie’s face, the hurt in his eyes. It had shattered something inside him, but his fear was stronger. He had watched Eddie walk away, the love of his life slipping through his fingers because he was too afraid to hold on.

Steve’s thoughts are interrupted by the plane's PA system crackling to life, announcing their imminent takeoff. He leans back in his seat, staring out the window as the plane begins to taxi down the runway. The memory of Eddie's face, the pain in his eyes, is as vivid as ever.

He had tried to justify his fear, telling himself it was about protecting Eddie, about not wanting to put him through the scrutiny and judgment that would come from being seen with another man. But deep down, Steve knew it was about protecting himself. He was scared of what his parents would think, what the world would think.

As the plane ascends, Steve closes his eyes, replaying that last conversation with Eddie in his mind.

"Steve, I love you. I want us to be together, really together," Eddie had said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want you by my side at the Grammys. I want to show the world who I love."

Steve had felt his heart pound in his chest, a mix of fear and longing. "Eddie, I can't. You know how my parents are, how everyone will react. It's not that simple."

Eddie's eyes had filled with tears. "It is that simple, Steve. Either you love me enough to be with me, openly and proudly, or you don’t. I can’t keep hiding us. I can't keep hiding you."

Steve had stood there, silent and conflicted, as Eddie walked out the door. The sound of the door closing behind him had felt like the end of everything.

The plane levels off, and Steve opens his eyes, blinking back tears. He knows this trip to LA is a long shot, but he has to try. He has to make Eddie understand how much he means to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone, opening the notes app. He starts typing, trying to find the right words to say when he sees Eddie.

The flight attendants come by with the beverage cart, and Steve looks up to see Elizabeth smiling at him. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Harrington?”

“Just some water, please,” Steve says, returning her smile.

As she hands him the bottle of water, she says softly, “It looks like you have a lot on your mind, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Steve looks up at her as he accepts the cup of water and finds that he actually wants to talk with someone about what he’s about to do. He needs someone to tell him that it’s going to work out.

“I do. I’m on my way to win back the man I’m in love with.”

There, he said it. He admitted that he was in love with another man and now he’s fighting the urge to hide, scared of her reaction. But he holds her gaze, heart pounding in his chest.

“Oh,” she says, her eyes softening, “that explains the look on your face. I think you’re very brave, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve takes a moment, contemplating how much to share. But he feels a strange sense of comfort in Elizabeth’s kind eyes.

“His name is Eddie,” Steve begins, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s kind, talented, and makes me laugh like no one else can. But I let my fear ruin everything between us.”

Elizabeth listens intently, her expression encouraging him to continue.

“We fought because he wanted us to go public, to be together openly. He wanted me to go with him to the Grammys, to be his date. But I was too scared of what my parents would think, what people would say. So, I said no. And he left,” Steve explains, his voice cracking.

Elizabeth nods, understanding in her eyes. “That sounds really hard, Steve. But it also sounds like you care a lot about him.”

“I do,” Steve says, his eyes filling with tears. “I love him more than anything. That’s why I’m going to LA. I need to tell him how sorry I am and that I’m ready to be with him, no matter what anyone else thinks.”

Elizabeth places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It takes a lot of courage to admit when you’re wrong and to fight for what you love. Eddie is a very lucky man to be loved so much by you, Steve. I hope he sees that.”

Steve smiles, feeling a bit lighter. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I really hope he does.”

Elizabeth gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving on to the next passenger. Steve watches her go, feeling a much needed sense of hope. He’s made mistakes, let fear dictate his actions, but he’s ready to make things right.

About two hours into the flight, Steve decides to stretch his legs and walks up and down the narrow aisle. He passes families with little kids, an elderly couple working on a crossword puzzle together, and two young women chatting and laughing. It’s fascinating to see so many different lives intersecting in one place.

On his fifth lap, Elizabeth appears next to him, gently touching his arm.

“Steve, could you please take your seat and fasten your seatbelt?”

He looks at her, puzzled. “But the seatbelt signs are still off.”

“That’s true, but from experience, I know the signs could come on any minute. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before the aisle gets too crowded with everyone returning to their seats.”

Steve nods, appreciating the heads-up. “Thanks for letting me know.” He heads back to his seat.

As Steve settles in and fastens his seatbelt, the plane suddenly lurches violently. The cabin shakes with a gut-wrenching turbulence, hurling passengers and their belongings through the air. Panic erupts as screams fill the cabin, and Steve clings to his seat, trying to stay calm amid the chaos.

Elizabeth dashes down the aisle, her face pale and eyes wide. She spots Steve and rushes over, her voice barely audible over the cacophony. “Steve! Call Eddie! Now!”

Heart pounding, Steve scrambles for his phone. His hands tremble uncontrollably as he dials Eddie’s number. The turbulence makes it nearly impossible to hold the phone steady, but he manages to keep a grip.

The call connects, and Eddie’s voice comes through, thick with confusion and worry. “Steve?” He asks and then he must hear the chaos in the background because he immediately adds, “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice cracks as he fights back tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have been braver. I should have been all in. I’m on this plane, and it’s really bad. I wanted to come to LA to talk to you. I wish I could have done all this in person. I wish I could kiss you one last time.”

Eddie’s voice trembles with desperation. “Steve, what’s happening? Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Steve’s eyes dart around the cabin, the plane shaking violently as alarms blare and panicked voices rise. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want this to be a goodbye, but I think it might be. I needed to tell you how much I regret being so scared, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I love you, Eddie. I should’ve told you when I had the chance.”

The turbulence worsens, and the plane begins a terrifying descent. The noise in the background grows louder and more intense. Eddie’s voice, filled with panic, tries to reach him. “Steve, stay with me! Please!”

But as the plane’s descent becomes more violent, the call goes eerily silent. Steve’s heart pounds in his chest as the only sound now is the relentless, chilling dial tone. Tears stream down his face as he grips the phone tightly.

Elizabeth returns to Steve’s side, her eyes filled with kindness and urgency. She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hold on, Steve. It’s going to be okay, but I need you to fight. For Eddie, okay?”

Steve nods, trying to steady himself amidst the chaos. He closes his eyes, focusing on Eddie’s voice and the love they shared, holding onto the hope that somehow, somehow, he’ll get another chance.

The last thing he hears is the deafening roar of something massive hitting the ground way too fast.

When Steve opens his eyes, he’s immediately overwhelmed by blinding light and searing pain. He groans, wishing for unconsciousness to take him away again so the agony would stop.

“Steve?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice pulls him from the sweet embrace of nothingness. The panic in Eddie’s voice is palpable, as if he’s on the verge of breaking down.

“’ddie?” Steve mumbles, his mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton and his tongue heavy.

“Yes, I’m here, Stevie. I’m here.” Suddenly, Eddie’s beloved face appears above him, his eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Hi, baby.”

Steve manages a smile, the pain momentarily overshadowed by the sight of Eddie’s face. How he’s missed those eyes.

The thought brings Elizabeth back to his mind, the stewardess with the same eyes. Reality crashes back, and Steve gasps with the sudden realization that he should be dead.

“What… happened?” he croaks, his voice barely audible as his strength begins to wane.

“I promise I’ll explain everything, Stevie, but first we need to get your strength back. I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.” Eddie reaches for the call button next to Steve but stops to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was terrified of losing you.”

That’s the last thing Steve hears before darkness pulls him under once more.

The next time Steve wakes up, he feels a bit better. The pain is still there, but it’s dulled by the medication, making it manageable. He’s strong enough to talk more than just a few minutes, and he uses that strength to repeat to Eddie what he had said on the phone during the crash.

Eddie is holding Steve’s hand between his, his tear-streaked cheek resting gently on the back of Steve’s hand. His eyes are still red and puffy, but he speaks with a steady voice that is thick with emotion. “Steve, I could never just walk away from you. I knew you weren’t ready, even though it hurt. I planned to talk to you when I got back to Chicago, to tell you that I would wait for you, as long as I wouldn’t lose you. But when you called and I heard all that screaming… Fuck! I can’t even think about it without wanting to throw up. The crash was bad—most of the front was completely destroyed. It’s a miracle you survived.”

Steve blinks, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. “How… How did I survive?”

Eddie’s gaze is intense as he searches Steve’s eyes. “From what they told me, you were supposed to be seated in the front, but you weren’t. No one could explain why. Your seat was right next to the emergency exit, so they got you out quickly. And you had your seatbelt fastened, which probably kept you from being thrown around too much. It’s almost like fate that you survived. Only twenty-three people made it.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he absorbs Eddie’s words. The thought weighs heavily on his chest: If it hadn’t been for Elizabeth’s warning, he might not have been so lucky. He’s sure she’s the reason he’s still here.

A flicker of concern crosses Steve’s face. “Elizabeth… she was a stewardess on the flight. She moved me to this seat, told me that first class was overbooked and asked if I’d be willing to switch. And she also made sure I fastened my seatbelt just before we started going down.”

Eddie’s eyes grow wide with shock. “But… they said on the news that casualties were below a hundred because first class wasn’t as full as usual. They said no one in that section survived.”

Steve’s heart pounds as he starts to realize the gravity of Elizabeth’s actions. “I need to find out if she survived, Eddie. She saved my life, and I need to thank her.”

Eddie’s eyes brighten with resolve. “We can do that, Stevie. I need to thank this woman, who saved the man I love. What’s her name? I’ll get Chrissy on it—she’ll find out in no time.”

Feeling his love for Eddie surge, Steve lets it overflow for the first time without restraint. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

They share a long, tender look, like lovesick teenagers, before Steve remembers Eddie’s question. “Her name is Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s expression changes abruptly. All color drains from his face.

“What did you say her name is?”

“Elizabeth Quinn. Why, do you know her?”

Ignoring the question, Eddie asks, “What did she look like?”

Steve describes Elizabeth, including her big brown eyes that reminded him of Eddie’s—one reason he bonded with her almost instantly.

As Steve finishes, Eddie looks even paler. Wordlessly, he pulls out his phone, navigates to an article from the airline, and hands it to Steve. The headline reads: “Airline Grieves Loss of Crew Members on Flight 731.” The article features a picture of a stewardess who looks just like Elizabeth. Her name is listed below the photo: Elizabeth Quinn.

Steve’s heart sinks as he reads the name. “That’s her. Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s voice trembles as he looks at Steve. “Elizabeth Quinn was my mom. She was a stewardess, and she died in a plane crash when I was eight.”

Steve’s eyes widen in shock. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I had no idea.”

Eddie’s eyes are glassy as he looks at Steve. “She was the best person I knew. She loved her job and loved helping people. And now it seems she came back to help two more people: me and you.”

Steve reaches out weakly, placing a hand on Eddie’s. “I wish I could have thanked her in person. But I did tell her about you—how funny, smart, and amazing you are. How much I love you. And I should have known, because you look just like her. The same kind eyes and dimples when you smile.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand, his voice breaking. “I’m glad you got to meet her. God, this is so crazy. I was so angry for so long that she left me. I know it’s unfair, but that’s how I felt. I miss her so much.”

“She knew you loved her. She made sure you wouldn’t lose another person you love, because she loves you too. Even if she’s no longer here, she’s still watching over you.”

“Over us, you mean. I’m pretty sure this means you’re part of the family now.”

Eddie still asks Chrissy to check the airline's list for Steve’s savior. He’s not surprised when Chrissy reports that there was no Elizabeth Quinn on that flight.

[unclewaynemunson]

Water was wet. Nights were dark. And Steve Harrington was straight. Those were all facts. Sure, Steve could see what made a man attractive, but that merely meant he wasn't blind, not that he wasn't straight. He loved girls. He loved holding delicate hands, he loved feeling soft curves underneath his fingers, he loved the taste of lipgloss on his lips, legs sticking out of skirts, the sound of high-pitched giggling, elegant feet in high heels...

So yeah, even if he saw what made a man attractive, he was still straight. Even if he could, hypothetically, see himself being attracted to some abstract man in some abstract scenario, he was still straight. He loved girls, so who cared if every now and then, he would turn his head to stare at a strong pair of male arms or a particularly well-shaped male bum? Who cared if, by high exception, he could lose himself in some fantasies of doing certain things with a guy instead of a girl? He loved girls. He would fall in love with a girl, and she with him, and they would get married and have kids, and he would be perfectly happy with that. So he was straight. It was a fact.

Or, well, it was a fact until it wasn't. Until the most mundane afternoon possible happened. Until he was sitting on the steps in front of the Munsons' trailer, with Eddie beside him and a sixpack placed between the two of them. It was one of those early spring days, when birds chirped louder and the sun made all the colors pop out just a little bit more and life was good.

Their beer wasn't cooled properly. Their snacks were very mediocre. They weren't talking about anything remarkable. And yet, they were only one moment away from Steve's whole sense of identity changing irrevocably. They were headed right towards a moment he would remember for the rest of his life.

Maybe deep down, he knew that he had been falling for a while, but he was an expert at ignoring inconvenient things. He had been able to call it friendship, or fascination, or even annoyance when he needed to get creative. So later, whenever someone would ask him when he fell in love with Eddie, he would always go back to this particular moment.

Eddie laughed about some lame joke Steve made and took another sip of his beer. And Steve's senses zeroed in on him like he had just unlocked some higher plane of existence. He noticed everything like he had never done before. The movement of his adam's apple when he swallowed, the curve of his neck, the way his curls cascaded over his shoulders looking as soft as sheep's wool... And, when he tilted his head back and looked at Steve again, the color of his eyes when the sun hit them just right: brown as rosewood and dark chocolate and acorns. As a small piece of autumn undefeated by this early spring day.

He felt an overwhelming urge to clash his lips against Eddie's right there, to feel stubble instead of lipgloss and wrap his arms around someone who was made of sharp edges instead of soft curves, to hold a big hand adorned with rings that were anything but delicate, to hear deep laughter instead of high-pitched giggles, maybe even a low moan against his ear...

It was in that moment that he understood what it really meant to be straight – and that it wasn't what he was.

He understood that it didn't matter how much he loved girls. It didn't exempt him from loving boys, and he couldn't choose who he'd fall in love with like he thought he could. He loved this boy right in front of him, the one who was currently talking a mile a minute and didn't notice a thing about the current drastic renovation of Steve's entire brain chemistry. And if he allowed himself to keep falling, he might just end up loving boys just as much as he loved girls.

---

(idc how overdone the eddie-being-steve's-bi-revelation trope is, you can pry it from my cold dead hands. Here's yet another version of it and yes i will project my own experience on steve, no one can stop me)

[prazinos]

Steve wrote romance novels.

Steve was good at writing romance novels. so much so, that he’s sold millions of copies all over the world, his books being translated into a bunch of different languages.

So when Steve’s latest book comes out, and the love interest is described as having long unruly hair, brown eyes you could get lost in, and a ‘taking no shit from anybody’ personality, Steve’s large fan base started talking about how rockstar Eddie Munson, was what the love interest looked like.

it was largely agreed upon by the fan base, and because of this. Corroded Coffin started blowing up on booktok, and then people started editing Eddie.

Eddie and the rest of CC didn’t mind the extra attention (not that they needed it with nearly thirty million monthly listeners on Spotify). But suddenly everyone was going on about Eddie.

Talking about how attractive he was, his interview clips being posted on tiktok.

And now Steve’s fan base and CC’s fan base start talking about how insane it would be if Steve and Eddie met.

This ordeal goes on for months and months, Steve’s sales skyrocketing.

And then, the met gala rolled around.

Everybody was excited to see what Eddie dressed as, who his plus one would be. Who everyone would be jealous of because they go home with Eddie fucking Munson.

Eddie showed up to the met gala wearing a black suit, red dress shirt, he had a choker on that looked like drops of blood around his neck, a high and dramatic collar turning into a cape.

And who’s his plus one? Steve fucking Harrington.

Steve Harrington, in a cute light blue tux, an expensive looking crown and a matching dramatic collar that turns into a cape (though, not as dramatic as Eddie’s) everybody (rightfully so) freaks the fuck out.

Was this for publicity? Did they do this so that fans would go even more stir crazy?

When they reach the top of the carpet, they walk up to the interviewer who looks like she’s dying to see what’s going on.

“So…how do you two know each other?” she asked

“Stevie here’s my sweetheart, has been for a long time” Eddie grinned

The fans watching are currently freaking out, Steddie trending on twitter

“And so…was Eddie the inspiration for your latest books love interest?”

Steve laughed “Yeah…if im honest half the ways i described the love interest was because of the things i said to my best friend Robin Buckley about Eddie when I had a massive crush on him”

“And who does everybody think Sailor Boy is about? It’s about my sweetheart” Eddie questioned, his arm now resting on Steve’s waist.

They walked off before any more questions could be asked. And now fans were going even more insane,

edits of the two at the met gala blowing up on tiktok, the song Sailor Boy being used as an audio for most.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Written for @steddieangstyaugust, day 6 - "Who did this?" Childhood friends Steddie, delayed because I'm still sick and sleeping most of the time, sorry. I will catch up eventually.

When he was eight years old, someone up there sent Steve Harrington a miracle. It was't flashy, shiny or anything, so it took him a while to recognize that it was indeed a miracle. It came in form of a boy about a year older than him, with a mop of wavy dark hair, large brown eyes and even larger smile - Eddie Munson.

Steve was doing well at that time, or so everyone kept telling him. His parents had the money to buy a big house, get him a babysitter when needed, send him to all the activities he wanted - only they were rarely with him. But that was fine. When you have everything that so many others don't, you can hardly complain about something as mundane as feeling lonely.

God, Steve felt lonely.

He was the rich kid, the one with the "nothing is ever good enough" parents, and that rarely won him any friends. They all expected him to organize parties, to get a bouncy castle for the afternoon, to bring a cake whenever they asked, but it felt like they never really wanted him. Steve found the feeling painfully familiar.

It took one gentle rejection of another set of requests and demands, a suggestion that maybe they could just go and check out the fair that was just unpacking nearby, and everyone lost interest in him, called him cheap. Unpacking meant that it wasn't open yet, and that Steve wouldn't pay for the rides. He was just leaving the playground when he heard a high, loud voice call out to him. "Hey, hey you! Yellow t-shirt! Wait!"

Steve stopped and turned around, glaring at the skinny kid rushing to him. "Yellow t-shirt?" he asked, wondering if he should be insulted.

"Well, duh. I don't know your name yet. I'm new here." The boy stopped in front of him with a wide smile plastered on his face. "But now I will. I'm Eddie, I moved in with my uncle a week ago. You are?"

Steve offered him his hand. "Steve. So, uh..."

Eddie laughed and shook his hand. "Hi, Steve. Now, did these sharp ears hear something about a fair?"

Something lifted in Steve's chest, something he never knew weighed so heavily on him. "Sure did!"

His new friend - only friend - beamed at him. "Then lead the way! "

..

It was after they properly inspected all the attractions that the fair had to offer that Steve noticed a bruise on Eddie's arm. It was pure chance - he and Eddie were swinging on a tree branch and Eddie's sleeve fell back, revealing a nasty bruise. It must have been older, but the size and discoloration were still enough to make Steve concerned.

"Who did this?" he asked, pointing at Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie seemed to freeze mid-swing. He dropped to the ground and pulled the sleeve back. "No one. I fell, I'm clumsy like that." He spoke fast and with that carefree smile, but Steve's gut had a mind of its own.

"Eddie. You don't get bruises like that from falling," he said and despite Eddie's protests, leaned in to examine the injury. He'd seen some like that, on kids whose parents tended to fight a lot, or at least according to his parents, "had a nasty violent streak". He always tried not to stare, but he knew what they meant. "It looks...looks like a punch. Did someone do that to you?"

The smile faltered and Eddie dropped his gaze to the ground. He shuffled around awkwardly on his feet, as if he was deciding whether to run. "Uh...yeah. I mean. It's probably not a secret, it's just that it used to? I mean," he added, noticing the confused look on Steve's face, "my dad tends to get angry a lot when things don't go well. He lost his job, mom left us...so yeah. That's also why I'm here, in a new town, new school...my uncle lives here. I'm staying with him."

"Is he..." wavered Steve, "...is he angry too? Will you be OK?"

If there were any tears in Eddie's eyes, they were gone in an instant. "Wayne? Oh no. He's great. He's a bit scary, but he's so nice. You know, he gave me his own bed. I told him I don't need it, but he didn't care. And he gave me some really cool books! You'll never have to worry about Wayne. Or me. That's a promise."

..

Steve didn't think Eddie meant to lie. "You'll never have to worry about me" sounded wonderful, but it never worked that way with them. And Steve found himself asking Eddie the same question over and over.

"Who did this?" he asked as Eddie came to the school with his head shaved, gently coaxing an answer from Eddie that his classmates thought cutting his hair would be a great prank. "It'll grow back even thicker, just you wait," he snickered, but Steve could see his restless fingers reaching out for the strands that were no longer there.

"Who did this?" he asked as he was helping Eddie fish out his school supplies from the pool. Eddie just laughed it off, saying he'd pissed of a bunch of seniors by not lying to their girlfriends about cheating.

"Who did this?" he asked as he saw Eddie with a black eye and his locker painted over with the word FAGGOT. Eddie shrugged and slammed the locker shut. "It's not like they're wrong," he whispered to Steve. When Steve turned up at his and Wayne's trailer in the evening, Eddie hugged him tight, as if he thought he'd never see Steve again over that admission. As if.

"Who did this?" he asked as he was picking Eddie up after his roleplaying club, Hellfire, and seeing that someone cut Eddie's tires. Eddie just laughed and explained that apparently dragons and adventures were the work of Satan now.

"Who did this?" he asked in marvel as he saw Eddie's first tattoo. It was so crooked and imperfect, but so much like Eddie. When he admitted it was his own work, Steve asked for one of his own.

"Who did this?" he laughed as he kissed Eddie for the first time and found a small braid hidden in his mane of hair. When Eddie admitted he made that one himself, that he gets restless sometimes, Steve asked to teach him. So he could always braid Eddie's hair for him when they eventually moved away together.

But maybe the answers didn't matter.

The answer to "who did this?" didn't matter to the mob that gathered after Chrissy Cunningham's death. They decided they knew already.

"Who did this?" didn't matter when Steve raced to the hospital with badly injured Eddie in his car, the wound on his head bleeding onto Steve's pristine window.

"Who did this?" lost its importance when Wayne and Steve waited for the dreaded news.

And knowing who did it certainly doesn't help Steve now, as he and Wayne are picking up a headstone for Eddie's final resting place.

[cherrychilli]

MDNI, NSFW, AFAB reader, Dilf! Steve, babysitter reader, breeding kink, P in V sex, mentions of pregnancy, age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Steve is in his early 40's)

A/N: Turning this into a wee series. More Dilf! Steve right here

Consider this: Divorced Dilf! Steve who's infatuated with you, the new babysitter. Watching you take care of his kids sends his breeding kink into overdrive and soon enough you're working 'overtime'. He pulls you away and fucks you in the laundry room while the kids are distracted by the TV in the living room. He has one of his palms placed over your mouth, the other gripping your waist as he pounds into you from behind while you're bent over the washing machine. The sound of the running machine helps to drown out your muffled cries but you hear him loud and clear when he leans down to groan against your ear. " 'Bout time you ditched the birth control don't you think, sweetheart?"

You immediately clench around his cock, knees feeling weak as he continues. "You scared of what people might say if they found out that you spread your legs for me?". He pulls you up, your back now flush against his chest, his teeth grazing your neck. "You wouldn't care for very long though would you? you just want me to fill you up- fuck you full. Y'Think I haven't noticed?"

You know exactly what he's insinuating. You wanted a baby of your own. You hadn't expressed it out loud to him but it wasn't a hard guess to make. It showed clearly in the way you loved taking care of his kids and that feeling only deepened when you began to notice the look in his eye whenever you caught him watching you. Spending most of your time there, you liked to image what it would be like to share his home, his bed, a life together. He was nothing short of a devoted father and that only made your attraction to him skyrocket. If he could trust you with his kids it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that he'd trust you with one more, right?

"W-want you to put a baby in me, Steve", you manage to pant out when he removes his hand from your mouth.

You'd only recently begun to call him by his first name in private. You were still getting used to it but you liked the familiarity. 'Mr. Harrington', he decided was far too formal for the girl he'd been railing for over a few months now.

He can feel himself losing it when you talk like that but he maintains a semblance of self control long enough to taunt you. "Bad girl", he chides darkly. "Pretty young thing like you begging to get pregnant. Do you realize what you're asking for?"

If you weren't so cockdrunk right now you might have been able to shoot back a well deserved remark. You were bad? he helped make you that way. He was the one who made you long for the late nights after putting his kids to bed, leading you downstairs so he could eat you out on the couch. Licking and sucking on your swollen clit all while telling you how he couldn't stop thinking about you and your sweet little cunt while he was at the office all day. He was the one who fucked you stupid in the back seat of his car on idle street corners in the middle of the night before dropping you back home after your shift. And he was the one who came inside you minutes before his ex wife was over to pick up the kids, taking too much pleasure in watching you scramble to look presentable as you handed them over to her all while trying to hide that her ex husband's cum was dripping out of you.

"Y'Know how much your body's gonna change if I knocked you up?" he grunted. "You're gonna get big here, obviously" he places his hand over your belly, pressing down on it so he can feel the way his cock's plunging inside you. You choke on a wail. It was already a tight fit but now his cock dragged along your walls with added pressure and pressed against your cervix so hard your eyes were beginning to roll back. "You're gonna be swollen all the time and get really sensitive like right here", his hand glides over your stomach and reaches up to squeeze one of your tits, rolling your perky nipple between his fingers. "These are gonna get so full of milk" he reminds you like the thought of it hadn't already made your pussy gush with fresh arousal. "All because of me. You sure you're ready for all of that?"

"I-I am, I want it so bad", you sob feeling your orgasm approaching fast.

"Wanna make you a daddy again", you manage to whine out before it washed over you.

That did it.

You stopped taking your birth control after that day and used every spare moment you had to let him fuck you around the house, staying over in secret without the kids or his ex wife finding out. It was sordid and blissful and by next month you knew it wouldn't be very much longer until everyone found out as you stared happily at the positive pregnancy test a few days after your period was due.

[monrageo]

Saw a lot of Spider-Steve art so I had to jump in. Most art modernised him but I want my 80s, mallrat, neon lights Spider-Man + I wrote his origin story. *POSES FOUND ON PINTEREST*

Also Steve looks great in the classic red and blue but I wanted him to have his own costume so yellow he shall be. Now onto my headcanons.

In a world where Hawkins is a megapolis a teen boy gets bitten by a radioactive spider in 83’ while visiting Hawkins Lab (Think less abandoned more Oscorp/Alchemax) and so it begins. He starts doing small good things around the city, experimenting with his powers.

But he isn’t thinking about being a superhero or anything close to that (I imagine the drawing with the sweats and goggles is his first “costume”). Then he gets with this amazing girl-Nancy Wheeler.

Life is looking up for Steve he’s got these weird powers that get him to be the basketball and swim team captain. He’s popular, he’s got this amazing girl that inspires him to be better and better.

He looses his popular crowd friends, he wants to be better. He starts thinking about the superhero thing and actually goes through with it. He isn’t shouting it from the rooftops but news is getting around that a guy in spandex is busting criminals- Spider-man/King Spider.

Steve gets cocky, thinks he’s on top of the world, untouchable. Then Will Byers goes missing-that’s a whole separate story. Nancy and John start their investigation. Steve gets jealous etc.

In the end a battle breaks out and Steve is unable to save one person-Barbara Holland. His girlfriend’s best friend. That of course destroys Nancy. She doesn’t know Steve is Spider-man, she seeks comfort in him but things are not the same.

There’s this whole thing with Jonathan, the obvious attraction, the compatibility. But also Steve’s guilt, his self hatred. He realises he was too blindsided by his cockiness. Barb’s death is on his hands. He breaks up with Nancy and solely focuses on being the best Spider-man he can be.

That of course costs him friends etc. but when you’ve been through what he has high school drama just seems pointless… and so King Steve falls from the throne.

I imagine the Nancy story line parallels the Gwen Stacy one in the original comics (without the death and clones), maybe Nancy even blames and hates Spider-man the way Gwen did… that also contributes to the Stancy break-up.

Perhaps Nancy becomes hyper focused on catching this Spider-man so he can be held accountable for Barb’s death.

Anyways now Steddie, I think Eddie would love Spider-man / King Spider he’s some guy with spider powers and bright spandex that helps people, super camp, Eddie would love him.

I think Steve starts noticing Eddie in a new light when his lunch table tirades now also include how awesome spider-man is. This unapologetic support makes the now loser Steve feel like it is all worth it-the stress, the pain, the loneliness-

Tough he of course knows Eddie isn’t talking about him, he’s talking about Spider-man, the hero. Not the former popular guy Steve Harrington.

I have many ideas regarding a Stranger things!Spider-verse and which characters could be what. Maybe Barb’s death was something Lizard-like, but upside down version. Like something from the lap infected her? I like the idea of Steve’s father being involved in the labs, perhaps as a Norman Osborn parallel, without becoming the Goblin though.

The goblin/Norman/Harry Osborn storyline could be reimagined with Tommy perhaps??? Then Venom with Eddie (so perfect) or Billy (a tragic end)??