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#i just think eddie needs steve to tell him he's a good boy sometimes and i'm right
steddielations · 15 days
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nonsexual d/s for sub Eddie week with art here by @ent-is-indecisive
“Eddie, will you please open the door?”
“I ruined it, Steve, I messed everything up.”
“You didn’t ruin anything, baby, let me in, c’mon.”
All the music from the party almost drowns out Steve’s voice, but a small pathetic piece of Eddie clings to it like an anchor. He opens the door and Steve’s brows knit sympathetically at the state of distress Eddie's in. It’s all fucked up.
His leather sleeve is wet and sticky, he can’t stop raking his fingers through his hair, ruining the nice waves Steve styled for him earlier because he was too much of a wreck to do it himself. It’s all fucked up.
“I fucked up.”
Shaking his head, Steve comes inside and shuts the door behind him. “It wasn’t that bad. Could’ve been worse, remember when Robin threw up in the middle of an audition.”
“Steve, at this point they’re gonna pay me not to make an album,” Eddie stresses, pacing around the bathroom. “I spilled wine all over the guy. Dale fucking Grazer wants to talk serious paper and shake my hand and I just emptied my stupid little glass all over him!”
“It was just wine, not puke or something,” Steve says lightly, trying to bring Eddie down from his frantic state. It works, his voice is a tether for Eddie to grab onto. “Come here, let me fix you up.” 
Eddie does as Steve says, not trusting himself to make any more decisions when all he’s done today is fuck up. 
Steve guides him over to the sink, wetting a towel and dabbing Eddie’s jacket. He’s so calm, like this isn’t the most important night in Eddie’s life and it’s not already blown and he can still make that hotshot from the record label like him.
Steve’s acting like everything’s fine, which makes Eddie feel stupid and small like he's overreacting, he tries to let Steve’s energy calm him too but it’s hard.
“You’re overthinking, I can see it on your face,” Steve says, being gentle but not in a coddling way that would make Eddie feel even more stupid.
He straightens out Eddie’s sleeve, good as new, then works on Eddie’s hair next. His fingers are soft and skilled and so sure, knowing exactly how to fix it and how to make Eddie melt under his touch.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, just trying to let Steve fix everything. He's way better at fancy parties and schmoozing than Eddie is. He always knows how to get Eddie out of his head and that’s what he needs right now. As pathetic as he feels about it, he needs to stop thinking. Let Steve think for him, even.
“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Steve prompts softly and Eddie is helpless but to let it all out.
“I can’t stop saying the wrong shit. Why’d I tell him my dad’s in prison? Or bring up the dropped murder charges, or all that stuff about ket, I just can’t shut up.”
“No, that’s just you, the whole big personality charismatic rockstar thing. Trust me, that guy’s got star eyes for you.”
“This is just like with Paige’s label. I messed that up, and now I’m ruining Jeff’s chance again, and—”
“No you’re not, that guy loves Jeff already, everybody loves Jeff.” 
“You’re right, he’s got this, he doesn’t need me. Let’s just get out of here, make a run for it.”
Eddie barely takes a step before Steve’s hands circle both his wrists, his grip gentle but solid, holding Eddie in place. It flips the same little switch in Eddie as the cuffs they use in the bedroom. It takes away the option to run.
Somewhere in the jumble of his mind, he knows it’s the right choice, trusting that Steve wouldn’t let him make the wrong one.
“We’re not going anywhere, baby, this is your chance too.” Steve rubs up and down Eddie’s arms, guiding him around in front of the mirror. 
It’s hard for Eddie to look at himself right now and see it written all over his face. Steve cleaned the stain and made his hair perfect again but he can’t fix whatever’s making Eddie… Well, Eddie. Whatever it is that made him flunk senior year 3 times, or screw up the first chance he had to make something of himself, or the reason Ronnie won’t pick up his phone calls, or the reason Wayne sleeps with his keys on the bedside table in case he has to come running to Eddie’s rescue like always—
Steve’s fingers lightly cup Eddie’s chin, he’s standing behind Eddie now, his body warmly pressed against him.
“Look here, honey.” Steve gently tips Eddie’s head up to meet his own eyes in the mirror. They’re glistening with unshed tears that almost fall when Steve says soft but sure, “You’re not a fuckup,” and prompts Eddie, “Say it.”
Eddie swallows the lump rising in his throat, “I’m not—” 
He chokes up a little bit and Steve waits patiently. 
“Tell yourself,” Steve whispers, all earnest-eyed in the mirror like all he wants is to make Eddie believe it.
“I’m not a… fuckup,” Eddie gets the words out and a few tears slip free with them.
Steve brushes them away. “You can do this. Say it.”
With a deep breath, Eddie tells himself, “I can do this.”
Steve kisses his temple, gives him a little praise that he admittedly needs so much right now, “You’re gonna be so good.”
Eddie’s mind starts to clear of everything that’s not Steve rocking him slowly in his arms, whispering, “You’re my good boy,” as many times as Eddie needs to hear it. He feels his confidence building back up, getting more comfortable in his skin again with Steve holding him, believing the words Steve made him say in the mirror, believing the words Steve kisses into his neck and loves into his skin. He can do this.
“Aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” 
“Tell me,” Steve prompts and Eddie turns a little, blinking slowly, eyes feeling heavy with the slow dose of bliss Steve gave him.
“I’m your good boy,” Eddie murmurs and he believes it.
When they leave the bathroom later, Steve can’t hold his hand through this, but Eddie still feels him.
He charms the fuck out of those suits from the label. They love Jeff, everybody loves Jeff, and they love Eddie too. The whole band is definitely getting signed, at least that’s what Steve says on the ride home.
Eddie greedily soaks up all the praise and attention, feeling a little spacey with it, Steve's big warm hand on his thigh grounding him. He can't wait for them to get home so he can properly thank Steve.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.
He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.
He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.
He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."
He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."
"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"
And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."
For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."
But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."
And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."
Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.
Eddie is ready to run.
But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"
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stevebabey · 1 year
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part one here. ze part two to touch-starved stevie that absolutely no one requested hehe <3 but i gots to let my boys have a wee kiss :")
So, hugs with Eddie become… well, a thing.
Not a thing. They’re not a thing, Steve and Eddie. It’s totally the same as when he gets hugs from Robin. Eddie’s doing him a favour as a friend. It’s got the 100% platonic energy of getting a hug from a friend — a hug that usually melts into some form of a cuddle, limbs all tangled together until they can’t tell whose are whose.
Except, Steve doesn’t really do that second part with Robin. Like he hasn’t done it ever with Robin.
So, it’s an Eddie thing.
But they’re not a thing. Not matter how much Steve would actually very much like for that happen. Okay, maybe Steve’s overthinking the whole thing a bit, but he just can’t tell.
Where’s the line? It’s infuriating not being able to discern between platonic and more, just because Steve wasn’t held enough as a fucking baby. Out of all the things he resents his parents for, Steve’s surprised that this is so near the top.
Because, sure, Steve’s had more than his fair share of hookups. He knows that sort of touch. He knows the shape of lust; the scrapes of fingernails down backs, the tight grips over skin, the push and pull of the heat of the moment.
And this thing with Eddie… is not that.
So, really, Steve knows that it’s all friendly. Eddie is just being nice. He’s being a decent dude and helping his friend out — by catapulting himself into Steve’s arms at every opportune moment.
(Steve’s only dropped 3 mugs of coffee because of this so far. It’s only because Eddie says good catch, big boy with a devilish grin every time that Steve manages to catch Eddie that Steve hasn’t completely told him to knock it off. Just yet, at least.)
And he’s different in other areas. He’ll always seem to choose the seat next to Steve on movie-nights now, content to snuggle right up to him. They get thigh to thigh, arm to arm — and Eddie only needs to get about 20 minutes in for him to do a big sigh, like an old dog, and slump over, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve notices though. He always notices.
It’s impossible not to— the skin, even if there’s 3 layers between them, burns blazing warm. Eddie’s hair drapes over his arm, a curl inevitably tickling along Steve’s collar. He can feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s breathing, the little shake of when he laughs.
It drives Steve a little insane— insane in the way that makes him think about burying his fingers in those curls again, about pressing his lips against Eddie’s pretty mouth just to feel the smile against his skin, about digging into his chest so he can climb into his chest and live there.
Yeah, it’s— well, it’s safe to say that the effect of Eddie’s touchiness has sent what was once a fleeting thought of a crush into mind-melting levels of affection.
But he can’t fucking tell.
-
To Steve’s credit, neither can Eddie.
Which is not surprisingly considering sometimes he catches himself wondering how the hell he ended up here; in a close-knit friendship with band-geek Robin Buckley, princess Nancy Wheeler, and King Steve Harrington.
Okay, the Robin one sort of makes sense. He thinks that if no matter when their paths crossed, he and Robin would’ve always even some sort of strange friends - her snark complimenting his bitchiness. Also, the whole super queer thing helps too. Even the friendship with Nancy works, in its own weird way.
Steve though? He’s the fucking curve ball.
It works though, the two of them. Surprisingly well, actually — the two of them get on like a house on fire, bitchy quips back and forth. Even better, is the quiet that they can share. Steve loves to come around and do… nothing. Do nothing with Eddie, though.
So, even though Eddie had noticed the tension in Steve with touch, little moments where he turned rigid when Eddie’s usual wandering hands got too comfortable — Eddie chalked it up to the usual. Guys bring too uncomfortable with him, too weird about another guy being touchy. It didn’t matter than Eddie wasn’t even out to Steve yet, he was still might be that type of guy.
Well, Eddie had certainly thought so. Sure, Steve might not be one of those jocks who smacked around boys who looked too long in the locker room, but if he knew a smidge of the truth, who really knows. It would explain the tenseness at least.
But then— ‘Can I… have a hug?’ There had been a dozen things Eddie was thinking that Steve could’ve asked for but that? Wasn’t even in the ballpark. It was so left-field it left Eddie speechless for a whole moment. And Steve had been staring at the ceiling, his hands curled up tight again like- like he thought Eddie might say no.
A ridiculous thought, honestly. Anyone who knew Eddie well enough knew he was touchy; loved giving it, loved getting it. Like an overly affectionate cat, Wayne had once called him, just 11 years old, because Eddie’s need for affection seem to never be sated.
After that night, Steve’s lack of touch became far more obvious. It’s always hair ruffles or high-fives, yet never hugs. Normally, Eddie would keep to that boundary; some people are less touchy other than others, he knows that.
But… “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile, since I’ve had some touch.” That’s what Steve had said, his words. Eddie doesn’t even think he meant to say something so heartbreaking. In fact, the guy seemed embarrassed.
It had thrown Eddie for a loop— because Steve gets around. He’s nearly notorious for one-night stands and failed flings, as Robin loves to drone on about considering she’s subjected to all the flirting. What had originally been a point of envy for Eddie, just saturates the bleakness of Steve’s words. Sex but without a moment of intimacy.
So, while Eddie is miles away from being the person who gets into Steve’s pants — not for lack of want, mind you — he does try hike up the touchiness. Little things. Lingering when he taps him on the arm, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder to peer over it, leaning up against him when they’re side by side watching a film.
It’s good. It helps Eddie release the pressure of his stupid monumental god-awful crush he has. Yeah, yeah, it’s laughable, even to Eddie. It’s like Gay 101; don’t get crush on straight dudes, especially the ones you’re friends with. And yet…
Steve lets him. He lets Eddie give him touch, more than he lets anyone else. He still tenses; there’s still always a moment before he can remember to relax, like he’s trying to shake off bad thoughts but then he melts. He always melts into Eddie’s touch eventually — in a way Eddie knows Steve actually loves it, drinks it up as much as he can.
And maybe, Eddie is the biggest fool to grace the Earth to let that fact give him some hope. Sue his gooey heart, he’s a romantic. It’s a quiet hope but, it’s there.
Tonight, it seems relaxing for Steve is been harder than usual— several times has Eddie traced a quite long along Steve’s arms, a subtle point that they were far too tense for someone who was wrapped up in cuddles on the couch. ‘Cos that’s 100% what they are now. Eddie will still call them hugs, but usually, when it’s just the two of them, it becomes this.
Steve, tucked up into the corner of the couch, one leg flush along the back of the couch and one hanging off the edge. It’s the prime position for Eddie to crawl up, wind his arms around Steve’s middle and give him a good squeeze and then settle there. Head on Steve’s chest, lying in the cradle of his hips. Safe. Warm.
It makes him warm, oh very warm to know that he gets this. That Steve doesn’t give this amount of trust to many, if any, other people but Eddie — he trusts Eddie.
“Y’know,” Eddie says, cheeks smushed against the plain of Steve’s pec. It feels deliciously warm and Eddie’s fairly sure he can feel how toned it is just through his cheek. Hot bastard. “I’m actually real glad you asked for that hug all those weeks ago.”
He leaves it there ‘cos he knows Steve will ask. Eddie’s eyes stay on the buzzing tv-screen even as Steve’s head shifts, turning to peer down at the boy slumped on his chest. Eddie’s pretty sure he can see Steve’s mouth twitch up into a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie affirms, giving a nod and his eyes flick up to meet Steve’s for just a moment. “Think I’ve had some of the best hugs in the world.”
Okay, that was maybe more honest and sappy than Eddie was going for. He is just letting Steve know he isn’t just doing it for Steve — that he enjoys these moments just as much. He lays it on thick, tries for a smarmy angle.
“Swept up in these pillowy arms?” He croons, giving Steve’s bicep a quick squeeze, making the other chuckle softly. “Who wouldn’t think so? I’m a lucky guy.”
Despite the joking tone, there’s no quick comeback from Steve. That’s alright. Eddie’s quite happy if this is one of the times Steve just takes the compliment; let’s the word sink in and hopefully, believes them, even if it’s just a little bit. He watches the film and doesn’t read into the silence.
Not even when Steve says, “Eddie?” all soft. Nearly shy sounding. It doesn’t quite register to Eddie’s ears.
“Mm?”
“Eddie.” Steve says again, a little firmer and that catches Eddie’s attention. He turns his head and rests his chin on Steve’s chest, his brows drawn together in silent question.
But the moment he makes eye contact, Steve’s doing that scrunched up face again. Is studying the ceiling instead of facing Eddie. And just like all those weeks ago, his hands clench up tight. Twists up the fabric of Eddie’s sweater in between his fingers and uses it to ground himself.
Last time, he asked for a hug. Considering he’s currently just about squishing Steve beneath his body weight, Eddie can’t fathom what he might be worked up to ask for. Unless he was going to ask for something more than a hug— which, well, just wasn’t going to happen, even if Eddie really wanted it to.
“Can I-” Steve starts. He sucks in a breath, almost like he’s gathering courage. But he’s not, because he’s not about to ask for what Eddie hopes for, he’s not, he’s—
Unless…?
“Can I… have a kiss?” Steve asks, barely audible. The sentence is murmured, soft words that hit Eddie like a gentle kiss in itself — imprinting right onto his heart. Steve Harrington wants a kiss — from him!
“Oh.” Eddie says, in a breathy delightful way. He’s fairly certain the little monkey in his brain is clapping its cymbals at double-speed as the words process; or maybe it’s his heart, which feels like it’s leapt up his throat.
“Oh?” Steve echoes, a smile already playing at the edges of his mouth, because he can see Eddie’s want. Because he knows him.
“Yes.” Eddie says suddenly, with a frantic nod, pushing up closer so their faces are aligned. “Yes, absolutely, you can.” He affirms.
Steve huffs a quiet laugh at the eagerness and then his arm that had been slung around Eddie shifts. It moves up til his hand caresses along the line of Eddie’s jaw, tilting him just how he likes.
Eddie holds his breath. Counts the freckles he can see this close. Tries to feel Steve’s heartbeat through where they’re pressed so closely together; can Steve feel his? Thundering and hurried, beating so hard Eddie thinks he might bruise the inside of his ribs.
Then Steve kisses him. And shit, Steve’s lip are better by ten-fold than every daydream Eddie’s ever had about them. They’re warm and so soft — plush and pressing against his own and Eddie is freezing. Fuck, wait, how does this go again? Right, Eddie’s never… well, kissed anybody before.
Steve pulls back and Eddie screws his eyes up — not ready in the slightest for the disappointment of his own shoddy kissing skills. Fuck, did he really just freeze? Steve — Steve Harrington — asks for a kiss and Eddie decides to stab himself in the back by not figuring out how to fuck to kiss back.
“You call that a kiss?” Steve teases and Eddie’s well aware of the parallel — of the irony of Steve repeating his own words back at him. But he can’t make himself laugh even though it’s funny. Instead, a little groan wiggles out his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, earnest. He forces his eyes opens — he needs to see what’s Steve’s thinking. Where he’s expecting disappointment or perhaps regret, is only patience. Maybe a touch of concern. Eddie continues, despite the humiliation that makes his throat sticky.
“I haven’t- I don’t do this often.” He coughs awkwardly clearing his throat and hoping it hides the next word. “Ever.”
There’s a jump in Steve’s eyebrows, a moment of surprise in his eyes that lets him know he did, indeed, hear that final word. It makes Eddie feel… well, it’s nice that Steve had expected him to have been kissed by now. Even if he hasn’t. He tries to take it as a compliment.
“That’s okay,” Steve assures. Absentmindedly, his thumb rubs soothing along Eddie’s jaw. It makes Eddie shiver, some outrageous amount of joy clawing into every nerve. Steve likes Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie.
“Do you want to try again?”
Eddie nods before the questions even out of his mouth. Steve smiles, all sunshine. This time when he draws Eddie in, he notices the way Eddie holds his breath — the rigidness in his body.
Steve kisses him again, another short and soft one and then whispers against his lips, “Relax.”
‘Cos isn’t tonight just full of the parallels, Eddie thinks. He listens, tries to focus on how sweet Steve’s kiss is than his panicky heart, forcing out a breath between the kisses. His hands along Steve’s sides find a grip, grounding and good, and by the fourth kiss, he begins to feel a bit melty.
It’s good. It’s really good. Kissing Steve is top 5– nay, the top moment of his life so far. Somehow, it’s made all that much better knowing the build-up behind it. Knowing that Steve knows he isn’t just kissing him for a heat of the moment — that Eddie wants kisses here, kisses before bed, in the morning, on dates. Eddie wants Steve.
And with the way he kisses, Eddie’s pretty sure Steve wants him just as bad.
It doesn’t take long for Steve to reach what Eddie decides is an ultra pretty fuckin’ state; lips swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed up. He bets he looks no better. The thought makes him grin, enough they have to break the kiss ‘cos Eddie can’t stop his stupid happy grin ‘cos shit— he actually gets to have this Steve.
“What?” Steve asks, somehow half heart-eyed and half suspicious at the mischief in Eddie’s eyes.
“Can I... have a hickie?”
now with a part three !
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unclewaynemunson · 6 months
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Pt2 to this post
'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.
It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.
Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'
'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'
Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.
'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'
'What happened?'
He sighs. 'It's complicated.'
'Wanna tell me about it?'
The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.
But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.
He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.
'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.
Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.
'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'
'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.
Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.
'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'
Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.
'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.
'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'
She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'
'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'
She nods. 'Okay.'
For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.
'Is it Eddie?'
Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.
'Wha- what?'
'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'
'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.
Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'
Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'
'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'
'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'
Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'
To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.
'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'
'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'
'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'
'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.
Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)
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hairmetal666 · 9 months
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Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.
For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.
He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.
The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.
It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"
In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."
Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.
Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.
Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.
Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.
They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."
How can Eddie say no?
Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.
The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.
The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.
It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"
Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.
He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.
Eddie needs a break.
He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.
His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.
The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.
It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.
The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.
His eyes meet Steve's.
Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.
Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.
They're nothing to each other.
Never were.
By popular request: Part Two
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Bad News First, Eddie
Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part
"Bad news first, Eddie," Steve sighs as he leans back on his heels, cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "They vandalized your headstone again. Good news, I beat Wayne out here so he won't be seeing it."
It's been over a year since they'd had to leave Eddie behind. He'd been cleared of the murders. That had been the easy part, since the Upside Down had exploded out into the Rightside Up. When Vecna started killing people it had been pretty easy for people to realize Eddie was just another victim.
Or so Steve had thought.
Eleven saved them all, the people of Hawkins knew the truth, yet Steve still found graffiti on Eddie's grave.
Eddie's grave is empty, because Eddie's body hadn't been recovered. Too much had happened, no time to mount an expedition to retrieve it, and the gates were closed. Another regret Steve lives with.
Like not taking Eddie's face between his hands and looking him dead in the eye when he told them not to be heroes.
Late at night, Steve sometimes imagines he did just that. Looked him dead in the eyes and said, "there is no shame in running, in living to see another day. Don't be a hero because I need you to be okay tomorrow."
Robin says it's not good for his mental health, these what-if scenarios, but so what?
Steve isn't sure what started it but coming out here to talk to Eddie seems to help him clear his thoughts. He always starts with the bad news, Eddie's voice in the back of his mind. Bad news first, always.
The first time Wayne had caught him out here, Wayne thought he was vandalizing. Had scared Steve half to death being yanked back violently by his upper arm. It didn't take Wayne long for his eyes to process that Steve wasn't holding paint.
"You know my boy?" Wayne always spoke in the present tense about Eddie.
"Not as well as I would have liked, sir," Steve swallowed thickly. It was the start of a friendship, of sorts. Wayne seemed happy to have someone to tell stories about Eddie to, and Steve was happy to learn about Eddie.
Months pass and Steve goes every week.
"Bad news. The new guitarist is mediocre at best. Good news. Corroded Coffin lives on and they finally got a new guitarist."
"Bad news. Robin will not shut up about Vickie. Good news. Robin got that date she wanted."
"Bad news. Wayne had an accident at the plant. Good news, he's okay. I think... this might be weird to you, but I've convinced him to move in, at least until he's healed fully so he's not alone. He's staying in the downstairs guest room. Not that you know where that is. You've never even been to my house... bad news, you've never been to my house. Good news, I really wish you had."
So it goes. Wayne Munson moves in and never moves out. Steve's parents call once, to ask if he wants the house. Steve says yes.
Shortly after, Robin takes a room upstairs. Says she gonna take a year off school before college. The Party moves their dnd games to Steve's giant dining room table. His house is always full but part of Steve feels empty.
"B-bad news," Steve forces the words out around the lump in his throat, "I found out too late. Good news, I'm bisexual. Bad news, good news? I don't know man, the news is I could have loved you. I think I do, but that's the you Wayne and the kids tell me about, so who is to say really."
So it goes.
"Bad news. They're seniors this year, Eds. Seniors! Robin going away to college was bad enough. I don't know if I'll even know how to function when they do. 'Cause they're gonna, you know? They're smart. Too smart to stay in this town," Steve is crying, can feel the tears falling, but doesn't stop them. "I know I should go, too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But I can't leave. Wayne's here. You're here. And if I go, who will look after either of you?"
"Bad news. College acceptance letters have come in. They're not even graduated yet. This should be good news, but, heh, friends don't lie."
"Bad news, Eds. I can't remember your voice. I didn't think.... I feel like I remember it but I can't hear it. I want to hear it. I-i need-" Steve doesn't know what he needs, doesn't know how to end that sentence so he just sobs, fingers burying themselves into the dirt of an empty grave.
Wayne gets a phone call one day and says he's gotta go back to Tennessee. Eddie's father -that rocks Steve because while he knows Wayne was Eddie's uncle, he never connected that a father was somewhere out there- Eddie's father, Wayne's younger brother, needs him.
Steve drives Wayne to the airport in Indianapolis. Wayne promises he'll return but Steve won't hold him to that. This is family, and as much as Steve pretends, he isn't Wayne's nephew. Isn't Wayne's family.
As Wayne disappears onto his flight, Steve is left hollow. There's no one left in Hawkins that needs him.
"Bad news, Eds. I think I'm a danger to myself. I keep having these thoughts... like how easy it would be to drive my car into the quarry. Or just slip into the pool and take a deep breath. I don't know who I am, or how to be me, without someone needing me."
Wayne calls and tells him he's coming home. Bringing a guest if that's ok. Steve says okay because he needs to meet the man who taught Eddie how to hot wire a car but not play catch. Also, he hopes to hear Eddie in his voice when they speak.
"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."
And then, a miracle happens.
"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom."
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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months
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eddie in the middle of Steve and reader sandwich
I need that boy to get pampered, loved on, and fucked until he's absolutely seeing stars
he's got big Stevie behind him in his hole and reader under him on his dick and there's so many hands and so many mouths and so much praise and there's just nowhere for him to go because when he pulls back, he's only pushing Steve in deeper and if he leans forward, he's sliding deep into reader and it's so overwhelmingly delicious that his head gets all fuzzy like when he smokes but he's perfectly sober
anon when I tell u this has been living in my mind rent-free for days on end...... have a blurb as a treat
+18 mdni
he's lost in it, you can tell.
Eddie gets this glassy, blissed-out look sometimes during sex- most often spotted when you and Steve team up to give Eddie your collective focus.
as luck, practice, and stamina would have it, you and Steve make a stellar team.
Eddie can't do much more than brace his arms against the mattress, the sharp snap of Steve's hips rocking them both forward as Eddie pants into your mouth.
"f-fuck, Steve, fuck me-" his voice is wrecked, partly from the strain of tamping down his orgasm, partly from the cock that was down his throat earlier.
"what do you think I'm doing," Steve quips, driving his hips forward again, golden torso on display from the little you can see around Eddie's shoulder. Steve catches your gaze and winks, cheekily, even through the haze of flush-pink crawling up his neck (a sure sign of his impending release).
Eddie's forearms frame your head, his nose nudging yours with the close proximity. you can hear every little moan that leaves his kiss-bitten lips, see every minute detail of his facial expressions as they shift and change.
it's why you and Steve make such a good team, when you're like this- Steve relies on you and sound alone to relay Eddie's reactions, and in turn, makes you both feel really good.
maybe, this time, a bit too good; Eddie's making these keening noises like he's been punched- not an unusual occurrence on its own, but his eyes are squeezed shut so tight under his dark brows that it kind of worries you.
"hey-" in a room of slick noises and jagged gasps, your voice is a soft, honeyed thing, and Eddie's eyes pop open- half-lidded but you'll take it- as you slide your hands up his sides to cradle his face. "you okay? want me to tell big mean Stevie to take it easy on you?"
the moment you'd spoken Steve had stilled his movements, loosening his grip on the pale, lithe hips in front of him to stroke a soft palm down Eddie's back instead. he scoffs above you both now at that comment, muttering something about Eddie liking it big and mean.
you ignore Steve for the time being, pretending like it's just you and Eddie, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead to give him some relief from the heat that seemed to roil off all of you. "take a deep breath for me, baby. y'wanna stop?"
Eddie obeys, drawing in a shuddering breath before pressing his sticky forehead to your bare collarbone, shaking his head against you as garbled words spill out- "no, please, no, wanna keep going, gonna be so good for you, please, honey..."
"sounds pretty when he begs," Steve comments, the tautness in his frame and voice betraying his feigned casualness.
you shoot him a look, one hand threaded in Eddie's hair as he muffles his whines into your skin- a look that means play nice or else. Steve heaves a dramatic sigh before leaning to cover Eddie's upper shoulders in kisses.
"c'mon, Eds," he murmurs, teeth snagging behind the shell of Eddie's ear, voice low and coaxing, "gotta show our girl a good time, right?"
you feel the effect Steve has on the dark-haired boy, Eddie's cock buried deep within you kicking up, which makes you moan, which in turn makes Eddie moan and clench around Steve...
there's a moment of stilted resettling; Steve slips a warm hand under your knee to push your leg up and out, giving you all a bit more breathing room, while Eddie pushes his upper half up again on shaky arms.
Steve eases himself forward, tongue poking out in concentration, grinning victorious when this new angle pulls a low groan from Eddie.
you're worried he's going to zone out again, but one of his hands leaves the mattress to snake between your bodies, thumb catching at your aching clit.
it's your turn to close your eyes, a mounting wave of pleasure thrumming between your legs; distantly, you hear Steve chuckle and instruct Eddie to do it again.
he obeys, like he always does- though this time when his thumb circles that bundle of nerves, he sucks your nipple into his mouth in a tandem move that has your back arching off the bed.
"jesus- fuck- fucking... don't stop, Eds, please..."
and in a tone far too smug for someone with a dick up his ass, Eddie releases your breast with a wet pop to tease, "now who's begging?"
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apomaro-mellow · 1 year
Text
"Okay, be straight with me."
Steve leveled a look and Eddie almost swooned but he kept it together. This was serious.
"Right, okay, be bisexual with me."
"Eddie, we're in public", Steve said, mock-scandalized.
"I'm starting to regret becoming a level 5 friend of yours Harrington." Dustin had said Steve could get silly and goofy. Of course Eddie didn't believe it. Not until he had seen it. Not until he had seen that secret handshake of theirs and seen him pump his fist in victory when he beat Erica at rock, paper, scissors, and when he'd seen him-
"Did you have something to say, or...?"
"Yeah! Okay, so, what I wanted to ask waaaas, did you ever, you know, look at any guys?" Eddie cleared his throat and continued when Steve looked at him blankly. "Sinfully?"
The location for this conversation could either be really good or really bad. In the McDonald's parking lot on a late afternoon. Steve just got off from a relatively short shift and wanted lunch. Eddie was wasting time until Hellfire that night. Of course they were eating in Eddie's van. Not a single crumb graced Steve's car.
"I mean, I guess I did", Steve shrugged. "Before I really understood what I was feeling. Honestly it felt like I just hated guys for no reason."
Eddie nodded in understanding. Before realizing what all those slurs meant, he definitely felt like some dudes were attractive in a way just to spite him. Then he came to realize he didn't want to punch them, but to do...well other things with his hands.
"Soooo, you ever have a crush?"
Steve let out a bark of laughter so loud it startled Eddie.
"What are you serious?"
"I-yes? What? Is it so ridiculous?"
"Eddie I-", Steve cut himself off and looked him in the eyes. "You asked me that question and you really don't know?"
"Is it a sensitive topic?" Eddie went on ahead and stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth before he stuck his foot in it.
"No, it's just, you of all people asking me that." Steve put a hand to his mouth and looked out the window and Eddie felt like he was missing something.
"So was there ever anyone?"
Steve turned back towards him. "Was...and is."
"Well shit, don't leave me hangin'."
"Are we doing girl talk or something now?", Steve grinned.
"I know for a fact you and Bucks talk about the girls she likes. Why can't you talk to a fellow queer about boys?"
"I've talked to Argyle and Jonathan about it", Steve shrugged.
Now that got Eddie raring. Jonathan he could understand. But he just met Argyle!
"Okay, you gotta tell me. It can be either the 'was' or the 'is' but I need to know who caught the eye of the Hair."
Steve laughed again, this time bending over. "Eye of the Hair sounds like one of your dungeon things."
"Don't try and distract me with DnD, Steve. Spill."
"Okay, okay. Let's talk about this is."
Eddie was torn. On the one hand, he really did want to know who Steve was crushing on. On the other hand, if he knew the dude what was stopping him from going over to his house and busting his nose?
"So, he's our age. Went to Hawkins High-"
"Wow that really narrows it down."
"He and I were in different cliques. Didn't hang out a lot until he started hangin around my kids."
Eddie let out a snort. "You do remember you didn't actually birth a gaggle of children, right?"
"You wanna hear this or not?"
"Continue."
"Anyway, he's a nerd. Like a huuuge nerd. Like sometimes I can't even believe I like him, but then he...I mean I....it's not like I like him despite his nerdiness. I like that part of him too now."
Eddie began listing the choices. Someone from school, who hung out with the kids? Recent? That could be someone from Hellfire. Kind of think of it, Steve and Jeff have been talking a lot more recently. It was just here or there when Steve was dropping off or picking up kids from meetings but still...
"Can I get a description?"
"What are you? The cops?"
"How dare you!"
"He's got dark hair and dark eyes", Steve conceded with a roll of his eyes.
Fuck it could be Jeff. Okay, okay, he could be supportive. Jeff was a good guy. A great guy. And Jeff would be a lucky son of a bitch to get Steve.
"Son of a bitch", he murmured.
"Hm?"
"Son of a witch, nerd thing", Eddie waved off. "I think you should be able to trust me with his name. I could even maybe hook you two up if I just so happen to know him~"
"You'd hook me up with some guy?", Steve asked.
"I know right, I'm so generous." And maybe if Jeff blew his chance with Steve, he could be there to pick up the pieces. No! Bad Munson! Bad thoughts. Jeff would never hurt Steve and he shouldn't hope for it. But what if it wasn't Jeff?
What if it was some other geek he didn't know? The freshies were into science too. What if it was that chemistry dork Howard?
"Actually, I think I really do need to know who this guy is. Need to be sure he's good enough for you."
Steve smiled in a way that rivaled the sun and Eddie truly felt like a knight in shining armor. He'd protect his princess from any undeserving mouthbreather.
"I think he's more than worthy. And I hope you would agree", Steve said.
"I'll know for sure once I see him." Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, already formulating ideas to make this dude wet his pants. "So tell me more about him."
"Okay, we knew of each other for a while, but the first time we officially talked, he attacked me."
"Red flag. No go."
"In his defense, he was on the run from the law", Steve added quickly.
"A criminal? Second red flag."
"Allegedly. And that's big talk comin' from a drug dealer."
"Who you partake with", Eddie reminded him.
"I do. But it's a little less than legal what you do. As is several things both of us have done. I don't think either of us has a high horse to look down on."
Eddie hemmed and hawed before letting out a sigh. "Alright, we'll call that a yellow flag for now. What else?"
"He's just...so different from anyone else I've ever been into, Eds. I'm really into him. Like an embarrassing amount." And now Steve was blushing and Eddie felt jealousy boil in his gut. But he also felt happy that Steve was happy. He could take solace in that. Even if he wanted to deck this guy on principle.
"Do you know if he's like us?"
"Oh, I know", Steve said, putting his elbow on the rest between them and leaning in close. "Wanna know more?"
And fuck his masochistic heart, he did. What could this guy have that he didn't?
After Eddie nodded, Steve continued. "He's larger than life, honestly. In a way I thought I used to be but he's the genuine real deal. He can be kind of a jerk, but it's clear when he cares. And that mouth-"
"Okay! Please stop torturing me and tell me who this guy is so I can decide if I hate him or not!"
Steve was laughing again and as beautiful as it was, Eddie felt like a joke himself.
"If you're gonna start hating yourself then we've got a problem", Steve said.
Eddie jerked around like he was short circuiting as all the pieces came into place. High school, nerd, with the kids, attacked him, running from the law.
"You! You are unbelievable, you know that?"
"That's a new one", Steve was still grinning. "So are you gonna kiss me now? Or are you not worthy?"
They were in a parking lot. In broad daylight. This could be bad. But Eddie was a weak, weak man and his dream boy was asking for a kiss. So he leaned in and obliged. Son of a bitch he was the son of a bitch that caught Steve's eye.
"Well?", Steve asked when they pulled away. "What do you think of the guy I like?"
"I still think you could do better."
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 5 months
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Anyone who calls Steve Harrington a cunt gets the receiving end of his left and right hooks. Their names are Dustin and Robin. Steve dies? They die. Someone calls Steve a name? That someone gets their ass kicked. Dustin and Robin meet up once a week to discuss Steve’s love life. Sometimes, they hold a meeting right in front of Steve. I like to think that Robin let Dustin in on the fact that she's a lesbian. It was Dustin who came up with the idea, after Vecna, that Steve likes Eddie. Steve would open his mouth to say that he likes girls when Robin beat him to the punch.
"Okay, but Steve likes women," Robin said.
"Okay, it's possible for you to be a lesbian, but can't Steve like both?" Dustin asked.
"Steve is right here!" He would yell, and they would just ignore him.
"Okay, it's called being bisexual," Robin said.
"Wait, it's a real thing?" Steve asked with wide eyes. "You can actually do that?"
"Yes, dingus," Robin said, rolling her eyes.
Meanwhile, Robin started arguing with Dustin about whether or not Steve was bisexual. Steve was sitting quietly now as he actually had a full-blown crisis.
"Guy? Guys?! GUYS?!" Steve asked.
"What?!" Dustin and Robin exclaimed.
"I think that Dustin's right. I think I like Eddie," Steve said softly.
"I'm right? I mean, I'm right?! I'm right!" Dustin exclaimed with a grin.
"Dustin," Robin snapped and turned to Steve. "Are you okay with this?"
"Yeah, suddenly, everything makes sense now?" Steve grinned. "Holy shit! Robin, guess what?"
"What?"
"I'm bisexual!" Steve laughed and then he stopped. "Oh, shit, I like a boy. What do I do?"
"You ask him out," Dustin said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"As if it's so simple," Steve said.
"Ha!" Robin exclaimed gleefully.
"Okay! New plan: Operation Find out if Eddie likes guys without pushing him into outing himself is a go," Dustin said.
"There's gotta be a better way to say that," Robin said.
Dustin frowned thoughtfully, and then he grinned, clapping his hands.
"Operation: Discovery!" Dustin exclaimed.
"It still needs work," Steve shrugged. "It'll do."
Was Eddie outside Steve’s door prepared to knock when he heard all that? Definitely. He was prepared to tell Steve all about his feelings when he overheard them. They were all rather loud. They all sounded so excited about their little mission that Eddie wanted them to give them the opportunity to work on it a bit. Plus, he loved a good quest. Meanwhile, he was going to search for the person who called Steve a cunt. Eddie flipped the switchblade out of his pocket and whistled as he skipped to his van.
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munsonkitten · 10 months
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They say it’s for his own good. Because he’s dangerous. But Steve doesn’t feel any more dangerous than he did before this whole mess. Like, seriously, he could kill literal monsters with nothing more than a bat covered in rusty nails. He doesn’t feel any more dangerous now than he did when he hit Billy Hargrove with a fucking car or when he held back in all the fights he’s ever lost. Because he could kill fucking monsters. He wasn’t gonna find out if he was capable of killing teenage boys too.
He sees Eddie sometimes.
Eddie looks dangerous, but then he always has. Even if he never was. He always had that look to him, with his leather and chains and heavy boots. Dangerous in a good way.
Now he looks bloodthirsty.
Well, ha, Steve thinks. That’s because he is.
Steve is too, but he doesn’t think that’s grounds for imprisonment. He doesn’t think that’s grounds for being held hostage in the newly reopened and renovated Hawkins Lab.
They say it’s because he’s dangerous, but if that’s the case then they should’ve locked him up years ago. They should’ve seen what was wrong with him back when he was that asshole popular kid at Hawkins High.
Every time he sees Eddie these days it’s when they’re being shoved down hallways. They have Eddie in a mask to prevent biting. Some clear plastic thing that shows his snarling face as he’s pushed. His teeth are sharp and pointed, and he has this wild look in his eyes. There’s blood inside the mask more often than not. Whether it’s someone else’s every time, or if it’s Eddie’s, Steve never really knows. A mix of both, most likely.
They make eye contact and Steve tries to tell him they’ll get out of this mess, and Eddie looks back at him like he wants to believe him, but just can’t.
Steve doesn’t blame him. He’s lost track of how long they’ve been here. He stopped counting after six months, after the lines he carved into his wall with a sharp fingernail — talon, really — became too numerous to hide behind the one pin-up girl poster they gave him for good behavior after the second week.
Weird reward, if you ask Steve. The orderly that put it up for him smirked, said something about tissues in the cabinet in the corner of his room, and then left without another word.
Really fucking weird.
The head scientist comes into Steve’s room. Steve can’t remember his name. Matthews or Mathson or… Something. Doesn’t matter. Not like Steve really needs to know. He’s just called The Doctor and that’s that.
“According to our records, today’s a very special day, indeed. Happy birthday, Steven,” he says, looking down at Steve’s chart.
So it’s February fourteenth… But —
“How old am I?” Steve asks.
“Twenty-two,” the doctor answers.
Twenty two… Which means it’s 1988. Steve’s been here over a year and a half, since June ‘86 when they took him in the dead of night. Things had been weird before that. He’d been having cravings, and Eddie came back from the dead, clawed his way out of the Upside Down all by himself. He came back different, but still the same Eddie that Steve had mourned.
Twenty two years old and he doesn’t even remember turning twenty one.
“Since it’s your birthday,” the doctor continues. “We decided you deserve a reward for being so cooperative during your stay. Something you choose yourself, anything you want — within reason, mind you. Don’t ask to get out of here because that won't be happening. But if we can get it for you, it’s yours to keep.”
“Eddie,” Steve blurts out. “I want Eddie. I want him moved into my cell permanently. Get us bunk beds or some shit.”
“Ah, yes, well,” the doctor sighs. “Mr Munson is quite….”
“Dangerous? Insane? I can keep him in check,” Steve says quickly. “Look, we were friends before all of this and now we’re in the same boat. I understand him. If you want to get through to him, do this for me and I can help.”
None of that is true, of course. He’s not gonna make Eddie do shit, and he really doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. He’s wild, a little more monster than Steve is. It probably has something to do with being stuck in the Upside Down after he died. Different, but still Eddie.
Steve doesn’t blame him for the trouble he’s been causing. He’s seen it firsthand only a couple of times, but sometimes his doctors go missing and never come back. Sometimes they’re covered in blood when they come to see him after being with Eddie.
It’s not hard to guess what happens there.
“We’ll try it,” the doctor says. “But I can’t imagine why that’s what you want.”
He writes something down on his clipboard, clicks his pen with a sigh, and stands.
“I will see what we can do.”
And then he‘s gone.
Steve waits two days. Two days where no one comes to see him, to poke him with needles or flash lights in his eyes. He’s delivered his meals through the slot in his door, but that’s all that happens. He drinks the blood they give him. Animal today, he knows. They switch it up on him, and he’s found he can tell the difference easily now. It’s not the same as human, but it does the job.
It keeps him alive. It keeps him from wanting to tear himself limb from limb because of hunger and thirst. There’s still an itch in his throat and a nagging in the back of his mind saying he’s not satisfied, but it’s better than nothing.
On the second day, he’s told to stand against the back wall, and he complies easily. Complying means rewards — it means he doesn’t get hurt. The first few days he was here he was uncooperative and they beat him. It was too much like being in the Russian bunker beneath Starcourt again.
So he stopped fighting back. He stopped spitting and hissing, he stopped trying to sink his teeth into anything he could reach. And in turn he got rewards. He’s given more time outside his room, more time to sit in a room with a rainbow around the walls and a bunch of old children’s toys.
He knows he’s at Hawkins Lab. He can feel it, can feel something in the back of his head that tells him his family is close. His real family — Robin and Nancy and Dustin and everyone else. He knows he’s in Hawkins Lab and he can’t help but wonder if El lived in the same room as him, if she pushed around the same Hot Wheels car he does when he’s bored.
He stands in his room now, and it’s really a cell, but he doesn’t like to call it that, and he watches as two men carry his bed out. Two more come in with bunk beds that look like two of the regular beds welded together — thin metal frames with thin mattresses. Straight out of a prison.
The doctor comes into the room and he’s carrying a box in his arms. Steve can’t see what’s inside it, but he thinks they might be the few personal belongings Eddie has. The box gets set on the bottom bunk. An orderly comes in with a pile of extra blankets and two pillows. Those get set on the beds, too.
They all leave without a word, but Steve knows he won’t be alone for much longer. He knows that they’re going to get Eddie to him, and soon enough, they’re both going to be able to escape. Together.
Steve doesn’t know how long he sits there on the bottom bunk, but it’s a while. He only spares a single glance into the box, and he sees a spare hospital gown, and some clean underwear inside it. There’s a book sitting on top, tattered and splattered with blood. At least Eddie has that, Steve supposes.
The heavy metal door to Steve’s room opens and Eddie is shoved in, snarling and snapping at the guard behind him, holding his hands in shackles behind his back. They have heavy wool mittens on him, his plastic mask covering the bottom half of his face. Steve’s surprised they don’t just put him in a straitjacket and throw him into a padded room.
They make eye contact, Eddie’s formerly chocolate brown eyes now deep red. His hair is pulled back into a ponytail and shows his slightly pointed ears. Steve’s look the same, and his eyes are still mostly brown, but he can see the red swirling around inside them during the few occasions he can look in the mirror.
Eddie sniffs the air through his mask, bares his teeth. Steve can see the blood in his mouth through the clear plastic.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. What if Eddie hurts him too? What if he’s… What if he’s not Eddie anymore? If the last bits of his humanity have drained out of him, if he’s been forced to let the monster inside take full control… Steve doesn’t know what he’ll do.
I’d let the monster take me, too, he thinks, and then immediately regrets it. He doesn’t want to be that, and in his head he’s holding a snarling beast back with wrought iron bars, in a cell not too different from the one his physical body stands in. He’s gotten this far. It would be a waste to not even try.
The guard leaves Eddie where he stands, still cuffed, and backs away to the door. He slams it shut and locks it, then slides open the food slot. Eddie growls, jerks at his cuffs, trying to get free.
“Munson!” the guard barks. “Back up against the door.”
Eddie backs up until he’s against the door and Steve hears the key unlocking the cuffs around Eddie’s wrists.
The mittens come off next, and both things get pulled through the slot. The guard quickly slides it shut. Eddie is free from his restraints, and now he and Steve are alone.
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jaegerisim · 10 months
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Vent post y'all are gonna hate me for.
I viscerally hate how the Duffers treat most of their non white or queer characters and I hate even more viscerally, how y'all big byler blogs in your circle jerk of other 5 big byler blogs casually like to ignore many red flags the show has.
Y'all like to say: "tHe DufFeRs ArE gReAt WrIteRs" and it's like girl, who are you lying to??? They aren't top shit writers at all. The Duffers are pretty mid imo. Yeah, they run a good show that's fun to watch and theorize abt , but that doesn't mean they're good writers cuz they're not.
1. they completely side lined Will during s3 for the sake of their straight romances: lumax, jancy, mlvn, duzie and partly stobin (even if stobin wasn't endgame, thankfully, Steve's intentions were clearly wanting to date Robin and they gave it a lot of screen time). Will was sidelined bc he didn't fit the straight romance plotline bc they planned to make him gay or whatever. Now in s4 Will and his feelings have been used as mlvn toilet paper. Yes, we like to say this is build up for byler but canonically, Will's feelings have been used to clean the shit mlvn leaves behind.
2. Billy was sympathized a lot during the last 2 seasons. They gave him the sad backstoryTM in order for ppl to feel sorry for him. Billy's backstory is literally Jonathan's but whatever.
3. El's anger issues are constantly girlboss-ified. They down play her bullying situation and literally just use it for El to be a ''girlboss" without realizing how triggering that is. As someone who has lived bullying, seeing it be ignored by canon and fanon is super sad. The whole Rink-O' Mania experience must have been so traumatizing for her yet, everyone absolutely forgets abt it 🤷🏻‍♀️
4. Robin, Erica and Argyle are stereotypical characters. Robin is the quirky lesbian with social anxiety, Erica is the badass black woman and Argyle is the Latino stoner that sells weed to white kids and works as a pizza delivery guy.
5. Altho Argyle and Eddie both do drugs, (Eddie actually sells K-12 to a minor and nobody batted an eye. He has a huge fan base). Eddie is held in a pedestal bc "poor thing 🥺 he lives in a trailer with his uncle 🥺". Tell me a single fact you know abt Argyle that isn't "he smokes weed", "he is Jonathan's only friend", "drives a van" and "he works at a pizzeria". Exactly, Eddie is given a useless backstory and Argyle isn't.
6. Dustin stopped being important to the plot sometime around s2 and s3. He is only there to curse and be mildly funny. My guy needs to hangout with ppl his age cuz he only hangs out with seniors.
7. El needs to stop having so much "I'M THAT BITCH" screentime like I need in s5 for El's arc to not just be her becoming more powerful and falling in love with Mike. I need the Duffers to explore her trauma and problems.
8. Angela should have been run over by the van.
9. Patrick should have been given a backstory that isn't the basic "strict black parents that hit their kids cuz they are a disgrace". Patrick's backstory is actually racist af, fight w the wall.
10. As Lex already said, they didn't trigger tag the ep where Jason and his friends assault Lucas and Erica. Like wtf? Why was that necessary? Why did I have to see a black boy being held at gunpoint by some white guy?? Was it relevant to the plot?? I don't think so. And then I've got to see ppl online be like "Jason wasn't that bad. He was just mourning" like bitch you can stfu. This is what happens when you make the racist assholes conventionally attractive.
Also the fact that Lucas's arc is fulfilled by him fist-fighting Jason and "embracing his weirdness" aka accepting he is black. His arc was not fulfilled at all cuz that ending spoke so loud to me. It showed how little empathy ppl have towards the struggles poc ppl living in the Midwest have. Y'all circle jerks can only see racism when it's super obvious.
Furthermore, parents complained when ST showed "an excessive amount of smoking" yet nobody batted an eye when Billy tried to run over Lucas, when Erica (an 11 y.o ffs) was chased by white kids or when Lucas was held at gunpoint by Jason.
All of this happened while they focused on Max's guilt and mourning that, yeah, are important but certainly not less important than racism!!!
11. In s3, they gave us that whole Nancy vs The Bigots arc that was honestly just triggering and useless. It didn't help Nancy's character at all, quite the opposite it put unnecessary angst.
12. Lonnie being presented as an abuser just for him to never be spoken of again. Can we please get to explore the trauma he left the Byers's with?
13. The fact that both queer relationships are considered "sloppy seconds" is extremely sad. Both Vickie and Mike are rebounding from their failed relationship with Robin and Will. These 2 ships have caused more commotion than Jancy and Jopper together! (These last ships are technically sloppy seconds too but everybody forgets that. Shocker!!)
14. Last but not least, ppl blame Argyle for being the one to get Jonathan into smoking weed as if Jonathan probably wasn't the one looking for it. Let me tell you, that you only find weed if you look for it.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months
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As a crazy cat lady, may I offfer...
Eddie who has always loved cats, how free and soft and elegant they are, how they purr and close their eyes in affection, how they make him forget all his worries and stress. He's loved them ever since a neighbor's cat found him crying behind the trailer after he got bullied for his new haircut, the last gift from his shitty dad before Eddie got whisked away by the social services. The cat ignored his sniffling and jumped in his lap, plopping herself over the bony knees and thin thighs, and when she started rubbing her face against his scraped palm, Eddie felt complete.
He can't adopt one yet because he lives with Wayne who is allergic. Wayne offers to take antihistamines but Eddie refuses, he doesn't want to inconvenience him in his own home. Still, he dreams of one day sometime in the future, a small apartment of his own and at least two cats who will greet him when he comes home.
Eddie finds himself volunteering in a shelter and when a new cat café opens, he jumps at the opportunity. He is hired and spends his days taking of their cat ensemble and preparing delicious coffees. Cats help him be less jittery and more grounded, so it's a win win. Eddie loves this job.
Enter Steve Harrington, an insanely handsome man who stops by to make a reservation. Eddie is his usual flirty self, although he expects Steve will bring a date and that's the end of that. But then Steve leans to Eddie and asks: "Listen, uh...I will need some help."
Suppressing an internal groan, Eddie asks: "what, do you need me to drop an engagement ring into the coffee or something? Because can do, but it needs to be sanitized first."
"Oh no. Not that, no..." Steve runs his fingers through his hair and even though it looks like a nervous gesture, Eddie is seconds away from a cuteness induced nosebleed. "Not at all. I just...I have a little sister, you know? I mean, my adoptive dad is fostering her and she's the kindest girl you've met, but she had it rough in her original family. Apparently there was something involving animals and...she loves cats so much, but is terrified of hurting them. She would never!" he clarifies when he sees a frown forming on Eddie's forehead. "It's just that whenever she showed affection to any animal, her biological father made sure it would get hurt or at least chased away. And that's gone, that man is in jail and I just...I want to show her that it's okay to love animals again. That she can pet a purring cat without worrying about its safety."
Eddie just stares at him with mouth open. "That's...wow," he says. "Sorry. Processing."
Steve does the hair thing again and laughs and Eddie thinks that this man deserves a brother of the year award, yep, he'll ask Gareth to 3D print one right fucking now. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, but I had to be honest because this is a big deal to her. To me as well. Just...listen, I like cats a lot, but I'm not the best at interpreting what they mean, their body language and all that. And I really need Jane to have someone here that can tell her what to do, when she's doing a good job...someone who will protect the kitties if she messes up. Her words. I know it's a lot to ask, but..."
But Eddie shushes him. "Say no more, big boy. I'll be here and I'll give the young lady the cat experience of a lifetime."
Eddie used to think he couldn't love his job any more. But with Jane's uncertain smile and big eyes, her incredulous squeal when a cat chose her for the first time, when she kept asking Eddie for specifics of each cat in his care - "which one is more shy, which one likes to be picked up, which one is a picky eater?" - he thinks he's finally found his calling. Steve beams at him and comes back the next day with a bag of approved cat treats for the cats and a box of chocolates for Eddie as a thank you, then asks him out for a dinner - "if that is even appropriate, shit, sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured or something, this is your job, I get it, but I just really admire you and you were amazing to Jane, uh, and the stuff you say about cats is so interesting I'd just love to hear more". Eddie's heart flutters like the traitor it is and he thinks - maybe this is someone I could adopt a cat with one day.
And unsurprisingly, he's right.
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cranberrymoons · 7 months
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i can take you higher
prompt: charm ✨ (@steddiemicrofic) word count: 548 rating: t tags: smoking, post S2, mild h/c, touch-starved steve title from seminal steve harrington identification song: "i'm on fire" by bruce springsteen
Behind Steve’s house is the woods, and behind that is a river, and on the other side of that there’s a quarry. 
When he was sixteen years old, they pulled a body out of the lake that sits at the bottom of it. It’s not really a lake, and the body wasn’t really a body after all, but he thinks sometimes that everything in his life hinged on that moment. A boy he didn’t know, and a body that wasn’t a body, and the river behind his house emptying into a lake that wasn’t a lake.
“I just wish there was a way to go back to before,” he’s saying, laying on the shore of the lake that isn’t a lake, passing a joint back and forth with the town drug dealer because– why not. “Like some sort of spell, or– or charm that could zap me back to when everything was normal.”
Eddie Munson. What Eddie Munson says, squinting at him through the dark as he exhales a hazy cloud of smoke, is:
“You’re a weird dude, Harrington. Anyone ever tell you that?”
Steve sighs, sitting up on his elbows to accept the joint. “Yeah. A few times.”
“And you’re high as hell right now, and you’re not making any sense.”
Again, “Yeah.” He inhales, holds it in for a beat, blows smoke up toward the stars. “Sorry.”
He wonders if he’ll ever stop apologizing, and then he wonders why he seems to do it so often. To Nancy, to Dustin, to Jonathan, and now, of all people, to–
Eddie snorts. “Don’t be,” he says. “I’m the one who got you high, remember?”
Steve feels something run through him, but his brain is too foggy to figure it out. He drops back to lay down again, and when he does, his head lands on Eddie’s stomach. Eddie makes a quiet sound, breath sucking in sharp, but then his hand settles on Steve’s head, threading through his hair, and it’s been… days? weeks? since anyone has touched him without their hand curled into a fist.
The air is cool, and Eddie’s hands are warm, and Steve lets his eyes fall shut; if he were less high than he is, he’d probably be embarrassed by the fact that his throat goes a little tight. 
“Anyway, I don’t think you need some sort of magic time travel spell,” Eddie says after a long moment, quiet voice cresting through the buzz in Steve’s brain. “Or– if you do, then so do I. But life doesn’t really work that way.”
Steve turns his head to stare up at him, and Eddie’s hand shifts with him, moving around to cradle the back of his skull. He smells good, too, like laundry and cigarettes and an underlying third thing that starts up an itch in the back of Steve’s skull and makes him want to reach out and taste, to see if his tongue can follow it over his skin and into his mouth.
“What do I need, then?” he asks, because the only other thing in his brain is hands and fingers and the warmth of another person’s body under his cheek. 
Eddie blinks at him, frowning slightly. “Time?” he suggests. “Maybe you just need time, and someone who will get you high.”
[also on ao3]
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matchingbatbites · 11 months
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as close to me as i can (18+)
Read on Ao3 | 1.2k
The kit had been Eddie’s idea. 
He could lie and say he doesn’t know where the idea came from, but he does. It’s been brewing in the back of his mind for a while now, ever since he saw it on one of their trips to the nearby sex shop.
He’s noticed, of course, how Steve can get sometimes. How he’ll check himself out in the mirror, how he’ll primp and preen until he looks like absolute perfection. It’s easier to see now that they’re actually living together, but that also means Eddie sees how he hides it from others, how he makes sure to keep his vanity to himself.
Eddie has had the best time pulling it out of him, has loved watching his boyfriend become more and more self-centered in a way they both adore. Eddie loves drowning him in compliments, both casual and filthy, loves that he’s able to help Steve build up his self confidence into something that others might even call narcissistic. Not to them, though.
He wasn’t sure if the kit was taking things too far, though. He’d been worried when he suggested it, and was glad when Steve lit up at the idea, when he instantly went pink with desire and pulled Eddie into their bed at just the thought of it. Eddie had gone the very next day to buy it, and two days later, they find themselves here.
“Does that feel good, baby?”
Steve’s hands clench at the bedding and he moans into the mattress below him, his back arches deliciously as he presses his hips back to meet every thrust, and Eddie can’t help but to stare at how gorgeous his boy is as he fucks Steve with the dildo. It came out better than they had hoped, the silicone firm but not rigid, and even though Steve had whined about how weird the plaster-like casting had felt on his dick, he certainly isn't- 
Actually, he's definitely whining now, all high and needy like he does when he wants Eddie to go harder, to make him feel it for days. Eddie doesnt give in yet, he wants to make this last as long as possible, but he can’t resist a bit of teasing, especially when it makes Steve flush all the way down to his shoulders.
"Yeah, that feels good. It’s such a nice dick, perfect for making pretty boys feel good, hm?”
Eddie smacks a hand onto Steve's ass just to hear him moan again, and then he pulls the dildo out completely. He leans in to spit into Steve's fluttering hole before shoving the toy back in again, and he soaks up the lovely noises his boy makes as he picks up the pace. He never thought he would get this hot from watching his boyfriend fuck himself on a replica of his own cock, but god, Eddie doesn't think he's ever been this hard in his life. 
“Do you like this, Stevie? Like getting fucked with your own dick? Is it good, gorgeous?” 
Steve moans and nods and Eddie slaps him again, squeezes the flesh under his hand as he says “Gonna need more than that, baby. C’mon, use your words for me, tell me how much you love it.” 
He drives the toy deeper and Steve gasps, his hands clawing at the sheets as his thighs start to shake. “Fuckin’ love it! Love it so much-”
Another smack. “You love what?”
“My dick! Love getting fucked by my dick, feels - fuck! - so good!”
Eddie adjusts the angle until Steve is wailing under the onslaught of pleasure, until Eddie is almost worried that Steve’s legs might give out from how much he’s trembling. It’s heady, knowing that he can make Steve feel like this with nothing but a toy and some filthy words, and the thing that makes it even better is that Steve is just as into this whole thing as Eddie is.
“Such a narcissistic little whore, baby. Nobody else’s dick is good enough for you, huh? Just your own, ‘s the only one perfect enough for you, only one that makes you see fuckin’ stars like this, yeah?”
Steve gasps and nods, and he’s almost pulling the sheets from the mattress with how he’s tugging at it. “Fuuuck, ‘m gonna come, Eds, please! Don’ stop!”
He’s close, so close. Eddie can see it in how he shakes, in how he sobs as Eddie growls out a “Come on, Stevie, do it, gorgeous. Fuckin’ come from your own cock.” He picks up the pace and gives Steve’s ass one more hard smack, and that’s all it takes to shove him over the edge.
Steve screams when he comes, the sound muffled slightly from where he’s pressed into the bedding, and Eddie just watches in absolute wonder as he fucks Steve through it until he’s a twitchy, whiny mess. He pulls the toy out slowly and drops it to the side, doesn’t hesitate as he pushes his pants down and barely spits into his hand before he’s stripping his own dick, almost frantic in his pace.
“So fuckin’ pretty, Stevie, so good for me. Love how filthy you are, love how you’re just as freaky as I am, love the things you let me to do you.” Eddie’s babbling, but his mouth always tends to run when he’s close and Steve knows it, groans in response. “Fuck, ‘m gonna come, baby. Where d’you want it?”
He expects a groaned response, or the delirious Anywhere, please that he usually gets. Instead, a thrill of delight runs through him as he watches Steve reach back to grab his ass with one hand, spreading himself as best he can. 
“In me, Ed, please. Need it so bad.”
Eddie complies and grabs Steve’s hips before pushing into his hole, still slick with lube and relaxed from his orgasm. Steve keens as Eddie thrusts two, three, four times before coming so hard that he sees stars for a moment. His hips jerk as he fills up his boyfriend, and Eddie groans when Steve twitches a bit with oversensitivity, clenching around him involuntarily. He takes a moment to catch his breath before he pulls out, and dots a few kisses over the moles on Steve’s back as he waits for his legs to start working again. 
Once he can feel his toes he stands from the bed, quickly grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom and a glass of water from the kitchen before joining Steve agin. Cleanup is quick and practical, and he makes Steve drain the glass before he’s climbing back into bed and wrapping around his boyfriend like an octopus.
“So, I think that was a good investment,” he says after a moment, and Steve hums.
“I definitely agree. We should use it again, though, just to make sure we get our money’s worth out of it.”
Eddie grins and can’t resist giving a soft nip to the shell of Steve’s ear. “Oh trust me, pretty boy, I am already thinking of plans for the future.”
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lihhelsing · 6 months
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Part 5 - Catfish Steddie
You can also read it on AO3!
Eddie isn’t sure how many doubles he pulled in the past week, but he’s not too interested in counting, anyway. He just needs to keep himself busy. Just busy enough. 
He’s also trying to stay out of the house as much as he can because he can’t seem to find it in him to face Gareth. Not right now. 
Not when Gareth was fucking right. 
He didn’t say it to be mean, Edie knows it, but in all the time they’ve known each other, nerdy, weird Eddie was never the one to get the attention of guys built like a Greek god and Gareth had been wary of it from the beginning. 
Eddie couldn’t even get himself to tell him about the catfish because, in the end, he managed to get a date with Steve, and what Gareth didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? 
But the joke’s on Eddie because he’s the one who ended up hurt. 
So yeah, maybe he’s been doing that avoidance thing that annoyed Gareth ever since middle school when Eddie would pretend to not be interested in playing with Max Steel anymore just because he had broken Gareth’s favorite figure and couldn’t find a way to tell him. 
Eddie can be a real piece of work sometimes and he knows that all too well. Gareth knows it too and it is beyond Eddie to understand why does he still put up with his shit after so many years, but after some nasty fights where Gareth had to yell at Eddie to believe he fucking likes him and is definitely sticking around and that Eddie needs to drop that shitty way of acting, Eddie prefers not to say anything.
He’s also aware Gareth can tell something is up and that he’s on borrowed time but that’s for future Eddie to worry about. 
The good thing is that the bar keeps him busy. He's always making a drink or another, cleaning something up and when there are no clients, Eddie can just let the music take over. Let his brain swim in the blissfulness of loud, angry music. 
"Can I get a vodka soda?" Eddie is nodding before he even looks at the person, his body moving with the familiarity of the bar work. 
He grabs the vodka with one hand and twists it around just to show off. His other hand is already filling a glass with ice cubes. Then it's alcohol, measured to be sure, soda, and a half lime wedge at the rim of the glass. 
It's as easy as breathing and it feels good to do something that doesn't involve thinking. 
"Here you go," he slides the glass in front of his customer and it's the first time he looks at her. She has short, brown hair and is looking straight at Eddie, not moving to get her drink. 
"Thanks, Eddie."
He frowns for a second. Doesn't remember telling her his name. Doesn't remember seeing her before, but at the same time, her face looks familiar. 
"Did you need anything else?"
Maybe she asked for another drink and Eddie didn't hear. His mind isn't the most reliable lately, hence why he can't quite place where he knows her from. Maybe she's a regular at the bar and Eddie has just forgotten about it? 
"When's your break?" she asks and oh. Oh, no. Can't she tell Eddie would prefer to suck face with any one of the other patrons that aren't a woman? 
"Sorry. I don't, uh, mess around with paying customers," he says even though he followed a few cute boys out through the back door for sloppy hand-jobs and messy kisses. 
Her frown deepens and Eddie thinks maybe he offended her. He tried letting her down easy but maybe-
"Uh, first of all, gross. Second of all, I just want to talk. Please."
Something isn't adding up. "Do I know you?"
She offers her hand as if she's in an indie movie and she's the edgy main character. Eddie doesn't take it but it doesn't seem to bother her. 
"I thought you knew. I'm Robin Buckley. Steve's roommate."
Oh, fuck. 
x
Eddie feels like he needs a cigarette even though he hasn't smoked in ages. He tends to stay with just weed for most of the time, but this situation right now is so fucked up it calls for one. 
He wonders if he should tell her he's going to 7/11 to get one but he realizes he's just stalling. He doesn't particularly want to hear what she has to say but he couldn't find it in himself to say no. 
Steve tried calling a few times but he gave up once it was clear Eddie wasn't picking up the phone. He wonders if Steve sent her. 
"I have 15 minutes and I was really counting on a nap during my break so make this quick," his voice comes out harsher than usual and Eddie's not mad about it. Maybe if he can put on a hard front she and Steve will leave him alone. 
Eddie's brain has been trying to trick him into believing Steve really didn't have anything to do with the catfish thing, but it just doesn't add up. He spent way too many nights awake thinking about Steve laughing at his expense, at how dumb he was for falling for the thing not once but twice. 
He just wants to move on, forget all about Steve and about how stupid he was to fall for his game. 
"You're bitchier than I remember," she shakes her head as if she can't believe it and Eddie frowns again. He really doesn't remember her. "Guess you're just not that bitchy when it comes to pretty boys, huh."
It takes a second for Eddie's brain to get the message but then…
"You."
She nods and even though she sounds playful as if all of this is nothing more than a joke her face is pinched up. 
"Guilty. Sorry about that, by the way."
Now Eddie is sure Steve sent her and he really doesn't want to hear whatever excuse he has for this. He doesn't even understand what's their goal here. Do they want Eddie to forgive them just so they can feel better about themselves?
"Tell Steve I don't need any apologies. You both can just forget it and leave me alone."
He hopes he doesn't sound too pathetic because he sure feels like it. But Robin doesn't move, she just blinks at him. 
"Steve doesn't know I'm here."
Eddie huffs out a breath. He's getting annoyed at this conversation really fast. 
"Will you just say what it is that you want to say and leave me alone, then? I really need a nap."
"Steve doesn't know I'm here and he didn't know I was, uh, using his face to-"
"Catfish people."
"Is it considered catfishing if I had no intention of dating anyone?"
Eddie frowns. What the fuck is wrong with this girl? 
"Yes."
She closes her eyes and presses her hands to her face. "Shit. I'm fucking this up even more, aren't I? I'm not good at this."
Eddie is honestly so fucking done with her. He's confused and honestly a little angry at this person he doesn't know but thought it was ok to mess with his life for apparently no good reason. 
"Well, I'm gonna go."
Eddie pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and is walking back to the bar when she calls for him. 
"Wait. Please. I'm sorry… I have this tendency to joke around whenever I'm feeling bad or uncomfortable. It's just a shitty defense mechanism that I kind of can't control."
He honestly wants to tell her to fuck off but at the same time… He gets it. He is the same, after all, and Gareth would probably call him out on his bullshit if he ever complained about it. He can hear what she has to say, at least. 
"Ok. Go on, but I desperately need a Slurpee and you're buying."
Slurpees beat cigarettes every day of the week, no doubt. 
x
Robin's story was… Kind of crazy if Eddie was being honest. He was still confused about some things because how the hell did her professor support that idea? 
"I knew it was a crazy thing I was doing. I thought it would be harmless but once I realized it wasn't it was a little too late to back down and he was all over my case."
Eddie clicks his tongue. "You should report him, you know."
She looks completely terrified. "I thought about it but it's probably going to spill all over me."
Eddie shrugged. "Maybe you deserve it."
Robin worried her lower lip in between her teeth. "Maybe I do."
"I'm not saying that to be an asshole, it's just the way things are. When I fuck up at work I have to deal with the consequences and it fucking sucks so maybe you just need to deal with yours. It's not going to be the end of the world."
Robin sighs loudly. She's clutching her blue Slurpee as if her life depends on it and Eddie wants to warn her that it's going to melt. They are both sitting on a bench outside the store and Eddie is probably already running late to get back to his shift but he thinks he needs to be here right now. 
Robin's explanation was not what he was expecting. She swore Steve had absolutely nothing to do with that and proceeded to tell him Steve wasn't even speaking to her anymore.
He still can't wrap his head around the whys. Robin doesn't seem like a psychopath so it makes no sense that she would do something like this. It's an asshole move, especially given she and Steve weren't even friends. But Eddie had been an asshole before. He has fucked up with people he loves and he doesn't think that makes him a bad person.
He doesn't think it makes Robin a bad person. She at least looks really ashamed. 
"Are you going to throw that Slurpee at me?" Robin asks when the silence gets too long. Eddie looks at her and she's joking. Or at least he thinks she is. 
"Would it make you feel better if I did?"
"Honestly? Maybe. I can deal with screaming and fighting and saying dumb shit to each other. It's harder when all he gives me is silence and blank stares. It's like I'm not even there anymore."
Yeah, Eddie has been there. It fucking sucks. 
"Sorry," she says. "I didn't come here to make you feel bad for me. I know I fucked up and you have no obligation in forgiving me but I thought you should know what happened. Steve…"
Eddie has no idea if he can afford thinking about Steve right now. He misses the hell out of him and if he's being honest he misses Robin, too. 
"I know. He didn't know about any of that but I think maybe… Maybe he won't want to hear from me after I shut him out, you know? Maybe he'll be better off forgetting this whole thing."
Robin finally drinks her Slurpee. It's probably all water now, Eddie thinks. She looks at him and there's a glint in her eyes. 
"I think I've never seen him that happy. When he was talking to you, I mean. He was always glued to his phone, a dumb smile on his face. It was kind of adorable, if you like cute puppies."
Eddie did have a soft spot for puppies. 
"It doesn't matter anyway. Like I said, I don't think he will want to hear from me. I think I offended him, too."
"But would you want to? Talk to him again?"
He thinks for a second but he nods before his brain even registers the question. There's this ache in his chest that tells him he's probably going to miss Steve forever if he never talk to him again. 
"Ok, good. Because I might have a plan."
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estrellami-1 · 6 months
Text
If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34
Wayne Munson knows his nephew. After almost ten years, he’d have to be a blind fool to not know his tells.
So when Eddie slams the door open and stomps into his room, Wayne knows he’s got something he needs to talk about, but doesn’t want to yet.
When he gets his guitar out and turns it up until Wayne’s hats on the wall start vibrating, Wayne knows the issue involves someone he has feelings for.
When the guitar stops wailing, Wayne stands from his chair, pads over to the kitchen, and makes his nephew some hot tea in the Garfield mug.
He adds three spoons of sugar, because Eddie has a sweet tooth the size of Texas, then brings it to knock on Eddie’s door.
“Come in,” Eddie mutters, upset, but not at Wayne.
The guitar’s back in its place on the wall and Eddie’s flopped on his bed, hair a wild wreath around his head, arms and legs splayed any which way, as if he’s a toy a child had carelessly dropped onto the ground.
When he spots the mug, Wayne counts five separate expressions cross his face before he settles on begrudgingly humored acceptance.
He slowly crawls his way up until his back is against the wall, then holds both hands out for the mug. “Thanks,” he murmurs, cradling the ceramic.
Wayne knows to stay quiet, knows Eddie needs the silence to think about how to begin. He sits on the edge of the bed and waits patiently.
Finally, he starts. “I can’t tell you everything,” Eddie says haltingly. “But… I thought he’d changed.” He shifts, brings his knees up until his thighs are nearly touching his chest. He rests the mug on his right knee and traces the indents of Garfield’s face with his left pointer finger. “Steve Harrington. He was… really nice. I stayed late last night and we sat up on his roof, talking and smoking. I mean-” He casts a furtive glance Wayne’s direction, then sighs. “Fuck it. Yeah, we were smoking. And talking. And there are extenuating circumstances, and I get that, but we can’t… do anything yet,” he says pleadingly. “We can’t try anything yet. And I get it, and he did mean it, and I think he really even does want to.” He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “But then he said he’d never been with another guy, and I can’t do it, Wayne, not again, I can’t be another guy’s experiment.”
Wayne thinks back to just over a year ago, when Eddie’d come home dejected. Closed the front door gently, collapsed onto the couch, tugged a pillow into his grasp and curled around it. Said, “Jack’s straight.”
“Oh, Eds,” Wayne had said, pulling Eddie into a hug that he’d gladly leaned into.
“He used me,” Eddie had muttered into his collarbone, and something white-hot had burned in Wayne’s chest. “I was just his experiment.”
Wayne feels the same white-hot flash now, but tamps it down. If he knows his nephew, he knows there’s a chance he jumped to conclusions.
Still, he tugs Eddie into a hug, where he rests his head on Wayne’s collarbone, just like he had last year. “Did he say he’s experimenting?”
The silence is telling. “Yes,” he says sullenly.
Wayne flicks his shoulder. “You can be dramatic without lying.”
Eddie deflates. “No,” he mutters.
“So you assumed.”
Eddie leans back to look at him with narrowed eyes. “Are you taking his side?”
“I’m getting all the facts,” Wayne corrects. “I’m always on your side, Eds. Always. Sometimes that means tellin’ you when you’re bein’ obtuse.”
Eddie frowns, but tucks his head back in and brings the mug up to take a sip. “I overreacted.” It’s not a question, so Wayne just responds with a hum. Hesitantly, he asks, “y’think he’ll wanna talk to me?”
“I think you’re gonna have to get through his friend first,” Wayne reminds him. “She seems the loyal type.”
Eddie chuckles. “You got no clue, Wayne.” He sighs. “I’ll go talk to him after I finish the tea. Grovel for his forgiveness.”
Wayne presses a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “There’s my boy.” He feels the smile against his chest.
“Thanks, Wayne.”
“You’re a good kid, Eds. You woulda gotten there eventually.”
Eddie just shrugs and sips at his tea again.
Eventually he leaves, Wayne standing in the doorway, seeing him off. Decides the weather is nice enough for a smoke outside, so that’s what he does.
He sees Steve’s friend bike up as he’s finishing his cigarette. He tamps it out and stands to meet her. “Afternoon.”
“Hi, Mr. Wayne. Is Eddie home?”
Wayne chuckles. “You just missed him, actually, he’s gone to apologize. Come on in, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.”
She studies him for a moment, then nods and extends a hand. “I’m Robin. It’s nice to officially meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he assures her.
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