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#steve doesn't think about being cool he just IS
hairmetal666 · 1 day
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NSFW; Modern AU
Eddie feels like the luckiest man alive, that he gets to count Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley as his best friends, but he wasn't sure about it at first. No matter how often his new little sheepies praised Steve, Eddie remembered high school. He remembered the Steve that was a grade-A, top-choice asshole. But then--Robin comes out to him. And Steve knows. Steve knows and he's cool about it. So, Eddie comes out to them and Steve is cool about that too.
It fucks Eddie up a little, if he's being honest. Like, Steve, objectively, is hot, but Eddie's only ever been superficially attracted to him. He thinks the whole jock archetype just doesn't do a lot for him. Too much negativity attached to their whole thing. But he'd be lying if he said part of him isn't intrigued.
He doesn't develop a crush on Steve, though. Somehow, through all the charm and bitchiness and not-so-secret kindness, his heart remains unmoved. It must be the jock thing.
And then he's scrolling on Twitter. He's scrolling on Twitter and he's not looking for porn, not even in a "Oh no, I never look at porn on the internet" way, and there's this video.
The first thing he sees is the lowered waist band of a pair of 90's-style basketball shorts, Pacers logo just visible. Then it's the long fingers, the broad hands. They're skimming down a tanned, toned torso, not a six-pack but it's somehow sexier this way. Their path draws Eddie's eyes to the dot of moles, the spread of freckles. They're so kissable, Eddie's mouth waters. Those fingers, they linger against the trimmed thatch of dark hair just peaking out over the elastic, before pulling that waistband lower.
Eddie's hard. Rock hard. Fuck, he's so hard a wind gust could make him come.
The guy on screen, he's got his gorgeous dick in hand, giving himself slow strokes and thumbing at the tip to collect the obvious slickness beading there.
It's not really a decision when Eddie unzips and shoves his jeans just low enough to take himself in hand. On screen, the hand speeds up, the stomach shivering, breath coming in soft bursts, somehow almost more intoxicating than the jerking off.
Eddie times his strokes with the video, coming apart faster than he ever has watching porn. He can tell the guy is close, his grip goes tighter, his breath shorter. Eddie's about to go off like a fucking rocket.
The hand stills, the guy's cock fucking quivers, and he's ready for the money shot, will totally come at the same time, except--it doesn't happen.
The screen goes black.
Eddie comes all over himself.
"Fuck, shit, goddamnit," he hisses. He flails around trying to find something to clean himself up with and pause the video so he can read the fucking text.
As wiped up as he can be without showering, Eddie runs the video back a few seconds to see the words, "want the full experience? Subscribe to my OnlyFans."
He's never clicked a link so fast in his life. He's never really explored OnlyFans before, but he signs up for the free trial without a second thought.
The guy's username is KingJock016 and under usual circumstances, Eddie would be disgusted, but it's too late for that. He's already scrolling through thumbnails of hands and dicks and asses and butt plugs and dildos, pausing briefly at a preview of one where KingJock is bent at the waist, perfect ass--dotted with freckles-- framed by the bands of a jock strap. He's deliciously hairy, deliciously ripe, and Eddie is firming up again.
Without fully meaning to, he hits play, and the video starts with KingJock already rocking his cock into his fist. He's moaning in this one, full throated, almost desperate. And there's something about it, something that catches in Eddie's brain, but he can't focus on that when he's watching KingJock trace a finger around his own asshole.
It's insane that Eddie is this far gone without seeing the guy's face, that his toes are curling at the mere sight of KingJock fucking himself. The sounds are obscene, the slick and snap of skin on skin, the throaty moans, the creak of the bed as KingJock rocks into his fist and back onto his fingers.
Eddie's not even touching himself, and he's already standing at complete attention, a heady ache already starting in his balls.
And then KingJock flips his head back, revealing a shock of chestnut hair, the taut lines of a mole-kissed throat, the hard line of a jaw. One eye flashes open, looks directly at the camera, at Eddie.
It's fucking Steve Harrington.
Eddie comes all over himself again.
It's Steve. His best friend, Steve. His straight best friend. Making content clearly targeted for queer men? I mean, Eddie can't fault him. Like, nice work if you can get it, but Steve???
He hasn't done anything to clean up because his thoughts are spiraling too hard. How long has this been going on? Does Robin know? Should Eddie subscribe ? Leave a comment about how this video made him come untouched? Join a live? No, no, of course not. Steve was his real life friend. He couldn't hang out with him and then watch him fuck himself on a wall-mounted dildo.
He hits subscribe though. He'll hate himself for it later. It's only for the trial period, anyway.
He wipes himself off, but the come is already drying, sticky, against his skin and in his body hair. He needs a shower. He needs to practice being normal around Steve now that he--
Shit, Steve. They're going to the movies tonight. Steve's supposed to pick him up in, shit, fuck twenty minutes.
Eddie hurls himself into the shower, moves so quickly he doesn't really have time to think about Steve having an OnlyFans, about how hard he got off to his friend, about how he keeps having flashes of Steve's perfect body play through his head.
It's hard to ignore it when Steve is standing at his door in his form hugging jeans and little t-shirt and Eddie's done for, a dead man; here lies Eddie Munson. He's just standing in the doorway, smiling at Steve and he knows it's manic, but he can't slip it.
"Are you okay?" Steve asks. Eddie hears the words but all it does is remind him of KingJock's breathy moans.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He keeps smiling.
Steve's eyes narrow. He leans into Eddie's space. "Did you drop acid again? We told you not to do it alo--"
"I didn't! Nothing's wrong."
"Your face is all flushed. You feeling okay? You could have a fever."
Before Eddie can react, Steve's resting the back of his hand on his forehead. Eddie flinches, swatting Steve away, which devolves into a brief slap fight.
"I don't have a fever, man. I'm fine. Hot shower, is all."
"If you say so. Ready to get going?"
Eddie nods. He can totally do this. He can pretend he doesn't know about the OnlyFans and the face Steve makes when he's about to come.
The drive is quiet. Too quiet. He thinks his bones are trying to rip through his skin.
He starts talking, isn't even tracking what he's saying. Dnd and then suddenly it's hobbits and then Star Trek for reasons even he doesn't comprehend. He glances over at Steve, and he's burnished golden from the light of the setting sun. He's so beautiful. How did Eddie miss it all this time? Why did he--
"Get any new subscribers lately?" He hears come out of his mouth.
Steve slams on the breaks, sending Eddie careening into he dashboard.
"Jesus Christ, what the fuck," Eddie shrieks. The car behind them lays on the horn, then speeds past when it's clear they aren't moving.
"Why are you saying what the fuck at me?" Steve hisses back. He hits the gas, pulling the car to the side of the road. "Eddie--what the fuck?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he chants. He hides his head in his hands. "I didn't mean to--I'm so fucking sorry."
"How'd you find it?"
Eddie snorts. "One of your videos showed up on my TL. That's the algorithm for you."
"Jesus christ," Steve mutters. "You weren't supposed to--it's--"
"What are you even doing, man?"
"My Family Video salary won't cut it, if we're moving to Indy."
"You're not even gay."
Steve mumbles something, but he's looking out the window and not at Eddie at all.
"What was that?"
"Maybe I am!" Steve doesn't shout, but it's forceful.
Eddie's mouth drops. "Does Robin know?"
Steve stares forward, hands tightening on the wheel.
"And you didn't tell me?" It hurts, he's surprised how much, so much it takes his breath.
"It wasn't like that, Ed."
"Oh, no? Then what was it like?"
"It doesn't matter."
"The fuck it doesn't! I'm the first person you should've come to! I know exactly what it's like."
"No, you don't." Steve explodes. "You don't because you made me realize. And I couldn't talk to you about it because I like you. And, yeah, maybe starting an OnlyFans as part of my gay awakening is weird to you, but it's done a lot for me, okay?"
Steve said a lot of stuff just there, a lot of important things, but Eddie's glitched out on one part. "You like...me?"
"Yeah, like. Have you met you?" Steve slumps in his seat, like he's defeated. "You're fucking beautiful, dude. And smart and funny and passionate. Nerdy as hell. I didn't stand a chance."
"But I'm--" Eddie shakes his head. "I mean, look at me."
"I have." Steve nods. "A lot. I really like what I see."
"When I realized it was you in those videos, I came all over myself. Untouched," Eddie blurts. He flushes deep crimson immediately. "Oh my god, I can't believe I just--"
Steve is laughing, hands pressed over his mouth.
"Shut up, shut up," Eddie swipes at him. "It's not funny, oh my god."
When Steve gets it together, he finally looks at Eddie, and there's pink in his cheeks and a shine to his eyes. "That might be the most gratifying thing anyone has ever said to me."
"Yeah, well. It was humiliating."
"It's hot, Eddie."
His blush hasn't cooled even a bit. "Yeah?" His voice comes out deep, husky.
"I wouldn't mind, uh--that is, if it's cool with you--seeing it for myself?"
Eddie giggles. "You wanna make me come untouched, sweetheart?"
Steve shifts in his seat. "I'd really like that. Will you let me?"
"Uh-huh, absolutely, definitely. If you don't put this car in drive and get us back to my place, I'm going to literally die."
Steve laughs again, a bright, free thing, and he swings back onto the road. "Not yet, you aren't."
That sends a shock of pleasant shivers down Eddie's spine, right to his dick.
"Maybe we can even make a video together sometime."
Eddie, much to his deep embarrassment, whines, hips shifting with the sudden need for relief. "Oh, you didn't want me to die before because this is how you're planning on killing me."
Steve turns to him, a smirk on his lips and a devilish glint in his eye. "You have no idea what I'm going to do to you."
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vbecker10 · 2 days
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Can you do a fic were reader comforting Loki, whenever he get's nightmare..and just being a vulnerable baby🥹
Talk to Me
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: The Battle of New York was a year ago but as the newest member of the team, you quickly discover Loki is still tormented by nightmares every night. You try your best to help him while still dealing with your own nightmares.
Warning: Past trauma, nightmares, minor injury, mentions of a house burning down
A/N: I love this request! I accidently made it way longer than I originally planned but I hope that's okay. Thanks so much for sending this! I hope you like it! 💚
Thanks @firedrakegirl for help with the title! 🙂
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You follow Tony and Steve down the hall and into the large oval conference room. "Morning everyone," Steve says and the chattering stops as all of the Avengers turn to face the three of you. He gestures towards you, "This is Y/N, I think a few of you met her already during her interview process. She's going to be the newest addition to the team."
"Hi," you wave to everyone and it reminds you of that awkward feeling you get when you're the new kid in school.
"Don't forget, she has pyrokinesis so everyone be nice to her," Tony jokes.
A few people laugh lightly but Scott looks confused and raises his hand. You cover your mouth to hide your own laugh and Steve groans. "We've been over this, she can create and control fire," he explains.
"Oooh, right. Cool," Scott gives you a thumbs up and smiles wide.
The rest of the team seems excited for you to join except for Loki. He sits quietly at the far end of the table, lost in his own thoughts. Tony notices you looking nervously at Loki and he whispers, "Just ignore him, everyone else does." You laugh at his suggestion and take an empty seat so the meeting can begin.
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You sigh and throw off your covers as you get out of bed. Two hours of staring at the ceiling is enough for tonight, you think. You put a hoodie on over your t-shirt and slip on a pair of jeans before leaving your room. You wander slowly down the dimly lit hallway until you finally reach the kitchen and turn on the incredibly bright overhead lights.
After finding the largest mug you can, you set about making yourself a cup of coffee but you are stopped in your tracks when you hear someone talking faintly. You turn but don't see anyone else in the kitchen. A part of you thinks you are finally going crazy from sleep deprivation but then you hear it again.
You follow the voice out of the kitchen and into the common area next to it. The room is dark but enough light filters in from the kitchen for you to see someone sleeping on one of the couches. The person pulls the blanket around themselves tighter and mumbles something as they roll over. You find yourself drawn closer to the sleeping figure and realize it's Loki. You notice a book on the coffee table and assume he fell asleep reading.
He tosses and turns on the couch, clearly in the grips of a nightmare. "Stop, please," he says a bit louder, still fully asleep.
Your heart breaks at his words and how scared his expression is, he seems terrified of whatever he is dreaming about. You reach your hand out and shake his shoulder lightly, "Loki, wake up. You're having a nightmare." He doesn't respond, still caught in the dream so you try again. "Loki, you're safe now. It's just a dream, wake-"
His eyes open suddenly and you barely have enough time for the fear to flood through your body as a green glow lashes out towards you.
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"Y/N," you hear a far off voice call for you. "Y/N, are you alright?"
You blink your eyes open, squinting at the brightness surrounding you. You look up towards the voice and see the fuzzy faces of Steve and Tony kneeling over you. It takes a moment for you to realize you are sitting with your back against the wall, a person sized hole in the drywall next to you. You reach your hand up and touch the back of your head lightly but thankfully there is no blood when you check your fingers.
"Y/N?" Steve asks again and you look at him, he finally comes into focus.
"I think I'm okay," you guess. Your whole body is sore but it doesn't feel as if anything is broken. "What happened?"
"Loki threw you into the wall," Tony says, his voice thick with anger towards the God of Mischief.
You look over his shoulder and see Loki standing in the furthest corner, his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on the floor. Thor stands in front of him, one hand on his hip and the other gesturing as he talks. You can't hear what he is saying but you can guess by his body language that the younger prince is in serious trouble.
"He didn't do it on purpose," you tell them and Loki lifts his head to look at you. Thor turns as well and you add, "He was having a nightmare. I was just trying to wake him and I guess I scared him or something."
"That may be but he still hurt you. Now let's get you to the med bay and make sure you're okay. Can't have you out of commission before your first mission," Tony says.
You nod, too tired and sore to argue further. Steve and Tony carefully help you off the floor. You make eye contact with Loki as you leave the room but he only holds it for a second before he lowers his eyes to the ground.
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Your sister texts you to sleep well and you toss your phone gently onto the nightstand after replying. You lay back for a moment but you sit up again, knowing you won't be going back to sleep even though it's almost 5am. You sit on the edge of your bed and think about the last three days. You learned one thing, Loki was a professional when it came to avoiding you. You hadn't seen him once, and you had tried your hardest to find him. You wanted to let him know you weren't upset about what happened but it seemed like you weren't going to get that chance.
You sigh and get out of bed, grabbing your phone, you leave your room in a t-shirt and lounge pants. Instead of going straight to the kitchen for coffee like to have every night so far, you decide to just walk around for a bit. You wander towards the other end of the hall, trying to see if you remember which room is who's as you pass them.
You reach the last bedroom and stop to look out the window at the end of the hall. There are a few clouds but it is still mostly dark out. You barely have time for your mind to wander before you hear someone talking. You recognize the voice and the quiet pleas immediately. Standing outside the door, you listen to Loki beg in his sleep for the pain to stop and you knock loudly on his door. He doesn't answer and you try again.
You groan in frustration but are determined not to give up, turning to look down the hall you know Thor's room is right next to his brother's. You knock on his door, after a minute, you see light spill out under the door and he opens it.
"Are you alright?" he asks, rubbing his eyes.
"I'm fine but Loki's not," you tell him. "He's having another nightmare. I tried knocking but he didn't hear me."
Thor nods but doesn't seem as concerned as you are. "My brother has nightmares every night Y/N. He has since they freed him from the mind stone," he explains.
"Shouldn't someone try to help him?" you ask. "He's obviously not okay."
He shrugs but you can see the worry in his eyes, "Believe me, I have tried but he does not want my help. He doesn't want anyone's help."
You look towards his door, you can still hear him faintly asking for whatever he is reliving to come to an end. "Can't we do something for him?" you ask.
Thor puts his hand on your shoulder gently. "Until he is willing to admit that he needs help, there is not much I, or you, can do. Go back to sleep Y/N." With that, he closes his door and leaves you standing in the hall alone. You try Loki's door one last time before slowly walking back to your room.
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After making your second cup of coffee tonight, you head up to the library to find a new book. It's been four days since Thor told you there was nothing you could do to help Loki but you couldn't stop thinking about him. You didn't want to believe Thor was right but you also weren't sure you were the best person to help him anyway.
You walk slowly down one aisle then another until you pick up a book that looks like it might be interesting. While reading the back cover you hear the familiar sound of Loki having a nightmare, "Stop, please don't do this."
You nearly drop the hardcover book but grip it tightly to your chest as you look towards his voice. He continues to plead quietly and you can hear the urgency in his voice. You move carefully towards the couches at the rear of the room and see him tossing and turning. You stop, unsure how to wake him without being attacked like the first time.
"No, no," his cries become louder, he struggles with the blanket that is wrapped tightly around him. You look around and then down at the book in your hand. The book lover in you cringes but you can't think of anything else. You slam the hardcover book to the ground as hard as you can.
He sits up quickly, pulled from his nightmare by the sudden, loud thud. He breaths heavily and he untangles himself from the blanket, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes. He looks towards what caused the sound and you slowly reveal yourself from your hiding spot.
"Sorry I woke you like that," you tell him picking up the book. "I wasn't sure what else to do. It seemed like you were having a really bad dream again." He is quiet, watching you come closer and you stop when you see how uncomfortable he looks. "I should go," you decide and turn to leave.
"How come you never seem to sleep?" he asks and you stop.
"What?" you turn back to face him, acting like you don't know what he is talking about.
He gets up, the blanket vanishing with a wave of his hand. He motions towards your now cold coffee and says, "You're always awake in the middle of the night."
You grip your cup and look down at it, then back up at him. "I barely sleep lately," you admit.
"Why not?" he asks.
You bite your lip nervously and walk past him to sit on the couch. Setting your coffee aside, he sits next to you and waits for your answer. "I have really bad nightmares," you tell him. "They started again a few months ago."
He sighs in response and you both sit quietly for a moment then says, "I assume I don't need to tell you my dreams are about Thanos and what happened before my brother found me?"
You nod but are a bit surprised he admitted it so easily. When you tried talking to Thor about Loki again yesterday, he made it seem as if you were more likely to get a rock to talk then the God of Mischief.
He then asks, "What are your nightmares about?"
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You pick up your coffee with one hand a create a small flame in the other, holding it just close enough to reheat the cooled liquid.
"That is a useful talent," he tries to joke and you force a laugh but neither of you have forgotten his question.
"My nightmares are of my worst fear," you tell him. "When I was seven, I lit my first fire." He watches you intently as you talk. "I had a nightmare and I don't honestly even remember it but I know it was scary enough to trigger my powers in my sleep. What was even more terrifying though was the scene I woke up to," you pause as the memory floods back. "The room my younger sister and I shared was fully engulfed in flames, my sheets, the curtains, all of our toys. The fire was everywhere and I wasn't strong enough yet to contain it."
"I remember hearing my sister scream and then our dad came into the room, our mom was right behind him. My dad picked up my sister and my mom took my hand and I stayed close to her. We all got out safely but the fire continued to spread, it destroyed the whole house, everything we owned was gone," you tell him, closing your eyes as you feel the tears gather. You wipe them away quickly then look up at him again.
"I'm sorry," he says genuinely, "I'm glad to hear your family made it out."
You nod, "Me too."
"So the nightmares, is it just the memory of what happened?" he asks, curious to see if you both relive your past horrors the same.
"Not exactly. My nightmares always start the same, my little sister screams and my parents come in to find the room full of flames," you tell him, trying to hold back the familiar feeling of panic that comes with those dreams. "But I always wake up when the house collapses with all of us still inside."
"That does sound like a terrifying dream," he agrees. You can tell there is something else he wants to ask so you sit quietly until he finally says, "I am curious though, how long do you think you can go without sleeping in order to avoid the dreams?"
"I don't do it on purpose, I would love to sleep but I guess I'm afraid to sometimes," you tell him. "Besides, it's not like you should be giving anyone advice on dealing with nightmares." The words come out much harsher than you mean for them too.
"Point well taken," he says looking down.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," you tell him quickly and he shrugs then looks up as if he suddenly remembered something.
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"I should apologize to you actually," he says. "I never meant to hurt you the other night. I don't even remember doing it honestly."
"Lucky for us both I have a hard head," you try to joke but it does nothing to help either of you feel better at the moment.
You finish your coffee and he says, "Thor told me you tried to wake me again a few nights ago. That you were outside my room and you heard me."
"Oh," you suddenly feel awkward. "I swear I didn't go to find you or anything, I was just wandering around and ended up there. I felt really bad that you were having another nightmare."
"Why would it make you feel bad?" he asks genuinely curious.
"Why wouldn't I?" you ask as if the answer is obvious but he just looks at you still confused by how much you care. "You sounded so hurt and scared. I just wanted you to know you were safe here and you aren't with him anymore."
"I appreciate your concern but you don't need to worry about me," he says.
He smiles a bit, "I appreciate the offer."
"Unfortunately for you, it's too late, I'm already concerned," you tell him and you see him fight to hold back a smile. "I really think you should talk to someone, about your dreams I mean. Your brother or one of the shrinks that works here, or even me if you want. It could help."
"Does talking help you?" he asks.
"Yea, it's definitely getting better. The first thing I do when I wake up is call or text my little sister," you tell him. "She's a really good listener, probably better then I am but I'm all you have at the moment," you joke.
He laughs at your determination and asks, "Are you sure you want me to... what do you humans call it?" You shrug not knowing what word he wants and he says, "Ah, trauma dump is it?"
"Well go ahead then, talk to me," you smile and sit back comfortably.
You laugh, "That is the last thing I thought you were going to say but yea, sure. I'm just here to listen if it'll help get some of those thoughts out of your head."
The smile fades from his face and he says, "If I agree to this I need you to promise you won't tell anyone what we talk about."
"Of course. Patient, fake shrink confidentiality," you say but it's clear the joke missed. "Loki, I promise I would never tell anyone, that would defeat the purpose of wanting you to trust me," you tell him seriously.
He nods and takes a few deep breaths, his eyes on the ground. You wait patiently for him to begin talking and once he does, his thoughts and words flow quickly.
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The alarm on your phone goes off and you open your eyes, it takes a second to realize you are still in the library. Lifting your head slowly from Loki's chest you look up at him, his arm still drapped over you loosely and your arm around his waist. He yawns then looks at you with a small smile as he says, "Good morning Y/N."
"Morning, Loki," you smile back. "I don't even remember falling asleep," you tell him.
He stretches a bit as you sit up, "You drifted off just before sunrise but you seemed so comfortable, I didn't want to wake you."
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He stands up then turns and looks at you with a puzzling expression. "What's wrong?" you ask him, standing up as well.
"Nothing I just... I didn't have a nightmare," he smiles slowly. "And you didn't either."
You smile, "See, I was right. You just needed someone to talk to." Without thinking you give Loki a hug and when he hugs you back you tell him, "You can always talk to me."
Vaguely Similar Read: Someone sent a request (about 2 years ago lol) for a comfort fic where you help Loki through a nightmare. Below is the summary and link to the story if anyone wants to read that as well 💚
You wake from a recurring nightmare about losing Y/N during the Battle of NY. She comforts you, telling you she doesn't blame you for her injuries during the attack and that you will never lose her.
Shh... It was Just a Bad Dream
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passivenovember · 1 day
Text
thinking real hard about Billy and Steve finding each other years after they've settled into themselves.
Billy's gone to therapy and he lives in a little house on the shoreline. Steve makes it to California. Doesn't have the six nuggets, yet. He's working insane hours at a job that isn't very lucrative, but he never had to sell his soul to his old man--
So. Point is. They're happy. Content, almost.
And then they find each other.
--
Steve's burning a pot of water when the phone rings.
It's like a knife through the air. A thorn in his side, pain and annoyance ramping up to an 11 as he yanks the receiver from the wall. "Yeah, now's not a great time," He says, because the goddamn smoke alarm's gonna start wailing any second now, and Steve's neighbor is real trigger-happy when it comes to alerting the fire department. "Look, I'll call you--"
"--Why answer the phone?"
Steve would know Billy's voice anywhere, the rough and tumble drag of someone who used to live fast and hard but doesn't, anymore. "I," Steve says, "I don't--"
"--It's like. Why answer the phone if it's not a good time to talk?"
"I don't like being impolite."
Billy hums, smoke and lightning on the end of the line. "So, you weren't waiting for me to call?"
"No," Steve says. But he was. Has been since high school and all the weird, boring, disheartening years that followed until Billy appeared at the dive bar on Saturday. Like a vision. An angel.
"Damn. And here I was, taking a full 72 hours to figure out what I should say," Billy tells him.
Steve can hear a smile.
Aches to taste it, but-- "That's kinda lame, Hargrove."
"So what?"
"So. You're kinda lame, I guess."
Billy laughs at him, then, high and bright. It shoots confetti into Steve's kitchen, the curling tendrils nearly catching on fire as Steve comes back to himself. He pulls the pan of water and dumps it into the sink, killing the flame on the stove.
"Yeah, I'm a disaster. Maxine tells me all the time," Billy says, "It's just. How weird, y'know?"
"What? You?"
"No, you," Billy tells him, chuckling again. "Fell outta the sky, or something. Into a shitty dive bar."
"So did you--"
"--Fell outta my dreams."
"So did you," Steve says, and his stomach twists. Tumbles. Washing-machine guts still soiled with the bloody red spots of a decade-long crush.
"Huh. You're kinda forward, Harrington."
Steve shrugs, face burning. "Long as I'm not as lame as you are."
"Dude, I didn't say you weren't lame."
"Sure, you didn't."
Billy's next laugh Steve feels in his gut, heat pooling behind the thatch of curly down at his pelvis. "Still such a bitch, pretty boy."
"I'm just being honest. We aren't getting any younger, I'm not really interested in playing it cool, anymore."
Something rustles as Billy shifts his weight, "You were cool, once?"
"Ha-ha."
"I don't wanna play it cool, either," Billy tells him, as serious as a heart attack, "Look, can I be honest? You mind?"
Steve nods and then remembers Billy can't see him. "Go ahead."
"I can't stop thinking about you."
Steve peers through the kitchen window, trying to imagine Billy somewhere on the edge of town with sunlight in his hair. Smoking in bed, naked gold until the duvet pulls him under hips first.
"Harrington, I need to see you again."
"Need is kind of dramatic."
"Maybe I'm feeling dramatic."
"Thought this was honesty hour, Hargrove?"
"It is. Honestly? I wanna kiss you," Billy tells him. "At midnight. In the pouring rain because I was too chicken-shit to do it after our first date."
Steve focuses on not swallowing his tongue. Damn near fails. "Was that a date?"
"No, it was bigger. It was the stars aligning, the start of--"
"--God, you are feeling dramatic."
"When can I see you?"
"I dunno," Steve says, fiddling with the lip of the sink, "When are we expecting rain?"
"Not sure."
Steve can hear his smile. Aches to sink into the softness. "I need a window to commit."
"Tonight. I'll make it rain."
Steve snorts, light as air. "You're crazy."
"I've had ten years to plan for this, Steve."
"Alright, lemme--" Steve pads over to the refrigerator, peering at his Kittens and Firefighters calendar. May is covered in birthdays, vacations, late nights at work, and roll-over plans from April, all hacked into the cardstock in striking red.
Steve groans and flips to June. "--Can you still make it rain in a month?"
"A month," Billy demands, "Fuck. You're hot shit but I didn't think--"
"--I have a full-time job. And friends who want to hang out when I'm not at work, but since I use all my energy at work I cancel on them, and things get moved around and--"
"--You can't make an exception for the guy who wants to eat you out?"
The pages of the calendar flutter, May settling heavy in the room. Steve swallows and his throat clicks. "Uh. My friends--"
"--Aren't gonna eat you out."
"They would. If I asked them to, at least one of them would."
"I'm not really loving that idea, pretty boy," Billy says, teasing. "What about over a lunch break?"
"You want to eat my ass over a lunch break?" Steve snorts, "I'm not a hooker."
"What's wrong with--"
"--I'm not," Steve says, "And even if I was, I'm not cheap. You couldn't afford the hour, and we'd need more than that, anyway."
"What about a sleep over?"
"A sleepover?" Steve says, turning from the refrigerator. "Like, where I come over to your house and stay until the morning?"
"Or I come over to yours, yeah."
"But--"
"Actually, let's do yours. Maxine's place is getting fumigated, so she and Lucas are staying in the guest house."
"You have a guest house?" Steve doesn't remember mention of that during their first date, but. He was distracted.
Billy laughs, "Bet I could afford your hour, pretty boy."
"I thought," Steve says, twirling the phone cord around his hand, "In high school, I remember you telling Becky Gordes that you don't do sleepovers."
"I'm gay."
"Okay, but what about Eddie Munson? The whole school thought you were fucking him, did he ever sleep--"
"--No, my dad would've killed both of us," Billy tells him, and. Something in his voice makes Steve's blood run cold. Makes him believe it.
So he shifts gears, "But. Don't you have work tomorrow?"
"Who said anything about a sleepover tonight," Billy says. Steve imagines the look on his face. Shit-eating grin bright and sharp and beautiful as always. "Unless you want me to come over tonight?"
"I never said that."
"I can work wherever I want. I don't have to go in at all, if I don't want to."
Steve pads over to his junk drawer, digging around for a red pen. "What does Saturday look like for you?" He bites the cap off, holding it like a straw in the curl of his tongue.
Billy laughs, "I thought you said you weren't free until next month?"
Steve chews on the cap for a moment, pen shaking over the cardstock surface of his calendar. He imagines Billy like he was that night. Different but exactly the same. Charming and soft in a way that only comes from the toil of regeneration. Years and years shedding skin.
He'd been funny and smart. Quick wittted.
Sweet. Like cotton fuckin' candy.
Steve remembers not wanting the date to end, not believing that the universe would give him Billy with no strings attached and laying awake that night, hoping Billy would call, and that they'd get their chance, and now--
"Shit. What the fuck am I doing?" Steve asks, but it comes out garbled and messy and wrong. Comes out sounding like, she whale the food ham ding dong.
Billy laughs at him, again, anyway. "What?"
Steve spits the pen cap onto the counter. "You really want to eat me out tonight?"
"Damn--"
"--Because. I was too fucking stupid to realize what was happening between us in high school. Or. What was happening to me when I saw you in high school, and this is important to me," Steve says in a rush. Fuck being subtle, right? "We're not getting any younger. And I haven't slept with anyone for a long time, much less someone who I've wanted for as long as I can remember, so if you're going to come over here and fuck me--"
"Or talk," Billy says gently. "We could talk more. Get to know each other."
Steve listens to the static on the other end of the line.
"I want to get to know you again, Steve," Billy says.
And Steve cracks. Like a bowl in the microwave, curdling under pressure and heat. "Alright, just. Do you have a pen and paper?"
"For what?"
"My address," Steve says, leaning against the sink, "I want to get to know you, too."
"Tonight," Billy asks, digging around for something.
"Tonight," Steve says. "What the hell."
"Great."
"You've got something to write with?"
"Yeah," Billy says, sounding like he's barely holding it together. "Yeah, just. Whenever you're ready."
--
That night, after, just as Steve falls asleep in Billy's arms--
It rains.
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like Steve is simply too cool and beautiful to know about Science(TM) but he’s so tenderhearted and good and KIND that he just lets all the nerds explain things to him and he’s also humble so he never holds himself above them but his un-interest is refreshing and funny and iconic. idk i just love it. the most valid jock there ever was.
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[ID in alt text] my magnum opus
#the owl house#toh#hunter toh#lilith clawthorne#i have hcs about their dynamic but they're mostly comedic tbh#like yeah it's fucked up that Lilith had beef with a child but it's also pathetic and i think that takes the edge off it tbh#hunter kinda knows this. he doesn't like her and i appreciate it when ppl read it as ''hes walking on eggshells around her''#based on that one dana art#i think it's a fair read#but i personally like to read it as equal parts nervousness and annoyance at having to be placed with Mean Un-Fun Lilith#hunter thinks she's a loser and has no idea why she hates him so much. he's just trying to do his job man#(my personal elaborate hc as to how this dynamic formed is that hunter as a child used to think Lilith was cool! he wanted to be like her!)#(unfortunately his braggadocios persona as the golden guard gave Lilith the impression that he was Out For Her Job and also Life)#(and bc she's Lilith these threats from a child are taken seriously. she will play nice when Belos is around but she DOES NOT TRUST HIM)#(and she's just not going to interrogate her own insecurities regarding yet another bubbly teen prodigy coming in and stealing her thunder)#(she is definitely not getting reminded of her own insecurities related to eda being better than her growing up. no sir)#(she totally doesn't see the emperor as her mom whaaat that's crazy)#(ANYWAY post canon i think they could be good friends. bitchy friends but good friends)#(someone the other comes to when they need a brutally honest opinion! steve hangs out with them too. ex emperor's coven buddies!)
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avi17 · 2 years
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Maybe I'm just seeing more of this than usual since I'm in my biggest fandom in a long time but like. I feel like the kids today have very much forgotten that you're allowed to just...ship a thing. You're allowed to think the characters had interesting potential and just. Do the thing. You don't have to dissect eye movement and body language and where people are standing and stuff to prove it's canon- that stuff is chemistry, and it can be real and present without it being intentional. Doesn't make it any less real, but also doesn't make it some kind of conspiracy- there are movies from 70 years ago where actors had interesting chemistry that comes off homoerotic, but that certainly doesn't mean they were playing it that way on purpose. You don't have to wildly skew stuff actors say in interviews either, putting words in people's mouths is actually a little creepy.
I think we're at the point with queer representation and canon queer ships where we've had enough of it turn out to be real that we want it to always be real, and we feel like we have to prove it is real to feel valid in shipping it. I'm here to tell you that you don't have to do that.
I'm not saying those ships SHOULDN'T be canon, I'd love them to be. In some cases the story would be way better if they were. But you don't have to prove they were Canon All Along to be allowed to enjoy them. And if you hinge your enjoyment of a piece of media made by cishet people on the idea that the actors are going to confirm your ship was canon, or feel like you have to validate your ship by insisting it will become canon, I feel like you're just gonna end up disappointed.
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jaybren · 10 months
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I Believe...Steddie
I normally don't mind angst (though I avoid drama fics in general). Miscommunication is the biggest trope in romance, so I'm all for it, but for some reason Steve x Eddie fics / drabbles where Eddie still thinks of Steve as Steve THE KING Harrington always sit weirdly for me. Sometimes, if the Upside Down didn't happen (AUs in general) or pre-UD setting, maybe -- sure, then that could work. But close to canon fics where Eddie lives and Steve legit confesses to him? Always just -- strikes me as wrong.
Finally realized why -- it's literally the antithesis of canon Eddie. Canon! Eddie is quick to acknowledge Steve has changed. He literally runs up to him in the Upside Down while a bunch of madness is happening and where he has every right to be consumed by his own shit-tastic situation, but instead, he's telling Steve how he is a great guy and has changed.
Can Eddie be bitchy and prejudice? Yes.
Does Eddie have grudges against jocks / the popular crowd? Yes.
But he also goes full on bowing gentlemen for cheerleaders (going out of his way to help Chrissy and make her smile) and he's quick to acknowledge Steve's not that same popular AH anymore.
With Steve's bitchiness not aimed at him, Eddie would be eating his Honeycomb and snickering when old habits popped back up, and maybe he'd feel conflicted about jocky Steve, complaining about going to games or something until somebody smacked some sense into him. Totally believe tension and disbelief about one liking the other or some bias about things, but I just can't see Steve proclaiming his love or whatever and Eddie assuming it is a trap or trick or prank or something.
Maybe he'd think Steve was confused. Maybe he'd assume they were doomed, but I can't see him blaming Steve for that or blowing up their relationship IF Eddie accepted the confession and they started dating. Eddie's way more down on himself.
If someone can explain how it makes sense, please do. I'd love to enjoy all Steddie tropes, and that one seems popular lately, but where my brain sees so many problems with them getting to the confession point or even a number of big arguments that could happen afterward due to outside aspects, those two strike me as highly tactile, highly clingy romantics who would be convinced they were the height of discrete while practically fused, constantly touching and being snide little judgy dudes together.
#steddie#Steve x Eddie#Eddie Munson#Stranger Things#Only way Eddie doesn't see how Steve's changed is if the Upside Down doesn't exist but then Steve might not have changed#the second Steve asks him out Eddie is 100% in#won't accept anything different#Eddie is a drama king but he's the the sort to be clingy and pushy and cause problems by being too tactile and obvious in a homophobic town#which is why I 100% believe fics where Eddie and Steve fight over Steve refusing to come out or leave Hawkins#Despite also 100% believing Eddie would understand#frankly I fall for all the tropes EXCEPT Eddie not believing (in a canon compliant Upside Down having universe)that Steve has changed#where are my double date fics with Eddie and Steve taking out two girls only to get dumped because they spent more time chatting themselves#What about the fics where Eddie sets Steve up with a metalhead girl only for Steve to be like 'wow I'm super into this'#but then he realizes partway through he is 100% imaging she's Eddie#Or Steve setting up Eddie on a double date only to have a 'oh no I fucked up' moment as he realizes halfway through that he loves Eddie#Steve: Cool Eddie might score (*and it was at that moment he realizes he fucked up) I don't want Eddie to score#Give me hooking up duo who 'just like making out' and 'just aren't ready to get back out there yet' who feel pressured to do so#and they end up throwing hands over it and banging#Eddie: So...that happened. | Steve: Do you think Dustin was right? | Eddie: No way that butthead is right. | Steve: But what if he is?#Eddie: Obviously we can't tell him. | Steve: But we can still make out right? | Eddie: Fuck yeah#Give me dumb bets between guys friends inspired by Steve trying to relate to Eddie like he used to Tommy
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dynamic-power · 1 month
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Eddie has a mole on the back of his neck.
It's on the right side, just beside the first knob of his spine and just below his hairline, and it's only visible because Eddie has tied his hair into a bun on the top of his head to cool off in the stifling heat of Steve's garage.
Steve wants to bite it.
He doesn't know why. He's never felt the need to bite Eddie before, but there is something about that mole that is begging to have Steve's teeth leave a mark around it. He wants to lick at the skin, taste the sweat shining in the light, kiss that spot that he's never kissed before.
He realizes with delight that he can. He couldn't a month ago, not without it being incredibly awkward, but now that he an Eddie are involved-
He crosses the stuffy room, stands behind Eddie's stool, and leans down. Eddie's been playing his guitar and must not have heard Steve approach because his body jumps when Steve's lips press to that mole.
Steve grips Eddie's hips to still him and darts his tongue out, lapping at damp skin. The taste of soap and sweat and Eddie explode across his tongue and he hums. Eddie leans back, and Steve takes his weight easily, wishing they weren't wearing shirts. He wants to feel skin on skin.
"Do you need attention?" Eddie teases as Steve continues to mouth at his neck.
"You have a mole here," Steve informs him, pressing a soft kiss to the spot before licking at it again.
"Do I?" Eddie sounds distracted. Steve likes that, deciding that he does, in fact, need attention.
"Yeah. Think you have any more I don't know about?" Steve asks, wrapping his arms around Eddie properly, encouraging him to put his guitar down.
"I dunno," Eddie says, "wanna find out?"
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blushweddinggowns · 10 months
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I'm all for the angsty overhearing a conversation trope where it's all sad because of a misunderstanding. But I also love the opposite. Overhearing a conversation where the other person is just singing their praises. Especially with Steve and Eddie.
Like Steve being very aware that he likes Eddie, but way too afraid of rejection to actually do anything about it. So he just pines away, and gets closer and closer to him with the full expectation of it never going anywhere. Until one day, he comes to pick Dustin up from Hellfire too early, and he can hear everyone talking through the door. About him. But mostly it's Eddie, his loud voice carrying across the room. And he's just raving about him, and somehow managing to bring him up in conversations that have nothing to do with him.
Do you remember that time Steve saved my life by shoving my guts back into my body? Yeah, that's the level of skill and luck you're going to need to survive this.
Did you guys know that Steve actually gave me this background music? He's weirdly knowledgeable about classical stuff. Isn't that cool? He's so smart and-oh, yeah, the merchant agrees to the deal.
So uh, is Steve maybe seeing anyone? He isn't right? Like he would tell me if he was, wouldn't he?
And he doesn't give a single fuck at the collective groaning of the group whenever he gets going, never failing to pull out the I almost Died saving the world with you card to get them to shut up. And by the time it actually ends, Steve is a glowing, blushing mess who can't stop smiling.
Or the other way around. With Eddie full on assuming he has 0 shot because Steve's, Steve.
The golden boy who could obviously never be into him like that, or any other guy for that matter. So he doesn't do anything about his feelings, he just hangs out with him more and more and falls for him more and more, waiting for the inevitable day when he gets a girlfriend and his fantasies could finally die. Except one day, he spends the night at Steve's, but he isn't in bed when he wakes up. He goes to find him, just to hear him downstairs loudly talking to Robin. Because neither of them know the concept of inside voices when they're together. And he waits at the top, listening in just for the fuck of it, but mostly because he doesn't want to interrupt.
"I just feel like bed sharing the way you guys do is gay as hell," Robin sighed, "Especially at your age. Also, should we even be talking about this with him in the house?"
And before Eddie has time to freak out over that and the possibility he's gotten caught with his feelings, Steve is already answering, "I know right? And don't worry about it, he sleeps like the dead. But I don't know what to do about it. He still hasn't done anything. Am I just reading this whole thing wrong?"
"Well you could try making the first move instead of trying to trick him into doing it," Robin tried.
"And ruin our friendship incase I'm wrong? Yeah, no. Besides, I go like, full dumbass around him when I'm nervous. He's too hot. I'd probably walk into a wall in the middle of professing my undying love."
"Yeah," Robin sighed, "You probably would."
And Eddie is just having a moment upstairs. A full on I think I may have to jump for joy moment. Or even, I think I'm five seconds away from squealing like a teenage girl moment.
Yeah, I like that shit.
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stevieschrodinger · 8 months
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Part One
Baker Steve and Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU
Part two
"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"
"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.
"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."
"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."
"I, ah, don't?"
"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, right?"
"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."
"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."
"That sounds really really great-"
"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"
The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."
Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realised Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone.
"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"
Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"
"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"
Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"
"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"
Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"
"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest," my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"
"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"
"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, i'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."
"Yeah? You mean it?"
"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."
"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great."
Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings.
"I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, what I get back..."
"I'd like that." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?". Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.
"I ah, music?"
"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though.
"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."
All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.
"Oh right, and what's the band called?"
"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."
After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.
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riality-check · 8 months
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DILF!Steve concert saga, featuring Eddie POV for this part! part 1, part 2
"I have to open it."
"Nope."
"Gareth. I need to open it."
"The vault is sacred," Archie says.
At the same time, Jeff chimes in, "The vault was your idea, Eddie."
Eddie thunks his head against the wall. "I know. But I need-"
"They're on the last song," Archie says, putting a hand on Eddie's shoulder. It's probably meant to be comforting, but it feels patronizing as shit.
Eddie is a good friend, though. He doesn't shrug him off.
"Once they're through, I'll unlock it," Jeff says, dangling the key slung around his neck.
"But you could do it now," Eddie protests.
Gareth sits protectively on top of the black lock box. "Absolutely not."
Eddie sighs and waits for the guitar solo onstage to end, nodding his head along to the beat.
It's what he usually does when they're backstage, but this time, it brings a smile to his face. Miss Anna was a natural yesterday for her first time headbanging, and her dad is the reason Eddie wants to break the sacred vault tradition.
He wants, no, needs to know if he got the note. If he decided to write something. If he wants to go a little further than PG flirting.
Eddie for sure wants to go further than that. God. Steve's handsome face and his big hands and his thick thighs (deliciously exposed by his shorts in the summer heat) are all wonderful incentives to skip a few steps and go straight to ramming him into a mattress.
Or, with how that shirt clung to Steve's biceps and how his shorts clung to his ass, let him ram Eddie into the mattress. He isn't picky.
(He isn't desperate, either, thank you very much, Gareth. And no, he won't admit how long it's been since he got laid.)
From the house, the audience roars, and Eddie jumps off the arm of the couch he was laying on.
Gareth sighs and gets off the lock box.
"Jeff, open it," Eddie says, staring at the vault and subconsciously making grabby hands toward it.
"Is that how we ask?"
"I could always yank the key off you."
Archie sighs and, ever the peacemaker, takes the key from Jeff and unlocks the vault. The second it's open, Eddie snatches his phone and turns it on.
Please please please let the DILF text back, he thinks to himself as he waits for this stupid metal brick to turn on and give him a resolution to this whole ridiculous situation.
Because, first, Eddie doesn't really jive with kids. Sure, they flock to him in the same way they flock to every other vaguely cool-looking person, but aside from asking if he has to draw his tattoos on every day or if his mommy is okay with him having his hair that long, they generally leave him alone.
And that's okay. Eddie easily made his peace with not having kids about ten years ago. Between his strong preference for men and the way that significantly decreases those odds and the choice to not pass on his truly abysmal family history of mental illness and addiction, it seemed obvious and a lot more selfless.
But Anna was cool as hell. Smart as hell, too, in a way that made Eddie feel like he was looking back at a time before school punished him for being bright and verbose and energetic.
Anna didn't make him want kids. Again, the whole family history thing is a real vibe killer. But she did give him enough fuel, for just an instant, to think that dating someone with a kid might not be a deal breaker anymore.
Or maybe Steve was just that hot.
He whined a lot yesterday, in the hotel, about how hot Steve was.
His phone turns on, and, front and center, is a text from an unknown number:
I guess I don’t have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we’re even on that front, I’m a teacher, and Anna’s full time job is preschool.
Eddie grins so hard he feels like his face will split in two.
"Is it him?" Jeff asks, trying to look over Eddie's shoulder.
"Of course it is," Gareth scoffs. "Look at his face."
"What did he say?" Archie asks.
Eddie takes the easier way out and lets him have the phone.
Gareth and Jeff crowd over Archie's shoulders, and Eddie watches their faces change as they read the message.
"Oh, he's bitchy," Gareth says.
"That means he's perfect," Jeff says, with a pointed look at Eddie.
Eddie shoots Archie a clear "back me up" look and gets a shrug in return because all his friends are assholes who know his type way too fucking well.
"What do I say?" he asks.
Archie tosses him the phone. "I don't know. Flirt back."
"I don't know how!"
"You ground against a guitar-"
"And kissed me onstage," Jeff continues. "But you don't know how to flirt?"
Eddie puts his head in his hands. "I didn't have enough sex in high school to know how to do this!"
"That's not an excuse when none of us did!" Gareth says.
Jeff barks out a laugh.
"Just ask if he's free tomorrow," Archie says, like the rational, wonderful friend he is. "This was the last stop of tour. It's not like you have to get anywhere else at a specific time."
"Okay. Okay, yeah, I can do that," Eddie says, hyping himself up. Before he can second guess himself, he writes back.
Since it's summer, I'm assuming you both have off. Can you fit it in your busy schedule to have dinner with a humble musician tomorrow night?
"Oh, shit, did you send it?" Gareth asks, snatching his phone.
"Wait," Archie says, like the rational, horrible friend he is. "Do we know if he's single?"
"Oh, shit," Jeff whispers.
Eddie takes his phone back and refuses to look at it. He wants to shut it down. He wants to drop it. He wants to drive to nearest river and throw it there.
"Am I a homewrecker?" he asks absently.
"Only if you succeed," Jeff says.
"He might have a wife," Archie muses. "He might be straight."
"Okay, dude, enough," Gareth says. "This was supposed to be exciting! Eddie was supposed to get ass!"
"He might be ace."
"Archie, shut the fuck up."
He holds his hands up in surrender, and Jeff pats his shoulder, a little comfortingly, a lot condescendingly.
Eddie sits down on the couch. Puts his head in his hands. Breathes.
He's flirting with a married man. He's absolutely flirting with a married man. This is a new low. This is worse than the time he licked the floor of a restaurant, drunk, for five bucks. This is worse than when he greened out in the parking lot of a Chuck E. Cheese. This is worse than when he accidentally told the gas station cashier that he loved them and immediately walked into the glass door behind him.
This is. So bad.
And then his phone rings, so it'll get worse. It has to. That's how these things go.
Eddie has always been self-destructive, so, of course, he looks at the screen.
I can't swing dinner, but how's lunch? Fair warning: it might be a playground picnic if my babysitter bails.
"Holy shit, I'm not a homewrecker," Eddie says.
"I didn't think you had it in you," Jeff says.
"He's single!" Gareth cheers.
"Can I talk now?" Archie teases.
"I'm not a homewrecker!" Eddie says, and he launches off the couch to hug the nearest person, who happens to be Jeff.
They have to get out of the venue. He has to figure out the logistics of the date and how to be normal by the time he gets there and what to wear and everything else.
But, right now, Eddie is over the fucking moon that Steve is even giving him a shot. And he hopes, giddy as all hell and hanging off of Jeff's shoulders, that Steve feels even a little bit like this.
He writes back, once he's calmed down:
Lunch might just become my new favorite meal.
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maybe a lil fic with steve yk like he thinks you're together but r just thinks that they're just friends cuz she thinks he acts that way with everyone (he doesn't). so when he's like "we're going on that dinner date, right?" and she's just so confused and flabbergasted "since when did we start dating??"
I've missed your writing on my dashboard ily<3
i’m glad someone misses my writing. i hope this is okay🩷
steve harrington x fem!reader (this ended up being long… i’m shocked)
masterlist
“here comes loverboy.”
your brows pinched together at max’s words. looking over your shoulder to see steve leaving the register, heading back towards your booth with a pastel pink box in hand.
the boy slid into the open seat beside you. shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. his warmth radiating off his body blankets you from the february chill that seeps into the diner’s walls.
“what’s in the box?” robin questioned while making a grab for it. steve quickly slapped- gently tapped- the approaching hand away. robin making a scene for no one.
“not for you, buckley. for my favorite girl.” and steve looked directly at you.
“aw, thanks steve-o.” max fawned. a simple giggle slipped from your mouth while steve rolled his eyes. “not for you either, rugrat. only for my favorite, most special girl.” finally sliding the pastry box in front of you.
steve tapped his fingers against the table top, “they had your go-tos so i got one of each.” your cheeks warmed as you opened the top, “you didn’t have to, stevie.”
“yeah, stevie. what about us?” robin pointed between her and max, a twisted pout to her face.
steve eyed them, “what about you two? get your own stuff.” huffing like they were insane to think steve would do anything of that level for them.
eyeing the different options you grabbed a donut and proceeded to spilt the item into four small bites. handing off two for max and robin, replacing them with another two, one for you and the other for steve. hand waiting for steve, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist delicately as he bites into his awaiting treat. you chuckle at the silliness.
“you too are gross.” robin declared with her mouth full. steve copied her actions, “says you. close your mouth while chewing.” placing his hand over his mouth in after thought.
“so,” speaking up to change the subject, “any nice plans this week?” referring to valentine’s day on wednesday.
“lucas says he’s taking me some place special, which might be the arcade.” max played it cool but you could tell it affected her in a good way.
“band practice is my special valentine. can’t complain too much.” robin punctuated her sentence with a sip of water.
“what’s the dynamic duo gonna do on the day of love?” max teased, batting her lashes while cupping her cheeks.
you shrugged, “don’t think we have plans-“ “yes we do.” steve is quick to fix you misunderstanding.
there was a surprised spark in your eyes, “we do?”
steve’s brows furrowed, “yeah. i told you about the dinner date i scheduled.” now your bows scrunched, “yeah, but i thought you were going on a date.”
steve leaned towards you, “i am. with you.” punctuation on those two words, letting every letter hit you in the face.
you sat shell shocked, eyes focused over steve’s shoulder while robin and max almost jumped from their vinyl seats.
“for real?” “since when were you dating?”
at the word dating you shook away any incoming thoughts and waves away their curiosity. “we’re not dating. we’re just friends. steve’s like this with everyone.” knowing that would end any discussion.
three sets of eyes stared you down, you wanted to shrink into the ground from the attention. “what?” a squeak at their baring eyes.
“steve is only sugary sweet to you. do you not remember five minutes ago? when he bought you treats, without you asking, then told me and max to fuck off.” robin questioned.
“language-“ “i didn’t say that-“
max waved you both off, “whatever. what robin is trying to get at is, you are dating. steve openly flirty banters with you, you reciprocate in a flustered mess, and steve has hearts beaming from his corneas.” max’s palms smack onto the table.
your mouth opened, then closed. open, close, open, close. “i just,” you hands flapped about, “i- i thought he just- you know…”
“no we don’t, but please, tell us.” robin eyed you wolfishly.
anxiously you pinched the skin around your fingers, teeth biting into your bottom lip, eyes darting everywhere not knowing what your next move was.
“alright, enough teasing. let’s just get everyone home.” steve broke the silence. sliding out beside you then holding a waiting hand out, you couldn’t help but just to stare at it, like it might bite you or something.
“it’s alright, sweetheart. we’ll talk later.” soft, kind filled brown eyes watched your movements as you set your palm to his and he help you exit the booth smoothly. steve gave a squeeze before releasing his hold and your chest felt heavy again.
he called you sweetheart. he usually throws pet names about, but this one just felt… different. your brain connected to it differently.
robin and max were silent on the drive to their houses, radio at medium volume, but they kept the backseat of the bmw silent as a church mouse.
you could barely look steve’s way, barely glance at him from your peripheral. he didn’t seem tense from your words just… dejected. a gloomy cloud hanging over his head and it’s because you friend zoned him while he thought you both were together.
no chance he wants to be with you now, blew it for yourself before you even had a proper chance. you wallow in silence.
robin was the first to be dropped off. steve came to a slow stop in front of her tiny house, shifting into park so he could look back with a gentle smile, “call if you need anything. and try not to do anything clumsy.”
robin rolled her eyes in a playful manner, “i’ll try not to dad.” and she left with a comforting squeeze of your bicep.
steve waited until robin waved you off an closed her front door. “okay mayfield, home or someplace else?” he always asked when driving her.
“umm, wheeler’s. please.” yeah, she felt sorry about earlier. her please and thank you’s were a bit sparring.
again silence. you wanted to speak, but with max still in the car you held your tongue. pinching at the material of your jeans while eyeing the scenery passing by in a blur, you couldn’t help flinching at the touch of skin covering your own. you looked down cautiously to see steve’s right hand resting over your fidgeting one, stopping your mindless action.
the fifteen minute drive pasted into two minutes when you saw the big two story home come into view. you saw a couple of bikes laying in the front yard and suspected the boys also were invading the family home.
“thanks for the ride. i’ll be fine to get home later.” shuffling mixed with her words before popping the left back door open. a soft thud followed her exit then she stopped outside your window and lightly tapped.
you rolled it down with concern at her sorrow filled expression. “i’m sorry. about earlier. i wasn’t trying to-“
“max,” cutting her off, “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean harm and plus, might’ve opened my eyes today.” playing coy with your words.
a smile flickered at her lips while her eyes looked over your shoulder. she left with a pep to her step and you were finally alone with your steve.
“so wanna-“ “did you really think we weren’t dating?”
you could help your light chuckle, “getting straight to the point i see.”
steve sputtered, “i just- it felt like we’ve been on multiple dates. and- and we’re very touchy with each other, always there for each other. i just- i just thought we were dating after the trip to chicago.”
that did turn into a pretty romantic trip now that you thought back on certain scenarios. “i think i’m just blind to romantic advances. didn’t think i was your type.” mumbling the last part.
you’ve seen the girls steve’s been with in the past. all perfect, petite, not quite hair out of place and makeup painted over delicate skin. you weren’t those things, you were messy at times, flyaways sticking up from nonexistent static, stains appearing on your clothes without knowing.
you didn’t deserve steve, he deserved someone-
“hey.” a finger crooked under your chin and moved your head from its slumped position. steve homely brown eyes darted over your face, your imperfections. you wanted to flinch away. he must’ve read your mind since her cupped your cheeks with his warm palms.
“you are none of those things i know your thinking too much about. you are completely deserving of being loved deeply and i’m happy to be that person to pour his soul into yours. if you’ll verbally say yes so we’re on the same page this time.”
your own hands wandered to hold onto steve’s wrist, “that was quite romantic of you. didn’t think of you to be a sap.” deflecting a bit from nerves.
steve smiled brightly, “for you i’ll always be a sap. practically turn into honey for you.” leaning over his console to press a kiss onto the tip of your nose. “so what do you say, wanna give us a proper go?”
you bit into your bottom lip, “i guess i could try.” smiling so wide your cheeks ached as steve dotted kisses over your face, not suppressing your giggles of glee.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 4 months
Text
I am massively busy with work and finalizing my Big Bang, but this idea just won't leave...
Steve and Eddie are both actors. They're in their mid thirties, well established, but they never starred together in anything. Steve tends to be cast in the same type, the dumb but pretty love interest, Eddie has lots of indie and disturbing movies under his belt. But this time, they both landed something big.
They get cast in the new Batman movie.
Steve is, of course, Batman. He insists on doing his own stunts. He refuses to get dehydrated for his shirtless scenes because he knows how damaging it is to both young men and women alike, he's not going to contribute to shitty expectations. The director (Dustin, duh!) sees something in him other directors never have - a potential for depth, for internal turmoil. He gives Steve the chance to prove himself as an actor and Steve pounces on it.
He's still very hot.
Eddie is cast as the Joker. He is a fan of the comics and scoffs at how absurd and deranged the character is becoming. He gets hired because he immediately says he doesn't think the character needs to rely on cheap tricks and shock value to be terrifying. Cutting off his face? Not cool. He suggests to play the Joker according to one of the older comics he has - one where the Joker is actually absolutely sane, but hides it to never be held accountable for his actions. The only person who ever saw through his ruse was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Joker took care of that issue very quickly.
The chemistry between Steve and Eddie on screen is insane. They go toe to toe, it's impossible to look away when they interact. Eddie utilizes his bright smile to the maximum, tweaking it just right within moments so it becomes unsettling. The first time he laughs, Steve gets goosebumps.
Steve encompasses Bruce's loneliness so well Eddie's heart breaks for him. Dustin finds him in the trailer, giving himself gentle slaps over the face and muttering "you're evil, damn it, you don't want to comfort the Bat!!".
Batgirl (Robin) and Harley Quinn (Chrissy) find their slow descent into love hilarious. They all become good friends on the set.
Hopper, an acting veteran who plays Commissioner Gordon, grasps Steve's shoulder after an intense fight scene and mutters: "Good job, Steve, but maybe don't stare at his lips so much?"
Robin doesn't give him the same courtesy and once Dustin yells "Cut!", she screeches: "NOW KISS!"
The movie is a hit. People love the cast and the story, some of the OG fans complain as they always do, but the ratings are great, there are many interviews, panels, all of that.
And of course, there's gossip about Steve and Eddie being a thing, which enrages the macho Batman fanbase. Their Batman isn't gay!
But the rumors quickly disappear after an award ceremony where Eddie is nominated for the best supporting actor. He wins, of course. And as he gets up to accept the small statue and deliver a speech with enough "fuck"s to give the censor a headache, he drags Steve up and kisses him in front of the whole world.
A week later, Steve and Eddie are together in front of a camera again, answering questions in an interview.
The host asks: "What do you say to those fans that are disappointed, who say that their Batman isn't gay?"
Steve just snorts, pulls Eddie closer and answers: "They're right. Their Batman isn't gay. But he's definitely bi."
Also the comic story I'm mentioning exits and is short but fantastic. 10/10 recommend.
Oh also. The first spark happens when Steve sees Eddie's hair and blurts out: "Please tell me they're not making you cut it shorter. It's too gorgeous for that."
Also because people were asking about the comics - it's Batman Black and White - Case Study and it can be found on Tumblr HERE
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luveline · 4 months
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Hi Jade! I absolutely love your writing, especially when you write for Eddie or Steve. Love these two. I was wondering if you could write about an insucure reader who has been rejected a lot and doesn't believe it when someone actually starts loving her for who she is. I'd love this with either Eddie or Steve . You can choose who you want to write for. If you don't wanna write something like this, that's fine too. Just know that I love your writing!
ty for requesting!! —you have a hard time believing eddie loves you, but he does. fem, 1.1k
“Oh my god.” 
Eddie freaks you out when he talks like that. His voice turns hoarse, almost grainy, like he’s in shock, or he can’t get a grip. 
“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks. 
“It’s not alright?” you ask, looking down at your outfit. It’s just jeans and a chunky cardigan. He sounds like he loves it, but your brain goes straight to worry anyhow. 
“No, not alright.” He leans back against your pillows, his arms behind his head and his biceps doing something cruel against his shirt sleeves. “Not alright at all. Do a spin?” 
You shake your head severely. 
“Doll,” he says, pouting gently. “Please?” 
“No, if it looks bad, I’ll change,” you say. 
“It doesn’t look bad! I’m kidding. You look the opposite of bad, so do a spin!” 
You love his voice and the way he talks, and you love him —though of course he doesn’t know it— so you end up doing a slow spin for him in your bedroom. You’ve buttoned the top button of your cardigan and it’s a very static movement, but he oohs, ahs, and sits up quickly. 
“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful.” 
“Boo,” you mumble. 
“Just as I suspected you would.” He gestures you forward. “Wait, come over here a second.” 
Eddie says wait as an act of persuasion, or a white lie; he makes it sound as though there’s something urgent afoot, but there never is. He grabs your arm when you’re close enough, then your back, looking up into your face imploringly. “I just wanted to look at you.” Being held like this warms you from the inside out. His hand scrunches your cardigan and shirt, the other bringing your arm to his chest. “But you guessed that.” 
“No, I…” You smile in a flat line. “You’re sure I look good?” 
“Of course I am. I was kidding,” he says, softer now. “You know? I was being sarcastic, because you look that good it’s crazy to imply you look bad. I promise.” 
You sit down on the bed beside him. 
“You look so pretty,” he says. 
You nod as a strange ache blossoms in your throat. “Sorry,” you say, wishing you could explain it to him. You weren’t always scared of what people are thinking, but past dismissal has left you off kilter, and now he’s paying the price. 
“For what, angel?” he asks, though he’s not waiting for an answer. “You’re…you do look beautiful, you do, I’m not messing around. Well, I was. But I’m not now, so don’t be sorry, and don’t worry. I love this stuff, I fucking love the jeans, you have nice thighs,” —he laughs at your tired sigh— “and I love buttons. These buttons are great.” 
You let your cheek rest gently on his arm, still laughing. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s not half as cool as he thinks he is. He’s too earnest to be a bad boy. “Thank you.” 
“I love you.” 
You shake your head. Eddie’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer, face encouraged into his neck. “I do,” he says gently. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” 
“Yes.” 
He brings his hand to the back of your neck. “Mm. And have I given you any reason to think I’m lying?” 
“I don’t think you’re lying, I just think that… that I… you know.”
“I know. Doesn’t make it true.” He sounds a peculiar mixture of sad and happy at once. Find concern, perhaps, or loving derision. “I love you, and I’d love it if you walked around in bobbly sweaters and clogs. I don’t care what you wear, ‘cos it’s you.” 
“There’s nothing even that good about me to feel that way for.” 
“You don’t think so, but I do.” He turns his face down to you and presses the bridge of his nose to your temple. 
His t-shirt smells like clary soap. You curl your hand into the front of it, the soft wall of his abdomen underneath a familiar comfort. He hugs you tighter still. Eddie’s told you he loves you a few times, and you’d thought that when a guy finally felt the same way about you, everything would be fixed, you could say it back and live happily ever after, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. Every time he tells you he loves you, you’re paralysed by the idea that he can’t. But then he holds you like this and you start to wonder if he’s telling the truth. 
He kisses the side of your face. “You okay?” he asks, kissing you again to punctuate. 
“Yes. Yeah.” You work your arms behind his back and squeeze him. 
Eddie encourages your head back carefully. He meets your eyes; all you can see is his irises, deeply brown, and his long lashes where they tent together. You’re too close to see his lips, but you can sense that he’s smiling from the warmth in his eyes and the slight droop of his eyelids. 
“Kiss?” he murmurs. 
You hum a yes. Eddie nudges your nose with his until there’s space to kiss you, your lips pressed tight and then less so, a dance of sweet kisses. You relax under his touch, the physical evidence of his affection, so totally that your back clicks. He smiles into your mouth but pulls away, too tempted by the opportunity to make a joke. 
“You need a masseuse,�� he says, bringing his hand to your cheek. 
“No, I don’t.” You can practically see the steam radiating off of your cheeks. 
“You totally do. I could give you a massage, babe. I’m really good.” 
“No… we’re going to the movies.” 
“See, that sounds like you do want one. I can give you one later.” 
You look at him for too long, his brows pulling together in concern, but it’s nothing he has to worry about. “Love you,” you say quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. 
His arm stutters at your side. “I love you,” you correct. The ‘I’ is important, especially when he’s never heard it from you before. It’s easy to love someone so patient, and so funny. 
He hugs you tight and sudden. “Yeah,” he says, “I love you too.” His watch digs into your spine. You don’t tell him. It’ll probably bruise, but you just don’t care. It’s nice to be loved fiercely. 
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rogueddie · 6 months
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Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.
His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.
But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.
It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.
Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.
It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.
He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.
But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.
He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.
"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"
"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."
They laugh, quickly moving on.
After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.
He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.
They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.
"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"
"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."
"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."
"It's ugly."
"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."
"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."
"No, it's not. It's special to me."
"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"
"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."
"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."
"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."
"If- what?"
"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"
"You've lost me."
Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.
"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"
"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"
"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."
Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"
"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."
"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."
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hairmetal666 · 5 months
Text
Steve who goes on a Bake Off type show after Robin, Dustin, and Max set him up as a contestant. He doesn't want to, doesn't think baking or cooking should be stressful, but he's been wallowing since his knee surgery took him out of work and basketball, since his divorce.
His first day on set, he's totally gobsmacked by the sexy host with all the tattoos and long, curly hair. Just, cannot take his eyes off the guy, blushing and stammering whenever he comes around to do interviews, obviously can't stop starring.
After the first day, where he manages to stay comfortably in the middle of the pack, he calls Robin to complain about what a mess he becomes around this gorgeous dude.
Her response is to cackle and say, "Steve! How do you not know who Eddie Munson is? Oh my god, you're a disaster."
Turns out, Eddie Munson is the lead singer of Dustin's favorite band, Corroded Coffin, and also pretty well-known for his dnd YouTube channel. He's been a host on the show for years, only Steve doesn't really pay attention when the others watch it and didn't know.
Eddie, for his part, is losing his mind. He'd known about the beautiful contestant for this season, former college basketball superstar turned coach, having a hell of a shitty year after dislocating his kneecap in a charity game. Eddie--foolishly, it turns out--thought he wouldn't be as attractive in person. He also expected Steve to be terrible and egotistical, a jock through and through.
So, when Steve Harrington walks into the tent in a short-sleeved polo and obviously ironed jeans and is still drop-dead gorgeous, he's fucking flabbergasted. And then Steve has the audacity to be nice? Kind and thoughtful and running to help other bakers when he still has work to do himself? He also blushes so pretty, high across his nose and cheeks, and god does hewant to be the reason Steve blushes like that.
Eddie is beside himself.
Leading up to the second week, Steve schools himself into being calm around Eddie. He can't afford to lose his cool like that every time the host is around. Except, this week Eddie flirts with him shamelessly. Winks at him, leans into space, calls him "m'lord" with this deeply resonant voice that makes Steve want to drop to his knees. Steve doesn't mean to, not really, but he flirts right back, feeding Eddie tidbits of his bakes and looking for any excuse to touch him.
Steve does well for the first half of episodes. He never wins the technical or star baker, but he's regularly within the top contestants. On episode five, though, something is off. He's distracted, forgetful, doesn't leave enough time for his custard to set in the signature. Eddie asks if he's okay, but Steve shrugs and smiles, says "off my game today."
But then, in the technical, he curdles his buttercream more than once, and his genoise sponge burns. Eddie watches as Steve folds his arms above his head and disappears from view. He doesn't hesitate, he sprints from his interview, falling to his knees in front of the contestant.
"Stevie, sweetheart, what's going on?"
"I get migraines," Steve whispers. Trails of wet streak down his cheeks. "I've felt one coming all morning, been trying to stave it off but--"
"Okay, okay," Eddie shakes out his hands. "You can sit out this challenge, yeah? Or take this weekend off. It happens. You'll come back next week--"
"I don't want to stop." More tears fall from his eyes.
"What do you need?"
Steve shakes his head, wry little smile pulling at his lips. "Time to breathe."
Eddie glances up, eyes catching on the camera crew hovering in front of them. He throws both middle fingers up and says, in the most reasonable and even tone, "fuck!" Everyone in the tent looks at him, but he doesn't stop. "Shit!" "Bitch!" Motherfucker!" He goes on and on, saying the filthiest series of things he can think of. The camera crew steps away, another contestant brings Steve a glass of water, and Eddie sits with him.
The other host announces that there are thirty minutes remaining in the challenge.
"Well. That's that, then," Steve says. He stands, patting the naked skin of Eddie's knee where it shows through the rip in his jeans as he goes.
"Wait, what do you mean?"
"Out of time, no cake, no buttercream."
Eddie hops to his feet. "You're going to let that stop you?"
"Well." Steve laughs. "Can't serve this." He gestures to his discarded bowls of frosting, his burnt cake.
"You have time to make another buttercream."
Steve raises an eyebrow. "Sure, but not the cake."
"Cut the burnt off. Cover it in the buttercream. Easy peasy."
"Okay..." Steve stares at his station. "Okay, that could work. It won't be pretty, but--"
Eddie, knowing he's no longer needed, steps away, and Steve gets to work.
Steve tells Robin all about it and, as soon as he gets home from the taping and she's immediately like, "Eddie Munson, huh?"
He shoots her a look. "It's nothing."
"Yeah, him leaping over a table to check on you is surely nothing."
"Robin," he warns.
"What?"
"Eddie would never want a guy like me."
She laughs but quickly grows sober. "Steve. Of course he would. He likes you."
"It's nothing, really." He walks towards the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner?"
Eddie experiences the same harassment from his band members and their manager.
"You're gonna ask Harrington out, right?" Gareth asks.
"That would be a little bit of a professional conflict of interest," he deadpans. He doesn't look up from his guitar.
A puffed Cheeto smacks him square in the forehead. "Hey!" He shrieks.
"He means once the season is done, Edward," Chrissy says.
He wipes the cheese dust from his forehead. "Not a good enough reason to call me Edward. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he's straight."
Jeff guffaws. "C'mon, dude. No way. He's so into you he might as well have a neon sign."
"He divorced a woman."
"That doesn't mean anything, and you know it," Chrissy says.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "I may be considering asking him out. Maybe."
Everyone cheers. More Cheetos hit him in the face.
---
To Steve's great surprise, he makes it to the finals. Not just makes it, he gets a star baker, gets first in the semi-final technical. He's baking in the final and might have a fucking chance.
It's with great surprise, once it's all said and done, that he hears his name announced as the winner. He doesn't have much time to process it, because Eddie is striding towards him. He's not carrying the cake stand trophy or flowers, it's just Eddie.
Eddie who stops in front of him, eyes shining. Eddie who leans in and whispers, "I knew you could do it, baby, I'm so proud of you." Eddie who twines his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss.
The internet explodes as the season airs. Everyone is obsessed with Steve and Eddie. They have fics on ao3, a dedicated tumblr community, edits, playlists, gif sets, a ship name all dedicated to them. The fandom grows after episode 5 airs. Not all the footage makes it, thanks to Eddie, but they still witness him tenderly taking care of Steve and directing the cameras away. Fans start scouring their social medias, looking for any hint of their relationship status; even beg them in comments and DMs to reveal if it was just a showmance.
Eddie and Steve, however, are happy in the quiet little world the carved out for themselves after filming. They aren't ready to reveal anything, even hints, whether or not the show would let them.
Then, the final airs and the kiss is revealed to the world. The ending title cards show a picture of Steve with the rest of the season's bakers and the caption, "Steve threw a party for the other bakers..."
The picture then changes to one of he and Eddie, arms wrapped around each other. This caption says: "...at the home he shares with his boyfriend Eddie."
That night, in bed, Steve says, "I'm really glad Robin and the kids made me go on the show. But do you think it's bad that the thing I'm happiest about, way more than winning, is that I met you?"
Eddie places a slow circle of kisses in the dip of Steve's lower back. "Sweetheart, I'd be disappointed if you said anything else. Now, hush, I have a baking champion to congratulate."
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