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Mariahās reactions during Miss Holloween are fucking hysterical
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percy:
also percy:
hung from the edge of tartarus for almost five minutes with the weight of annabeth and the forces of tartarus and arachne, jumped off several cliffsides of several hundreds of feet without explanation (even in cases where there was no water at the bottom), oh and also held up the weight of the sky, if that wasn't enough
but okay, skinny legend, we DEFINITELY believe you š¤Øš/j
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I recently had surgery, and at the time I came home, I had both my cat and one of my grandma's cats staying with me.
- Within hours of surgery, I wake up from a nap to my cat gently sniffing at my incisions with great alarm.
- I was not allowed to shower the first day after surgery, and the cats, seeing that The Large Cat is not observing its cleaning ritual, decided I must be gravely disabled and compensated by licking all the exposed skin on my arms, face, and legs.
- I currently have to sleep with a pillow over my abdomen because my cat insists on climbing on top of me and covering my incisions with her body while I sleep (which is very sweet but not exactly comfortable without the pillow). She also lays across me facing my bedroom door, presumably on guard for attackers who may try to harm me while I'm sleeping and injured.
That's love. šāā¬šā¤ļø
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All beautiful longing looks aside, if I had to describe this ship using one single screenshot this would be it hands down
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sobbing and crying at the woman who stole a meth addicted kitten from her dealer and then she and the kitten got clean together
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this started as a joke but then i started actually thinking about it and now im really annoyed that IDs have this one letter that doesnt mean anything for cis people and is a huge pain in the ass for trans people when we could instead have literally lifesaving information so emergency medical services could just check ur wallet to see which blood to give you so you dont die or whatever But No
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It's 3am. It's pouring down rain. Steve's soaked to the skin, been wandering the city for most of the night, hasn't slept in almost 24 hours, thinks maybe he's on the brink of delirium, and then a truck hits a pool of ponded water, sending a muddy wave cascading over him.
He just wants to go home but Dustin lost his dog and he can't leave a puppy out in this weather.
Steve steps off the curb, and what looks like a shallow puddle turns out to be a water-filled hole. He crashes towards the pavement, nothing he can do to stop it. As fast he's falling, he's miraculously not, arms wrapped around his waist. It takes a second for his brain to catch up, to understand that he's being held upright in an old-fashioned, romantic dip.
"Careful, sweetheart," a deep and smoke raspy voice says from above him.
it sends chills down his spine, the good kind, and warmth slips through him. His rescuer is a solid 10 knockout. Long, curly hair; eyeliner; decked out in leather and studs and chains. He smells like booze and cigarettes and weed, and it's intoxicating. Steve has to fight the instinct to nuzzle the guy's leather jacket. He's beautiful, holds Steve with the swagger only a guy with rings on every finger could pull off.
And Steve is a mud soaked mess in sweatpants and a threadbare Hawkins High tee. But the guy holding him isn't letting go. He stares down at Steve, brown eyes wide.
"Steve!" A voice calls over the patter of the rain.
"Dustin?" He says at the same time that the man holding him says, "Henderson?"
"Eddie?" Dustin asks.
"Wait, dnd Eddie?" Steve gets his feet under him, but Eddie's arms don't drop.
"You're the famous babysitter Steve I've been hearing all about?"
They gape at each other until Dustin reaches them.
"What are you still doing out here?" Dustin shouts. "We found Dart hours ago."
"Dustin!" He thinks he might cry. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You weren't answering your walkie!"
"Fuck." Steve drops his face to his hand. The walkie. Which is on the table by the front door where he and Robin leave their keys.
Steve swallows his frustration, the misery of waterlogged shoes, having to be up to open the store in a few hours, meeting the hottest guy he's ever seen when he looks like a drowned rat.
"I promised I'd find Dart, didn't I? Now what the hell are you doing out so late?"
"Mom and I were looking for you!"
"Let's get you back to the car, man, okay?" Steve says to Dustin. He wants to end this weird, terrible, embarrassing night before it gets even more humiliating.
"I can give you a ride home," Eddie says. He's got this weird, intense look on his face, staring at Steve.
"I'm only a few blocks away. I'll be fine. C'mon, Henderson."
"Oh, I can walk him. You head home."
He nods, starts towards his apartment, but turns back just in time to see Eddie and Dustin share a look he can't parse.
---
A few days later, Dustin's following him around at work, chattering about dnd as Steve shelves books, and without taking a breath during a soliloquy about owl bears, says, "Eddie's running a one-shot for us next week. You should come! It's a great way to get into the game."
"I'm not playing dnd," Steve answers. He slides a book onto the shelf. "I've told you this."
"Yeah, but you liked Eddie, right? He'd help you out!"
Steve squints at the kid. "I didn't really meet Eddie to know. Anyway, I'm sure he doesn't want a newbie crashing."
Steve is pretty sure Eddie doesn't like him, based on their short introduction, so he's not interested in forcing himself into the guy's dnd club. The night they met was humiliating enough, Steve in all his dorky glory.
"No, he totally wouldn't care. C'mon, Steve!"
"No can do." He ruffles Dustin's hair as he walks away.
He thinks that'll be the end of it, but every few days, for weeks Dustin and all the rest of the kids stop at the store to beg him to join their dnd club.
---
Steve is working the register and he hears the shuffling clank of a customer, looks up and finds Eddie. He's staring at Steve with that same look from the night they met, intense and piercing, cutting straight through the heart of him. He feels himself start to blush.
The first thing out of Eddie's mouth is, "Wait, this is your store?"
"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Is that--is that weird?"
"No! Not at all. It's a good store. Cute." His nose wrinkles when he says it and Steve's blush grows hotter. He knew Eddie thought he was a dork.
"Cute. Yeah. Right. Can I help you with something?"
Eddie rocks back on his heels, hands going to the pockets of his leather jacket, sending his chains jingling. "Oh, so, actually I wanted to see if you were busy?"
"Yeah, man. I'm busy." He laughs, doesn't intend to be mean about it, but he and Robin only opened the store six months ago and both take night classes at the local community college. Plus, everything he does with the kids.
Eddie's face flushes bright. "Oh, sure, of course. Yeah, I--I'll see you around."
The door thunks to a close behind him, and a voice immediately pops up to ask, "What the hell was that?"
He turns to find Max Mayfield hands on hips, glaring up at him, Robin close behind.
"Shouldn't you be in school?"
Max rolls her eyes and strides up to the counter. "Why were you an asshole to Eddie?"
"He started it!"
"I highly doubt that."
"Okay, Ms. Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what happened?"
"I know for a fact that Eddie came in today to ask you out. So, tell me, Steve Harrington, why he rushed out of here looking like a kicked puppy?"
"What?" He yelps. "Eddie doesn't even like me!"
She glares. "Doesn't like you? He's been pathetic about you since you met."
He gapes at Robin. "Don't look at me," she shrugs. "But that guy was definitely here to ask you out."
"Fix it." Max commands as she stomps out the door. "He bar tends at that metal place on 68th."
---
It's just after 9pm and he's at the metal bar on 68th, decidedly out of place in the yellow t-shirt and jeans he wore to his business accounting class.
It's fairly busy for a weeknight, but Eddie's not hard to find. He's obviously in his element, bobbing his head to a song Steve's never heard as he mixes a drink.
With a hard swallow and a healthy dose of humility, he walks up to the bar.
"Be right--" Eddie starts, balking when he notices Steve.
"Can we talk?" he shouts over the music.
Eddie's eyes widen a little, but he nods, slips out from behind the bar to guide him to an employee exit.
"What's up, Steve?" Eddie asks. His hands are in his pockets, shoulders bowed in.
"I wanted to apologize."
"What for?"
"Earlier, I--when you said the store was cute I thought you were making fun of me."
"But--why?"
"I thought you didn't like me." Steve cringes at the admission.
"What?" He laughs.
"I don't know. We met in the middle of the night and I was covered in mud looking for a dog that wasn't lost anymore."
"Steve. Holy shit." Eddie shakes his head. "You looked gorgeous that night. The way your clothes were sticking--you know what? Never mind. Did you think I wanted you to come to dnd because I hated you?"
"You wanted me to come?"
"Dustin didn't..."
"No! And he's been asking me to play dnd weekly for the past five years."
"Jesus Christ," Eddie slumps agains the brick wall at his back. "No wonder you turned me down today."
"To be fair," Steve slumps next to him. "If I had realized you were asking me out, I wouldn't have turned you down."
"No?" Eddie asks. His brown eyes gleam.
"Definitely not. I've had a crush on you since that night. Sort of devastating since I thought you didn't like me." Steve runs his hand through his hair, watches Eddie track the movement.
"The store is cute, Steve. I--uh--I've been a few times. Back before I knew you were the owner! I just kept seeing a hot employee with great hair and a perfect ass, and the vaguely mean lesbian barista gives me free drinks."
"That's Robin," Steve says. He's smiling so hard.
"I know that now," Eddie smiles back. "Sorry for being an idiot."
"Me too." Steve nods. "Do you--could I still come to dnd? Or take you out sometime?"
"Why not both?" Dimples pop on Eddie's cheeks, and Steve's heart flips.
"I like both." They're still against the wall, but drifting into each other's space.
"So Dustin said."
It surprises a laugh out of Steve. "I'm gonna kill him."
"Too bad. He's a nice kid."
"Eh, we've got six more to choose from."
"I have a few more hours here, but there's a diner down the street that does some of the most mediocre pancakes I've ever tasted. Meet me there? Around 2?"
"A thousand lost puppies wouldn't make me miss it."
The next time Steve is out at 3am he's pressed against a building, Eddie kissing him so thoroughly he knows he's never recovering from this one.
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tags: steddie, nsfw, the homoeroticism of knowing you could treat them better
š„µšš¦
"Okay," Robin smirks at Eddie as she pops the open button on the microwave in Steveās kitchen, "But you understand how pathetically gay you sound right now, yes?" She pulls out a fragrant paper bag of popcorn; she says that she likes to have an extra bag before retiring after one of their movie nights.
Eddie scowls, forgetting that Steve's in the next room as he becomes revved up over a pet peeve that is less pet and more a wild animal, "It's not gay to appreciate a work of art." He gestures wildly, the lights above catch on his heavy silver rings, "It's not gay to understand that a sweet, beautiful boy is tragically unloved."
Robin snorts, pulling open the edges of the paper bag, releasing a plume of buttery steam, "No, pretty sure that's pretty gay. Next thing I know you'll declare 'no homo' while sucking his dick."
"I'd suck his dick better than Brittany or Betta or Betsy or whatever her name was," Eddie declares, sore at the memory of Steve's broken brow as he'd explained that his latest date had ridden his face and then gave him a pat on his shoulder, explaining that it was a nice time but not to expect a callback.
What an idiot, Eddie fumes to himself, neglecting to notice the shifting shadows in the hallway behind him; who doesn't enjoy a man who vehemently and vocally declares his love for going down on his partners? Eddie would kill for a partner willing to suck him dry.
Eddie may have blamed the deficiency on the female of the species, but Steve had allowed Eddie in the inner sanctum a few months ago: letting him know that it wasnāt only Robin and Eddie who were vehement friends of Dorothy, even if it was only Steve who enjoyed the full spectrum of the rainbow. And while B-whatever-her-name-was may be the source of Eddieās ire right now, he knows that Steve has had likewise lousy luck with men whenever theyād ventured for their weekend nights out to Indy.
Each and every time Eddie had to endure Steveās sad face a week or two later as heād admitted that he thought his nightās partner may be up for more than just a brief bit of fun. And each and every time heās been left dumbfounded becauseā
Eddie pulls at his hair, trying to work it out becauseā
Well. He can only imagine that every single person thatās walked away from Steveās beautiful lips couldnāt hit the broad side of a barn with a fucking canon with the intelligence left over in their little pea brains. Because Steve Harrington is a goddamn catch and every one of them has let him escape their grasp.
Eddieās too busy scowling down at his Reeboks to see Robin look over his shoulder and softly laugh. She scoops a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she swiftly leaves the kitchen, calling out, āIām claiming the spare bedroom tonightāthe one at the far endāsee ya.ā
Eddie looks up at the last minute, wondering at her sudden exit.
The air shifts again but Eddie doesnāt realise it until Steveās right behind him. "Her name was Bella," Seve says in a low caress, close enough that his warm breath rustles Eddie's loose curls.
He stops, frozen, the touch of Steve's words making Eddie ache for something that he's wanted for such a very long time even as heās unwilling to allow himself to think that Steve could mean anything by leaning in so close. But he canāt help but shiver, a tiny movement that brings his lips against Steve's sharp jaw, nearly stuttering, "Who?"
Strong arms wrap around him, bringing the broad planes of Steveās chest against Eddieās back, blunt fingers coming up to grip his jaw, directing Eddieās lips to just under Steveās.
Eddie freezes again in desperation, every single fantasy converging at once to break his brain and body while he tries to understand that the arms, hands and fingers wrapped around him are not an invention of a daydream.
"Iām saying,ā Steve says patiently, eyeing Eddie with a dark gaze over his firm grip, "That I want you. Not Brittany or Betta or Betsy."
Eddie swallows around the knot in his throat.
"Just you," Steve repeats, a steady weight holding down his words that has Eddieās gaze flying up to meet the hard pressure of hazel eyes bearing down on him. A force that has Eddieās heart knocking heavily against his ribs, his breath shuddering against his frame, pressing taut and bullying against the thin of Eddieās skin as he meets Steveās expectant gaze.
And suddenly Eddie is angry.
Furious.
Heās had to endure weeks and months of listening to Steve be sad. Listening to Steve tell of glum exploits where women and men havenāt appreciated his freely-given love. Where it hadnāt mattered how quickly and devotedly Steve would put himself forward, that his partner would pat him on the back and distance him or herself after.
Eddie is furious and he glares at Steveās beautiful hazel eyes, so close to his own and suddenly wide at the clear fury in Eddieās eyes. Steve stumbles back, āWhatā¦ā But Eddie lowers himself decisively, knees falling to the ground with a clear thump and thighs spreading as he knows with a deep conviction that heās finally interpreting Steveās actions correctly.
He looks up with dark eyes and presses into the tentative hand that falls against Eddieās nape; Steveās brows pull together, doubt drawing at them, āEddieā¦ā
Eddie glares up at Steve with all the strength of emotion running through him like the swift currents of a river. āNo Steve, thatās it. Thatās fucking it.ā
He determinedly wraps his fingers around the zipper of Steveās Leviās and, as Steve chokes out his name again, Eddie glares up at him, daring Steve to take his prize away. āNo, Iām done. Youāve given me permission now. Youāve given me a sliver of hope, and youāre not fucking taking it away.ā
Eddie swiftly draws down the zipper, pulling down denim and soft cotton until Steveās already hard cock bobs in front of him and he reaches forward quickly, hand already at its base and mouth open as heās about to swallow him down but Steveās hand buries itself in Eddieās curls, gripping him tight.
āDo you want me?ā Steve breathes and Eddie somehow finds it in himself to glower deeper, scowling up at Steve while refusing to speak. Inching forward until the tip of Steveās cock hovers over Eddieās open mouth. Steve curses and a heavy pearl of fluid drops from the tip to Eddieās outstretched tongue. Eyes closing in contentment, he hears Steve choke as Eddie almost hums around the welcome flavour.
āRight,ā Steve rasps roughly before pushing forward to rest against Eddieās lips, he traces the heavy beads from his weeping slit against the petals of his mouth, breath running ragged before pressing further.
Eddie gasps, stretching his lips wide and pushing in and forward to embrace the cock intruding his mouth. His lashes flutter as he finally has the heavy weight of Steveās cock resting on his tongue, stretching his mouth obscenely open before peering up to check where Steveās at.
He neednāt have worried because Steveās own mouth is hanging open with eyes darkly trained on Eddie. āSo fucking pretty,ā Steve gasps, gripping Eddieās head to pull him closer. Choking Eddie as he moans, āYes, fucking, yes, baby. Take it.ā And Eddie does. Gratefully. Happily. Fucking swallows and devours and pistons back and forward until the bitter musk dripping from Steveās dick is greedily consumed, taken within.
Steve cries out, throbbing powerfully and pouring into Eddie. Spilling and overflowing, fucking against his face until beads flood and stream out of his mouth. Eddie lets out a long, guttural and broken sound, grateful for the blessing that Steve fills him with.
Heās so consumed with the feel of Steve in him, surrounding him, that he barely registers the hardness in his own black denim until Steve drops to his knees too, meeting Eddie face to face before falling forward, fingers working his zipper open and mouth swallowing him whole.
Eddie gasps at the sudden sensation of the hot welcoming cavern of Steveās mouth. He bucks, lightning shooting up his spine and overwhelmed at the attention as he thrusts once, twice and another before shuddering as he releases into Steveās warm embrace.
Gasping, Eddieās head falls forward to stare down at Steve in wonderment. In clear awe as he stares down at the beautiful boy in his lap. Mind blissed but still a niggle worries at the back of his mind, enough to have his hand reaching forward to Steveās face, cupping his cheek and bringing him up to meet Eddie.
āSweetheart,ā the endearment drops from Eddieās mouth without his permission.
Steveās lips tug up, spreading in a grin and widening his eyes, āYou want me, donāt you?ā He asks, almost breathless.
āYes. Fucking yes.ā Eddie has nothing but honesty to his name at this point.
Steve smiles. Smug and fucking so proud of himself. He leans forward, āThen take me,ā he whispers.
And Eddie does.
ā¤ļø More steddie here
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every time i see someone saying that nightmare time is optional my heart breaks a little
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So this started out as some scribbly thoughts on FTM Steve and devolved a little bit into smutty Steddie rambling. As happens. So anyway, explicit text below the cut, click through at your own discretion, et cetera
Warnings(?) for some clumsy language and hints of period-typical transphobia; some discussion of Steve and Nancy together, but only for Steddie purposes. This is mostly just silly
-
āSo, wait, you slept with how many girls in high school, and still managed to keep this a secret?ā Eddie asks, brows climbing his forehead.
āNot as many as rumor wouldāve had you think.ā Steve shrugs. āLike maybe four? The rest, I justā¦ didnāt discourage when they exaggerated. Helped my image.ā
Eddie canāt help but snort. Heās glad Steve outgrew that image. āStill, four is a lot to keep a lid on. All of them agreed not to tell and then just ā didnāt?ā
āActually, most of them never found out. It was onlyāā Steve pauses, eyeing Eddie cautiously, as if talking about his past female sexual conquests with his current boyfriend is fine, but what heās going to say next will be a bridge too far. āIt was only Nancy who ever knew.ā
Ah.
Ah, yes. Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. Steveās one true love.
Until now, Eddie fiercely reminds himself. He eyes the t-shirt that is very much his that Steve is very much wearing and slides over the jealousy to address his more pressing question.
āOkay, how did you have sex with at least three other people without them finding out you donāt have aāā Eddie stops short, fumbles for a moment, āa, uh, conventional dick?ā
Keep reading
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Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope
cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse
-
The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, āshit,ā and then silence.
āSteve?ā Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. āYou okay?ā
āYeah,ā Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isnāt okay.
Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been āgiftedā by the government isnāt exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.
āHey,ā Eddie says, but Steve doesnāt look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. āYouāre not cut or anything, are you?ā
āNo,ā Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesnāt sound like heās lying.
āWhat was that, anyway?ā Eddie asks.
Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. āMug.ā
As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. āShit, the Campbellās one?ā
Steve doesnāt say a word, just gives one sharp nod.
Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. āShit,ā he says again. āThat was Wayneās favorite.ā
āI know,ā Steve says tersely. āIām sorry.ā
His tone is definitely weird. āI mean, Iām sure it was an accident, Steveāā Eddie starts.
āIām sorry,ā Steve says again, almost snapping this time. āIāll clean it up.ā
āO-kay,ā Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.
āIāll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,ā Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasnāt said a word.
āHe gets home at, like, six in the morning.ā
āIāll make sure Iām up,ā Steve says shortly.
āSteve, you can just tell him what happened later, heās not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if youāre not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?ā Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. āā¦he wonāt be, yāknow.ā
Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.
āHey, donātāā Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. āYou donāt have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.ā
Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. āIām not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,ā he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.
āIām not suggesting we hide it, Iām just saying we might still be able to use it,ā Eddie answers in the same slow manner. āItās not junk until youāre sure you canāt fix it.ā
āRight,ā Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. āCanāt even clean up right.ā
Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steveās continued sour mood. āI didnāt say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.ā
āFine. Weāll try to fix it,ā Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.
Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steveās got himself worked into. āWhat happened, anyway?ā he asks instead.
Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.
āWhat happened is, Iām too stupid to even do the dishes right,ā Steve declares as he whirls back around. āIs that what you want to hear?ā
āWhat?ā Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadnāt even realized was happening. āNo! Why would I want to hear that?ā
Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. āWell I already said Iām sorry, and I am, and I donāt know what else you want from me!ā
The heat of Eddieās own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesnāt know what the hell is going on and he doesnāt think getting angry will help. āI donāt want anything else from you! Why are you acting like Iām yelling at you? Iām not, Iām not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?ā
He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; itās not exactly a flinch, but itās as if heās bracing himself, as if heās waiting for Eddie toā
Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steveās pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he canāt quite seem to control, the way heās angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.
Itās as if heās waiting for Eddie to hit him.
Eddie wonders how the hell he hadnāt realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.
(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steveās anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)
(It takes him by surprise, but heās learning.)
āSteve,ā Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, āIām not angry.ā
Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddieās not doing it right, like this isnāt whatās supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that heād like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harringtonās right hand, and then move on to his left).
āItās just a mug, Steve, itās okay. No oneās upset about it,ā Eddie says. āIām preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know heās not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?ā
Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.
āDoes that sound like something I would do?ā Eddie asks.
Steve shakes his head again, though heās still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.
āI promise itās fine. Iām not angry,ā Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.
Steve doesnāt react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steveās. Steve lets him.
When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steveās own, Eddie can feel how cold theyāve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and canāt quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steveās hand.
āCāmere,ā Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.
It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steveās shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddieās waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.
āThere you go,ā Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steveās back.
āI just dropped it,ā Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. āIt was an accident.ā
āI know it was,ā Eddie assures him. āItās okay.ā
āIt was an accident,ā Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him ā how often heād ever even been given a chance to explain.
āIt was an accident,ā Eddie agrees. āYouāre okay, Steve.ā
Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe heās trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddieās shoulder. āOkay.ā
In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; heāll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.
Heāll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that itās okay. Things will be okay.
[Prompt: Embracing your partner]
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thereās a website where you put in two musicians/artists and it makes a playlist that slowly transitions from one musicianās style of music to the otherās
itās really fun
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Top-Notch
written for @steddiemicrofic | prompt: top | wc: 510 | rated: E | cw: none | additional tags: no Upside Down/modern AU, top Eddie/bottom Steve, praise kink
āKeep the change,ā Eddie says, sliding double what he owes across the bar. āTop-notch service, sweetheart.ā
One of the perks of being a rich rockstar: he can tip as much as he damn well pleases (and, in the case of the handsome bartender working the practically empty hotel bar, whoās been flirting with him unceasingly, Eddie damn well pleases to tip a lot).
The bartender, Steve, reaches out and takes the money without once taking his eyes off of Eddie. āIs there anything else I can do for you tonight?ā he asks, and thereās really no mistaking his tone, or the way his tongue darts out to wet soft, pink lips. āIf I really wanted to go above and beyond?ā
āWellā¦ā Eddie draws it out, like he really has to think about it. āI think I could use a little help turning down the sheets. The bed in my room is awfully big.ā
Itās a terrible line, but Steve just smiles and tells him, āIām off at midnight.ā
-
Steve is perfect. Better than anything Eddie could have imagined, bitchy and bossy and beautiful, sitting in Eddieās lap and riding his cock like he was born for it.
Heās all tan skin stretched over lean muscle, dusted with hair and dotted liberally with moles and freckles, powerful thighs and a perfect, round ass that Eddieās hands have been glued to practically since his underwear came off.
āThatās it, baby,ā Eddie rasps, thrusting up hard to hear Steve moan. āDoing so good.ā
Steve lets out another noise at that, something almost like a whimper, and Eddie grins.
āYou like that?ā he asks, punctuating the question with a little squeeze to Steveās ass. āYou like it when I tell you what a good job youāre doing?ā
Almost hesitantly, Steve nods, and Eddie is sure to reward him.
āDo you want to hear how pretty you are, how perfect, fucking yourself on my cock?ā
āOh, fuck,ā Steve groans, hands clenching where heās braced against Eddieās chest.
āYou take it like a dream, Steve,ā Eddie croons, thrusting up to meet him on every downward stroke, aiming for that spot heād found earlier with just his fingers buried inside of Steve, the spot that had made him sing. āFucking mesmerizing, such a good fucking boy.ā
He knows heās struck gold when Steve cries out, head thrown back and showing off the arch of his throat as he works himself down faster, trying to keep Eddie right where it feels best.
āEddie,ā Steve begs, āfucking touch me.ā
Eddie canāt do anything but oblige, wrapping his hand around Steveās cock and tugging him until he comes hot across Eddieās belly, and then Eddie canāt do anything but follow, still pressed up deep inside of him, filling the condom with a groan.
āSo?ā Steve asks, some minutes later as he lies beside Eddie, still catching his breath. āHow was my service?ā
Eddieās head falls back against the pillow with a laugh. āFive out of five stars, sweetheart. Gonna write you the best fucking Yelp review youāve ever had.ā
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