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#sorry steve but you're still high up there
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Good People
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.
Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.
He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.
Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.
Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.
"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.
"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.
A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."
"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."
"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.
"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"
"Well, because he's your family."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."
"That's different!"
"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.
"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."
"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"
"Yes!"
"But why?" Eddie presses.
"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"
"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."
"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."
"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."
Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.
"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."
"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."
"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."
Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.
"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."
"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"
"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.
Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.
He's got some thinking to do.
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mcdynamite · 4 months
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Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.
It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.
Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.
They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.
The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.
Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.
"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."
Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.
"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"
Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?
"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"
Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."
And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"
The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.
"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 
And Steve's eyes fly open.
Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.
It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.
Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...
It's longing.
"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."
"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"
"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."
Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.
"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."
Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.
"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"
Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."
Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.
"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.
Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"
Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-
Oh.
That's what Steve wants, isn't it?
"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.
"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.
He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."
Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...
Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.
They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.
This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.
Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.
This isn't just anyone.
This is Eddie.
And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.
He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.
He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 
"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.
And Eddie is wiping away his tears.
"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.
Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.
Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."
Steve's breath hitches.
"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."
He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"
"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."
"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.
He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.
What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.
"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."
His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.
It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...
His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.
"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.
Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.
"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.
Steve is helpless but to obey.
Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.
"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."
The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.
"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.
"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"
Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.
"Just want you," he says.
Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.
"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.
"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."
"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."
Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.
Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.
Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.
"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.
Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.
Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.
Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.
"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.
Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.
"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."
And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.
So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.
He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.
Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.
When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.
When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.
He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.
And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.
Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.
"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.
"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.
Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.
He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.
"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.
And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 
Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.
And Eddie?
Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.
It’s perfect.
It’s earth-shattering.
It’s everything.
--
Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!
For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!
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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months
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Steve Harrington x shy fem!reader [4.7K] no one's ever gone down on you before and you're feeling a little shy about it. luckily, boyfriend steve is happy to show you what it's like. 18+
“I’ve never—” you swallowed, unsure of your words, hardly able to make sense of them when Steve Harrington was on his knees in front of you. “I mean, no one’s ever done this to me before.”
Steve Harrington. The Steve Harrington - as if he hadn’t officially been your boyfriend for almost two months now. Sometimes it was difficult to remind yourself of that, that the prettiest boy in town was all yours. 
He’d changed since high school, was a little softer around the edges now, if you had the patience to look for the signs. Less cocky, still confident, but he’d dropped the title of ‘King’ like it stung him, taking on a gentlemanly demeanour that was much more princely. His hair wasn’t as styled, he didn’t care whatever other people said - not as much, anyway. 
It suited him, this smaller crown. Less showy but still just as golden. 
“Oh,” Steve replied, eyes wide with surprise but not judgement. “Shit, honey— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… assume.”
Steve took his hands from your bare knees like he’d been burned, his cheeks heated and his gaze apologetic. You couldn’t say anything in response fast enough before the boy was pushing himself up from the footwell of the BMW and back onto the seat with you. He looked panicked, like he’d done something wrong, like he’d done something terrible. 
“Steve—”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked, I didn’t even think— well, I just thought—”
“It’s not like I’ve not done anything,” you were rambling. Panicked. “I’m not a virgin, I would’ve told you— it’s just, I haven’t— no guy has ever wanted to do that and—“
“No, no, it’s okay!” Steve still looked wide eyed, like you were going to hate him, like you were going to break up with him. “I mean, that part isn’t okay— the guys you’ve been with should’ve definitely wanted to do that for you— but it’s, it’s… just should’ve asked before—”
He hadn’t done anything wrong, you needed him to know that. It had been a typical end to your night, first dates leading to second dates and more - fancy dinners and planned nights to the cinema and turning into comfier and more casual outings as you grew closer. So he’d picked you up after his shift and you clambered into the front seat of his car in a pair of comfy sweats and a t-shirt that was far too old. Steve had driven you both to a burger joint, shared fries and a strawberry milkshake in the front seats of the BMW as the sun went down and before it was time to go home, he parked up somewhere quiet enough for talking to turn into kissing. 
He was always sweet about it, letting you call the shots and set the pace and you’d grown bolder, learned what he’d liked — learned what you’d liked. 
But it had stayed relatively tame, a few hickeys and Steve’s hair a mess but nothing too below the waistline, not yet. 
It was why he’d been so surprised when you’d pushed him back into the seat, his head falling back in shock onto the headrest, the back windows already steaming up from the heat of it all. Steve’s lips had parted when you’d swung a leg over his lap, dropping yourself on top of him with a held breath, your chest tight enough to burn. And without any other preamble, you’d launched yourself forward again, sweet and teasing kisses turning into something hotter, more desperate, now that you could feel the hard length of him pressed against the cotton of your underwear. 
His hands had flown to your bare thighs, gripping you there as you licked over his tongue and when you let out a quiet moan, Steve felt like he was going to lose it. His hands wandered higher, skimming along bare skin and underneath your skirt until his palms found purchase on your ass, squeezing at the fat there, helping your hips move against him until you were panting into his mouth and he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. 
Everything he’d done wrong in his life, everything he’d tried to right, everything he’d tried to fix - you were his reward, he just knew it. 
He got ahead of himself then, panicked at the feeling of you rutting along his cock, the length of it pressed under his jeans and you. He could feel how warm you were, the beginnings of a wet spot on the front of your underwear and you were holding his face in your hands as you kissed him like you were scared he’d stop. 
It was enough to make his dick jump, twitching and leaking at every pretty sound you made, every graze of your teeth over his bottom lip as you kissed him more and more feverishly. 
He was going to come, he could feel it. He knew it. The warm, tightening sensation at the base of his spine was blooming, his cheeks turning pink, his hips bucking into yours helplessly. He wasn’t going to come in his pants, not in the backseat of his car, not like this, not with you. You deserved more than that. 
That’s when he nudged you back onto the bench and dropped to his knees between the seats, crammed down into the footwell but your legs were spread and he could see that little damp spot on the crotch of your underwear. 
He wanted to lick over the cotton, tease himself as much as you before peeling the underwear down your legs and pocketing the material.
And then you’d stopped him. 
“I want to,” you told him earnestly, your voice a nervous whisper. He watched you lick your bottom lips, eyes wide and trained on his. “I do. I wanna do everything with you,” you admitted shyly. 
You paused and Steve waited, kneeling up between your legs so his attention wasn’t as trained on the space between your thighs anymore. He leaned in, hands pushing at your cheeks, your jaw, fingers skimming soothingly over the skin there.
“It’s okay,” Steve assured you, his voice just as soft. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose bumping yours as he dropped another to the opposite side. “It’s okay to wait. I don’t mind-- at all, actually. You’re in charge here, okay?”
You leaned into him in lieu of an answer, lips searching for his and brows knitted together because he was just too fucking sweet to handle. Embarrassment still bloomed in your chest at the situation, at your own admission and you wanted to hide your face against Steve’s but the boy wasn’t having any of it. 
He pulled away, chin tilting up to where you couldn’t quite reach him and he frowned at your saddened expression. 
“Hey,” Steve tsked softly. “C’mon, you’re in charge, yeah?” He waited, looking at you with earnest, expectant eyes. 
You nodded and cleared your throat, nerves and embarrassment swallowed with it because this was Steve. Your Steve. And he was looking at you like he’d give you the sun. 
“Yeah,” you agreed and Steve smiled so you did too. “I’m in charge.”
It was only then that the boy leaned back into you, letting you press your lips to his for a kiss. He made it soft and sweet, languid and still tasting like the cherry you’d gifted him from the top of your strawberry shake. 
——————
It took a few weeks to end back up in the same situation, this time in Steve’s bed. 
There’d been a movie, you think, something that was supposed to be new and funny but you barely made it past the opening scene before you kicked away the remote control and moved into the boy. On your knees, weight pressed into the mattress and your mouth pushed to Steve’s because ever since that night in the back of his car, the sight of him on his knees for you hadn’t left your mind. 
If Steve had been surprised at your sudden attack, he didn’t say. In fact, he welcomed it greedily, just as starved for you as you were for him and he pulled you down to meet him without much fanfare. 
It was easier now, you were less shy, more willing to show your boyfriend how much you wanted him too. You showed him with greedy kisses, feverish and desperate, your hands sinking into his hair as Steve coaxed you onto his waiting lap, his hands skimming over your waist and your hips and the swell of your ass. You pushed him into his pillows without much thought, Steve’s hands taking you with him, lips never parting as he groaned into your open mouth and your tongue traced over his. 
He was already hard, you’d noticed, the feeling of him in his sweats pressed between your thighs sparking the similar feeling in your tummy, the one you always seemed to get the minute the boy got his hands on you. Steve never seemed embarrassed either, always eager to show you exactly what you did to him and apart from a few fumbles in the dark, Steve’s hands slipping under your shirt to flirt with your pebbled nipples over your bra, there hadn’t been much else but kissing. 
Tonight felt different. 
You wanted tonight to be different. 
So you did as you’d done on the car the week before, rolling your hips over Steve’s as you kissed him harder, nose pressed to his cheek as you pulled at his hair and hoped he’d fall apart for you. He did, or almost did, groaning louder than before and gripping your waist almost too tightly as he tried not to jerk up into you. 
He lost it a little, hands slipping to your ass to palm at the bare skin peeking out from beneath your shorts, blunt nails scratching nicely over your upper thighs. Steve heaved out a breath, pulling back just enough to look up at you. He was all pink, flushed cheeks and messy hair pushed to his pillows, lips shiny from your kisses as he tried to slow his breathing. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” he rasped, trying to sound authoritative but his fingers were trailing inside the legs of your shorts to play with the elastic edge of your underwear and he couldn’t take his eyes off of your heaving chest. “I swear, you’re actually trying to kill me.”
You grinned, still shy, still a little embarrassed at the effect Steve had on you, the effect you seemed to have on him. But despite your boyfriend’s suggestive touch, he didn’t stray any further. You remembered what he’d told you that night, eyes locked on yours, filled with sincerity. 
‘You’re in charge.’
You swallowed, throat tight, trying your best to conjure up some bravery from the pit of your stomach. “Hey, Steve?”
Steve was busying himself at your neck, lips pressing kisses to the sensitive skin underneath your jaw and chin. He hummed, a silent question, a barely there answer and you almost forgot what you wanted to say when he nipped at your neck. 
“Yeah, honey?”
“Remember— remember the other night? When you said… that I was in charge?” You asked quietly, head ripping back to let Steve do what he wanted, his lips still on your throat. “When you were gonna— uh, gonna go down on me?”
Steve paused but only for a second, seemingly deciding that reacting too strongly to your words would be a bad move. So he placed one last kiss underneath your jaw and then pulled back to meet your gaze. He was soft and warm, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were comfortable and when he found what he was looking for, he nodded. 
“Yeah, yeah I remember.” He pushed you from his lap and back onto the bed, gentle and soft with it, easing you back into the pillows so he could lean over you and place a reassuring hand on your waist. “You been thinkin’ about that?”
You were grateful to be off of him, too pent up with being on top and feeling how hard you’d made Steve, finding it easier now to look up at him, your hands playing with the hem of his t-shirt. “A little,” you murmured. And then you corrected yourself. “A lot.”
Steve grinned, unable to help it and you were adorably shy even when talking about him putting his mouth on you but it just made him all the more wild at the thought. He moved his hand to your tummy, fingers moving over the soft pudge of it, his thumb stroking close to the waistband of your shorts. 
“Yeah?” He asked again, sounding eager now, sounding hopeful. “What about it, babe? Steve watched you stall, lips moving without words coming out and he smiled, making it easier for you when he said, “you wanna try it?”
You could feel yourself burning, a little in embarrassment but mostly at the idea of it. You’d spent many nights since it was first brought up lying in bed and picturing your boyfriend between your legs. You’d thought about his hands on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could lean in and press his lips to you. You wondered what his tongue would feel like there, if he’d be soft, if you’d like it hard, slow, gentle, teasing. Would he use his fingers? Would he look up at you while he did it? Would he make the same noises he did when you kissed him? When you rocked your hips over his lap and grinded against him?
You nodded, the breath sucked from your lungs. Suddenly, the room was too warm and it only got hotter when Steve grinned and moved to kiss you, peppering little touches of his lips over your cheeks, your nose and jaw. 
“You gotta tell me then, honey, yeah?” Steve murmured softly. “Just so I know you’re okay with it. I don’t want to make you feel like it’s something you have to do—”
“I know,” you interrupted. You sat up a little, back to Steve’s headboard as you made sure to keep eye contact with him. He needed to know how okay with it you were. “You’re not making me do anything, I promise. I want to. I really want to.” You smiled then, nervous and excited and with your skin rippling with anticipation. 
“Okay,” Steve smiled back. “You’ll tell me if you don’t like it? We can stop whenever you want, alright?”
You nodded again and before Steve needed to prompt you once more, you promised him, “I will, I swear.” Your cheeks warmed again at the memory of your nightly scenarios. “I think I’ll like it though.”
Steve laughed then, not at all meanly. “Yeah? Well, that’s a good start.” He caught your wrist with his hand, pressed a kiss to your palm like a promise. “I’ll try my best, yeah? We can find out what you like together.”
And didn’t that sound really fucking nice? 
His hand moved to your waistband again, fingers skimming over the denim before finding the button and zip. Steve tapped it, eyes on yours. He raised his brows and asked, “can I?”
You answered by lifting your hips, falling back into his pillows once more as you sucked in a breath, buzzing with anticipation. Steve fumbled with the metal once, twice, before it popped open and he took his time tugging the denim from your hips. You panicked a little as you tried to remember what underwear you were wearing but you didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before your shorts were at your ankles and then on Steve’s bedroom floor. 
He smiled at your cotton boy shorts, plain and white. Nothing sexy but certainly nothing embarrassing either. But then he was moving, just like you’d imagined, up onto his knees before laying down between your own on his stomach. 
“You okay for me to be like this?” Steve asked you quietly, a reassuring hand squeezing at the outside of one thigh. 
 Your brows rose at that and you suddenly felt horribly naive. “There’s other ways to do it?”
Steve laughed again, soothing away the sting of his amusement by kissing your knee. “Well, yeah, babe. Loads of ways.” His voice lowered a little, his hands trailing upupup until they were close to the elastic edge of your underwear. “I could have you on your hands and knees for me. Could bend you over, y’know?”
Your body lit up, flames licking at the inside of  your stomach until they were crawling past your ribs. The idea of it made you squirm, hips twitching under Steve’s touch and he looked delighted at your reaction. 
“Or I could get you to sit on my face,” another kiss, this time on the inside of your thigh as he moved closer, your legs over his shoulders. The tip of his nose pushed at the edge of your underwear and your toes curled into the sheets. “Really let you take charge. Would you like that? Wanna ride my face, honey?”
“I—” you didn’t know what to say to that and Steve buried his smile in the side of your thigh. 
“S’okay,” he whispered. “We’ll work up to that, yeah? How ‘bout for now, I just—” Steve pressed a kiss just under your belly button, lips flirting lower until you felt his mouth just above your folds. Something in your stomach flipped. “—find out what you like best, hm?”
And he did. 
You were surprised when he didn’t immediately pull off your underwear and the noise that came from your mouth when he put his lips on you was unintelligible. Steve pressed a kiss to the front of your underwear, nose nudging at your folds under the cotton. You let out a gasp, breathy and high, hips twitching up until you were pushing yourself to Steve’s mouth and you could feel his smile. 
“Hey, hey, s’alright, honey,” Steve assured you. “Gonna take my time with you.”
Another kiss, and then another, tiny touches pressed over the front of your underwear before you felt the heat from this mouth opening, his tongue tracing the line of your folds. The cotton grew even more damp as Steve licked at you, pushing his tongue into your pussy, the material moving under his touch, moulding to your skin.  
You were gripping the sheets now, knees falling open on each side of Steve’s face and you didn’t dare look down, not yet. Your eyes shut on their own accord, stars and colours blinking behind your lids and everything felt warm, everything felt fuzzy, like you had cotton balls stuffed in your ears and you were being pulled underwater. 
Except there was a live wire in the pool with you, zaps racing through the current to make your entire body buzz, little electrical shocks every time Steve licked at you. His tongue moved deliberately slow, his eyes watching your face, your body, your chest, your mouth for every reaction you gave him. 
You liked this teasing, this slow build, this lazy burn that was getting hotter and hotter. So Steve kept at it, pressing his mouth to your cunt, open and with his tongue pushed to you, doing his best to find your clit through your underwear and when he finally pulled back, he groaned at the sight. The white fabric had turned a little see through, translucent in the low bedroom light and Steve could see every part of you with your legs spread so obscenely. 
It was a dirty, dirty sight. Something right out of his porno magazines he kept hidden under his bed. The material was stuck to you, showing off your parted folds, the bump of your clit, your little hole, wetter than any other part of you. 
“Oh, honey,” Steve moaned, his voice a broken rasp. You looked down at him then, messy haired and pink cheeked and framed by your thighs. He was staring at your cunt, heavy lidded and with red, pouty lips that were already shining from his hard work. “Wish you could see yourself, you’re so fucking hot.”
You whined, embarrassed but not daring to hide your face from him - to hide Steve from you. He looked up at you then, smiling - no, smirking - looking too pleased with himself and he took his pointer finger and stroked it through your folds. You jumped, an immediate response that Steve cooed at and he didn’t stop until his finger was resting on your clit. It was already throbbing, a hot pulse under his touch and he circled it carefully, slow and gentle and giving it pretty, little nudges. 
Steve watched it move under his finger, watched it become more obvious through the fabric and his lips parted as he looked at you. He couldn’t stay away for too long, moving his face back to you to press a kiss to it. 
“Good?” He asked you, checking in with a kiss to your thigh as well. “You doin’ okay?”
You groaned your answer, your ‘yes’ coming out high and needy. But that’s all Steve needed to hear before he let his tongue drag across you again, the flat of it pushing against your clit, his fingers pulling at the waistband of your underwear so the fabric was pulled even tighter against your pussy. He moaned into you when you whined, nose buried in your folds as he pursed his lips around your clit and sucked a little. 
Again, he moved away, leaving you panting, gasping, his hands tugging at your underwear again, his eyes lighting up at the way the fabric stretched over you. He swore, voice low and dirty. “Fuck, baby, I can see you clenching down for me. That feels good, huh? Getting those cute, little panties soaked for me.”
You weren’t sure where your sweet, soft boyfriend had gone, but you certainly didn’t mind this replacement. Steve looked wild, drunk on the sight of you and you were more than happy to lay back and let him toy with you, his fingers and tongue winding you tight like screw top, ready to be sent spinning. 
Your hands went from the sheets to Steve’s hair, grabbing at the beats strands, in desperate need to anchor yourself to him. You almost wanted  to pull him up your body, having him crawl back up to you so you could claim him for a kiss. The need to have him closer was burning. But then Steve took pity, fingers curling into the sides of your now soaked underwear and you didn’t hesitate to lift your hips for him. 
They were pulled down quickly and they soon joined your shorts on the floor and before the boy could ask, your legs fell open once more, shyness gone in the heady need for the pleasure the boy was giving you. Steve beamed, lying back between your thighs and his eyes greedy, taking in all your slick, bare skin. 
“Oh, there’s a good girl,” he hummed, his hand smoothing up each side of your waist, taking your shirt with it. “Play with your tits, honey, lemme see them, yeah?”
You did as you were told, face burning as you pushed up your t-shirt and wrestled the cups of your bra out of the way, tits spilling out of them. Your hands shook a little as you pressed them together, hard nipples peeking through your fingertips and it was all filth, a lewd, pornographic scene that you wanted to give Steve. 
“Ohh,” the boy moaned in appreciation, the sound rumbling in his chest and he rutted down into the mattress, seeking relief on his hard cock that was straining between his waistband and his stomach. “Look at you, Christ. You’re so damn pretty, you know that? Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?”
You nodded, whining until your words were just noise but they all sounded very much agreeable. So Steve ducked his head back down and used one of his hands to pull your leg out further, spreading you wide as he kissed a line from your entrance to your clit. And just when you thought he’d suck the little bundle past his lip, he let it go in favour of licking over your folds, left and the right - and the right up the centre of you with a wide, flat tongue. 
“Steve, Jesus fucking Christ,” you moaned loudly, jaw unhinged and head hanging back on his pillow even when your back arched for him. “That’s— fuck! Don’t stop.”
Steve soothed you with gentle hands on your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into the fat there and he hushed you. “M’not gonna stop, honey, don’t worry,” he spoke into you, lips pushing against your pussy with every word and you wanted to cry, you wanted to beg. “You wanna come already?”
It should’ve been a mocking thing to ask, the ‘already,’ holding so much amusement but you didn’t care. You couldn’t. Not when the boy was letting the soft tip of his tongue circle lazily around your clit, dragging it down to your neglected hole until he groaned when it clenched around him, his own hips bucking once more. 
“She’s so needy,” he whispered, in awe. “And so damn wet, Christ baby, you feel good?”
You nodded, head bobbing exuberantly as you propped yourself on your elbows to get a better look. Steve grinned up at you and he nuzzled closer before bringing his hands to your cunt, thumbs spreading you open as he ordered, “keep your legs open, yeah? Good girl.”
And then he was closing his mouth around you, his tongue flattened against you as he sucked gently, the pressure of your clit being pulled into his mouth too much to handle. You keened, a high gasp that left your jaw hanging, eyes clenched shut in euphoria. The colours behind your eyelids turned to explosions, glitter in the air as Steve licked and sucked at you, the same pattern over and over again until you were pressing your heels into the bed and pushing back up to meet his tongue. 
“I’m— Steve? Steve, I’m gonna come—”
His answering groan was almost as loud as you, his hands leaving your folds so they could grab at your ass instead, fingers pressing almost bruisingly into each cheek so he could hold your squirming hips against him. He didn’t let up as you chanted his name, knees locking around his head like a vice and when you let out a high pitched wail, pushing at his forehead, he pulled back with a disbelieving laugh, a half gasp. 
“Holy shit,” he groaned, eyes roaming over how soaked you were, the way your chest heaved, how your heavy lidded eyes were set only on him. “That was so fucking hot, honey, like Jesus Christ—”
He didn’t get to finish as you grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt, hauling him up until he was frantically crawling over your body, his hands braced on the mattress as you pushed yourself up to meet him. You were both breathing heavily but you stole a kiss anyway, his lips slick and shiny and tasting like you. 
You found you didn’t mind at all, your body burning at the reminder of what he’d just done, the taste of yourself on his tongue and yours, the thrumming pulse of your orgasm still simmering through you. 
“Good?” Steve was grinning into the kiss, grunting and gasping when your teeth nipped at him, your tongue tracing the line of his cupid's bow, chasing your taste. “Fuck, baby—”
You nodded, nose bumping against his and you wanted to sob at how good he’d made you feel. Words didn’t seem enough to be able to express it. “Yeah, yeah, oh my god-- yeah, it was good.”
Steve was still beaming, more happy than smug, because you were elated, glowing from the high of it all and he’d done that for you. But before he could soothe you back down to earth with more kisses and soft hands, you were pushing him off of you and down onto the mattress. His cock was still throbbing and the taste of you still coated his tongue as you straddled him, your shirt falling back down to cover your pretty tits but he could see the shiny slick from your pussy peek out from under the hem of it as you sat on his lap.
He didn’t get a chance to question you. 
“I wanna return the favour,” you said quietly. Soft but determined. “Show me how.”
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luveline · 7 months
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hi jadey!! can i request something with steve? maybe where reader used to be in a relationship where the other person made her to do all the work ( put in the groceries, clean the house, etc.) and one day steve is taking care of some of the chores and reader freaks out cause she’s the one supposed to be doing it?? it’s just an idea, no pressure lovely! hope you’re having a good day 🫶🫶
ty gorgeous! fem!reader
Steve hums when he's busy. No pretentiousness, no shame, he sings lyrics, guitar, and occasionally drums, too. You can hear him in the kitchen singing that Van Halen song he loves, his voice twisted tight as he tries to hit a high note. 
"Are you making a sandwich?" you ask hopefully, hanging your coat on the hook as you trudge in from the front door. 
You're in the kitchen before Steve's collected the wits to answer you. Your jaw falls open. 
"Hey, babe," he says. It's difficult to tell if the pet name is joking or serious, Steve in his pyjamas with his sleeves rolled up, his lips quirked into a funny smile as though he's pleased to see you but confused at the same time. "No? Did you want one?" 
"What are you doing?"
Steve holds his games up in surrender, a cloth held in the left. "I'm wiping down the counters?" 
"Why?" 
"I do this every Friday before you get home." 
"What?" 
Steve takes the cloth to the sink to rinse it out. Bleach bubbles squeeze from the fabric. "Am I doing it wrong? This is how I always do it. Wipe the counters, vacuum, mop. Why are you back so early?" 
"Steve, you don't have to clean. I… that's my job." 
"Then what's mine?" he asks, turning off the faucet and dropping the wet cloth at the bottom of the basin. He wipes his hands dry with a hand towel, ushering your forward with a gesture of his index finger. "Come here…" He wraps his arms around you. "All you do lately is work." Steve kisses your cheek three quick times. "Miss you."
You blink a little, overwhelmed, still worried. "Do I not do it right? It's okay if I don't, I can–" 
"Do what? The counters? No. I just figured it's my turn before the weekend starts and you go on your cleaning frenzy. Which isn't your job, by the way. I don't know why you think that." 
He's light-hearted, but your silence spurns him into a more serious tone. Taking your face into one still-damp palm, he narrows his eyes until they're more brown than anything else and says, "Do you really think it's your job?"
"I'm the girl." 
"And I'm so stoked about that, but…" He smiles, pulling your cheek with his thumb to encourage the same. "That's not right. Do you even like cleaning?" 
"I don't have to like it, it's housework." 
Steve can't seem to decide whether this is serious or not. He goes from smiling to frowning to impassive, his fingers rubbing a slovenly path down your cheek. Strands of hair like lace drift into his eyes as he ducks his head, his gaze on your chest. "It's housework for the house we both live in. I know you've been doing more of it since we moved in, and I'm really sorry. I'm lazier than you. I should've asked you about it, but now I've let you do more and you think you need to do all of it. I'm a dick." 
"No, you're not." 
"I'm a total dick. You think you have to clean up after me?" He brings you in for another hug. "Holy fuck, baby. I'm a grown up." 
You bristle at first, but relax the longer he holds you, his words sinking in steady. He's not criticising you; Steve is apologising and self-deprecating. You slide your arms behind his back and breathe in his smell, all things boy but with the sharp smell of bleach lingering. 
"I did it myself. You know, before. So that's why it feels like it's mine to do. Not your fault," you say into his chest. 
Steve pulls away. "Thanks, but I'm a huge dick no matter what." 
He marches you backwards and forces you back into one of the chairs at the dining table. You grab at his arms as he attempts to walk away, lifting your chin to kiss him. It distracts him for a while, the soft, slow press of his lips against yours, your hand in his hair scratching tenderly, but he can't be kept forever. Steve ends your kissing with a peck and beelines for the fridge.
"What are you doing?" you ask. 
"Making you a sandwich. Dinner and a show tonight, did I forget to tell you? You can eat the best BLT in the western hemisphere and I'm gonna vacuum the crumbs from under the toaster. Perfect Friday night, right?" 
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morganski-19 · 6 months
Text
"I'm sorry, you're what," Gareth asks, stunned by what Eddie just said.
"I'm dating Steve." Eddie braces for the inevitable impact that is about to happen.
"Steve Harrington."
Jeff clears his throat. "Like, King Steve?"
"The Hair Harrington," Grant adds on.
"Are you out of your mind?"
Eddie sighs and lets his head fall into his hands. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you guys. I knew you would get stuck in who he was and not who he is now and start questioning things and trying to get me to break it off."
"Well, no, let's slow down," Jeff intervenes, holding his hand out to tell Gareth to shut up. "How long have you been dating?"
Eddie tilts his head to the side. "Officially, a month."
"A month," Gareth exclaims.
"Unofficially, four months."
"FOUR MONTHS." Gareth gets up from where he was sitting and does a lap around the garage.
"That's a long time to be unofficial," Grant adds, Jeff nodding along.
Gareth gets in Eddie's face. "How could you be seeing Steve Harrington for four months and not tell us."
"Because I knew you would act just like this!"
Jeff pulls Grant back by his vest and pushes him back into the chair. "How were you guys together for three months before you made it official."
"Probably because Steve was still sleeping around," Gareth mutters.
"Oh shut it, Gareth," Grant snaps.
"He wanted it to be official pretty much the moment it started, I was just too scared to do it."
Jeff walks over and places a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "But now you're not as scared right. Now it's good between you two."
Eddie can't help the smile that forms on his face. "Yeah, it is."
"But why him?" Gareth asks, clearly upset by this information. "You saw who he was in high school man. Friends with the people who made fun of us for fun. Total player. Cared more about his looks and reputation than anything else."
"Oh like you don't do the same thing," Grant ruffles Gareth's hard.
"Seriously, why him?"
"Cause for the first time when I ran away, he came looking for me."
Gareth gives him a blank stare. "What."
Eddie stands up, shaking his head. "You know me, can't have anything good. The moment people start to care about me, especially romantically, I run away. Can't handle it. Took Wayne long enough to get me in, but that's different. You guys kept coming back, but that was different too. No one who ever wanted me like that gave enough of a shit about me to come find me after I ran away. He did."
"Ed-"
"The first big fight we had, I thought it was over. He wanted something more and I was so sure I wasn't enough for him. That he was just going to realize down the road that I was nothing. So I started a fight, picked a nerve I knew would hit just right so that it would end right then and there. And I knew he would fight back, and he did. So I ran away, thinking that it was over. The next morning he came back and apologized, like he had anything to apologize for. He came after me. And kept doing it. He knew that I didn't mean it, that this was just a defense. For the first time, no one let me run away."
"Shit," Gareth exhales. "That's pretty great."
Jeff claps Eddie on the back. "Really great.
"Can we meet him, officially," Grant asks.
"Yeah sure, he's been asking about you guys. Wants to come to a show sometimes."
"I can't believe Steve Harrington is going to be one of our regulars."
Grant gasps. "Our first groupie."
"Oh my god, yes."
"Guys stop it, it's not that serious."
"Sounds pretty serious to me," Gareth gets up again and walks over to Eddie. "I'm sorry for judging him. If," he looks up and takes a deep breath. "If he makes you happy, then I guess he's ok. But I want to meet him and scare the shit out of him."
Eddie snorts. "Yeah, good luck with that."
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Text
Eddie hated this and he'd just started.
See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.
He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.
"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"
But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.
"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."
Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"
"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"
Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.
When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.
"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"
That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."
Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.
Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."
And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.
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andvys · 7 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 11
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Warnings: none really, mentions of smoking and drinking, reader punching someone....
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler , slight Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Summary: Steve watches you from afar, confused about your relationship with the metalhead.
Word count: 4.9k
A/N: @mysticmunson you're always my biggest help and inspiration, thank you, angel🤍
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“Will you hold still?”
“I’m sorry!” 
“Why are you so shaky?”
“I-I don’t know.”
You drop the eyeshadow brush on the desk and put your hand on your hip, sighing as you look at Chrissy who looks more nervous than ever. She is still wearing a hoodie, the cheer uniform is hanging over the back of your chair. You have been trying to do her eye makeup for the past twenty minutes.
“Lay down.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, confusion takes over her face, “why?”
“Because I can’t work like this, you keep fidgeting – seriously, what’s up? You are never this nervous.” 
You and Chrissy always get ready together whenever there’s a basketball game. Usually she does her makeup herself but tonight she asked you to do it, she wanted something similar like you, just with more color.
She seemed happy and excited when she came over but now she seems like a nervous mess. Every time you move closer to her, she starts fidgeting, it’s not the first time you had noticed her doing that. You have noticed a lot in the past three months. 
Heather and Chrissy kept being secretive, oftentimes you would catch them whispering before they’d notice you in the room, they share glances that you don’t understand. They still make you feel left out. You confronted them a while back but neither of them gave you any answers to your questions, it upset you and it caused you to distance yourself from them a little. 
They had started to make you feel the way he made you feel. The constant lies, the whispers and them going behind your back had gotten to you. It triggered some feelings that you thought you had left in the past. 
They were upset when you stopped answering their phone calls and when you would cancel plans but you couldn’t be around them when they refused to talk about the very obvious issues they had with you. You would never drop the friendship, you would never leave them behind, they mean too much to you to just kick them out of your life but you needed some distance, for your sake. 
You made a new friend, Robin Buckley. Eddie introduced you to her back in January, they had been friends since middle school – back when he was still a theater kid. 
You instantly hit it off with her, she is nice and she is very different from Chrissy and Heather, which is why she didn’t feel comfortable hanging out with them yet. It’s a miracle that she gave you a chance considering that ‘popular’ people make her feel extremely anxious and uncomfortable – which you can understand now that you see things from a different perspective.
To most people, you are still the ‘the queen of Hawkins High’ but to some you are one of the freaks now. They glare at you, they whisper about you, they call you names and point their fingers at you, especially when they see you with Eddie, who feels guilty about the treatment you are getting from some of the people that used to be in your friend group when you were still with Steve. You don’t care though. 
You don’t care what other people think of you. 
But you do care what your friends think about you, your friends who still keep secrets. 
“Yeah Chrissy, why are you so nervous?” Eddie chuckles as he looks up from his magazine, glancing at the two of you. Wiggling his eyebrows at her. She glares at him and rolls her eyes, which only makes him chuckle again. 
Eddie knows why she is so nervous, it’s obvious why – well, it’s obvious to everyone but you. It didn’t take him long to figure it out. The subtle glares and the attitude he sometimes gets from the usually nice cheerleader isn’t because she doesn’t like him, it’s because she is jealous of him. Because she likes you. 
And she knows that he knows, she realized it after he started teasing her with small comments and the smug looks he would throw at her when he’d catch her checking you out. At first, she was scared. Scared that he would tell you something that she had been trying to hide for so long. Eddie promised not to tell though. 
Chrissy lies down, a small huff leaves her lips. You get on the bed and scoot closer to her, reaching for the eyeshadow brush, you dip it into the blue eyeshadow before you lean down. 
She is looking at you – staring at you. 
“Close your eyes,” you chuckle. 
“O-Oh right,” she whispers and closes her eyes. 
Eddie puts the magazine down, he leans back in his chair and puts his arm behind his head. He looks at you, you are already wearing your uniform, your hair and makeup is already done. He watches the way you bend down to get closer to Chrissy, your skirt rides up a little, exposing your spandex and more of your skin. He really really doesn’t want to look at you in that way but he can’t look away either. 
You are his friend and he really loves your friendship and how easy things are between the two of you but you are beautiful. 
And you are sexy. 
You suddenly turn around and glance at him, you catch him staring at you. Eddie’s eyes widen but he plays it cool, smirking at you. Your eyes flash with amusement, you raise your brows at him, a smirk tugs at your lips. 
“Stop staring, Munson.”
Eddie gives you a cocky grin, “I can’t look away from a beautiful sunset.”
You furrow your brows and a laugh escapes your lips, you shake your head at him, “what does that even mean, you dork?” 
You turn back around, still smiling. Chrissy snorts at his words. 
“Okay, tell any sane person to look away from two cheerleaders straddling,” he says. 
“Eddie!” Chrissy mumbles, opening her eyes to look at you with a disapproving frown. 
You grab one of your pillows and turn around, throwing it at him, “perv!” You laugh.
He catches it and presses it against his chest, he smirks at you, “can you do my eyeshadow too, sweetheart?” He jokes.
“Shut up,” you chuckle as you turn back around. You reach for your makeup bag and look for the glitter you bought when you went shopping with Robin, yesterday.
Chrissy leans on her elbows, she glances at Eddie who is checking you out again and then her eyes move back to you. She can see the shine in your eyes, the smile that you are trying to bite back, the flustered look on your face. 
It annoys her. 
Eddie is amazing and with him, you would actually be in good hands. He is a much better person than Steve ever was. He wouldn’t hurt you, especially not the way he did. Eddie makes you smile, he spends more time with you than Steve did, he buys you little presents that he surprises you with, all the time. He takes you out on dates that ‘clearly’ aren’t dates because you are just friends. Eddie comes to basketball games – he comes to basketball  games, just for you.
Eddie would be a good boyfriend, there is no doubt about that. She is not sure if you like each other or not but it seems like it. She should be happy for you and she should support it but the green eyed monster inside of her just refuses to let her be happy for you. 
“Are you excited for the party?”
Chrissy snaps out of her thoughts, she looks into your eyes again and nods. 
“Are you gonna wear the dress you bought?” 
She closes her eyes again when you lean back in with the brush. She feels your fingertips on her cheek when you tilt her face to the side. She takes in a shaky breath. 
“Should I?” 
You hum. 
“You look pretty in it.”
She smiles at your words, “I do?”
“Yes, you always do, Chris.”
She blushes and her smile grows bigger, “thank you,” she whispers. 
You smile down at her, “you’re welcome.”
After you finish her makeup, Chrissy takes her uniform and goes into your bathroom to get changed. You clean up the small mess and put away all the makeup and the brushes, you grab your favorite lipstick and walk over to the mirror, you can feel his eyes on you as you start applying the lipstick. A smile tugs at your lips, you glance at him through the mirror. He’s wearing the same smile as you. 
“What?” 
He shakes his head, scratching the back of his neck, “nothing.”
You furrow your brows, you smack your lips together and look at your reflection one more time before you turn around to face him. 
“Why are you smiling?” 
He shrugs and gets up from the chair, he grabs the green hair bow and walks towards you. 
“I like watching you get ready,” he says. 
“You do?” You smile. 
He nods, “mhmm.”
He stops in front of you and looks down at you as he holds up the green hair bow, “turn around.”
You turn around, facing the mirror again. He steps closer to you. You can smell his cologne, it’s a new one. It smells even better than the previous one he used. The smell of smoke always lingers around him though, nothing can hide the smell – not the cologne, not the aftershave, not his shampoo which surprisingly smells like apples, not the cinnamon from his favorite gum. 
Eddie’s hands are gentle, his brows are furrowed in concentration, he presses his lips together as he puts the bow in your hair. 
Something about this makes you giggle. Eddie being in your bedroom isn’t unusual but him helping you get ready for the game, putting a bow in your hair is very unusual. 
His eyes flash with amusement as he raises his head to look at your reflection in the mirror, “what’s so funny?”
You shrug and continue watching him, “just you helping me get ready for a laundry basket game.” 
He snorts. 
“I’m helping you get ready for your performance and I’m only going there for you, sweets.” 
Your heart warms at his words. 
“And then you’re also coming to the bonfire party with me.” 
“With you.” He nods. 
“Alright, I’m done,” he grins and flicks your ponytail before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug, leaning his chin on your shoulder, causing you to giggle again. 
You grab his forearms and lean back. 
“Do you hug all your friends that way?”
He chuckles and pulls you even closer, “nah only the special ones, babe,” he smirks and buries his face in your neck, breathing in the smell of your perfume and body wash. 
You giggle and tilt your head to the side, “how many special ones are there?” 
“Just one.”
You narrow your eyes as you turn to look at him, he smirks at you still. 
“You’re my very special one.” 
He isn’t joking about that, despite the teasing look on his face, he is saying the truth. You are special to Eddie. You haven’t been friends for that long, you started talking last summer, back in august but you have only gotten really close after your breakup with Steve. It feels like you have been friends for much longer than that though. The moment you first started hanging out, you instantly got attached to each other. Not a single day goes by when you don’t spend time together, he loves being with you and you love being with him. 
Things feel natural, easy and just good when you are with each other. 
You look into each other's eyes for a moment, not speaking, not moving, not doing anything. Sometimes that’s enough. 
A smile tugs at your lips as you look at him. His smile grows as well and before you know it, you both start laughing for no reason. 
Chrissy walks back into the room to see you in his embrace. She clenches her jaw and rolls her eyes in annoyance. She clears her throat. 
You and Eddie look away from each other, the smile still ever present on your faces. You don’t notice the jealousy or the bitterness on her face. He does. 
“Can we go?” 
You glance at Eddie who nods at you with a shrug. He is definitely not excited for the game, you told him that he doesn’t have to go but he claimed that he wants to go, for you.  
You smile at them both, “let’s go!”
-
Things between Steve and Billy were tense all night. You could tell from the moment they walked out into the gym, the glares they sent each other were more intense than usual, they wouldn’t pass on any opportunity to ‘accidentally’ bump into each other and not to mention Steve’s bleeding nose, he tried to hide it but he kept wiping his nose and you noticed the blood on the back of his hand. 
He looked angry and frustrated. You noticed it, right away. 
She didn’t. 
Despite the tension and the weird energy that surrounded one of the best players on the team, they still won against the opposing team and took another win home, which of course has to be celebrated.
Lovers Lake is filled with people, the bonfire party that had been planned for weeks is in full swing, loud music is sounding through the speakers, the smell of burning wood mixed with the smell of the crisp spring air brings you comfort. The cold months are over and the warm weather is finally approaching. 
The beer you have been drinking all night makes you feel a little tipsy but you feel calm and the stars in the sky make you smile as you lay on the grass with Eddie. He lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke up into the air. 
You turn your head and look around, a few people are sitting by the fire. You see Chrissy and Heather talking to a few girls from the cheer squad. You see Nancy sitting on a log with Jonathan, they are both laughing, leaning closer to each other, Steve is sitting on a different log, he is holding a red solo cup in his hand, he looks into the fire with a dull look on his face. 
You raise your brows, you look at the three of them. Odd. Shouldn’t he be the one next to her? Shouldn’t he be the one whispering to her? Shouldn’t he be the one making her laugh? 
“Do you think there’s more out there?” Eddie asks, pulling your attention away from him. 
“Hmm?” 
Eddie repeats his question and you turn back to look at him, he is pointing up at the sky, “like aliens and shit.”
You scoot closer to him, looking at the way he squints his eyes as he smokes. 
“Hmm, maybe,” you shrug, “I think there’s more than just aliens though.”
“Oh, do you?” He asks, turning to face you, “tell me more.”
“I think there’s other universes.”
He raises his brows, waiting for you to explain more. 
“I think there are different worlds, different versions of us – like, maybe there's a version of us fighting interdimensional monsters right now,” you joke, which he seems to love. 
His eyes light up at your words and he laughs. 
“Maybe we are slaying a dark wizard right now – what was his name again, Vecman? You know the one from your new campaign?” 
Eddie laughs loudly and he shakes his head, “it’s Vecna, sweetheart.” 
You roll your eyes and snort.
“Right, we are killing Vecna, right now.” 
“Are we normal humans or?”
“No, we have superpowers.”
“What kind of superpowers?” 
You put your finger on your chin and look up, “hmm… you got super strength, super speed,” you pause and look into his eyes, his skin looks pale beneath the moonlight, his eyes are dark. Your eyes widen, “you’re a vampire!” 
His jaw drops, his eyes widen, “I’m a vampire?” 
“Yes!”
“That means I had to die – wait! Did you bring me back from the dead? You know, since you’re a witch?”
"Absolutely,” you giggle. 
“That’s so sick, sweetheart.” 
“Right?” 
You both giggle as you stare at each other. His eyes fall to the chain around your neck, the one that he had put on you earlier tonight. He reaches his hand out and touches it. 
“Maybe we are both rockstars in a different world.” 
“Both of us?” You laugh, “I can see you being a rockstar but me?”
“Hush. You are helping me write songs and you can play guitar now – well a little, never as good as me but yeah,” he says, cockily. Smirking at you. 
You shake your head, snorting at his words. 
“Maybe you are my groupie.” 
“You wish!” You slap his shoulder, making him laugh again. 
“Okay okay, not a groupie – you are the lead singer and I’m the sexy guitarist.” 
“Mhmm.” 
You lie back again and look up at the stars, a grin takes over your face, “or maybe you are my groupie.”
“Oh absolutely, I’d totally be your groupie if you were a rockstar, y/n.”
You and Eddie are in your own little world, you always are. You don’t care about anything or anyone else when you are with each other. The rest of the world melts away when you spend time together. 
You don’t care about the people around you or the awful music that one of the jocks picked out, the prying eyes of the judging girls from the cheer squad. You just don’t care about anything. 
You don’t even notice the curious eyes of your ex boyfriend but Eddie does, after you get up to get a new drink. His eyes find a sulking Steve Harrington, who is still sitting by the fire. His girlfriend is long gone and so is her friend, Eddie doesn’t bother to look around for them. He keeps his eyes on Steve, watching the way his eyes follow you. Eddie wonders why he looks so miserable, because of Nancy and Jonathan or because of you? It seems to be the latter, he could be looking for her but instead he is watching you. 
A sigh falls from Eddie’s lips, how stupid can someone be? He wonders.
Suddenly, Steve straightens his back and his expression changes from miserable to curious and tense? He turns his head, looking right at him. Eddie raises his brows when he finds himself locking eyes with him. Steve looks confused, his eyes flicker back and forth between you and him. 
Eddie follows his gaze to see what confuses him so much. He is looking at you and at the guy who is shamelessly checking you out as you laugh at something he said to you.
Eddie snorts. Of course. If there is one thing that he got used to when going out with you then it’s you being hit on, every damn time. 
The guy is tall, probably taller than him. His shoulders are broad beneath the flannel, it’s clear that he’s some sort of athlete. He looks familiar but Eddie doesn’t recognize him. 
Curiously, Eddie watches the interaction from afar, sipping his beer. 
You are holding a drink in your hand, you have to crane your neck to look into his eyes. Eddie can see the smile on your face, you nod to whatever he is saying to you. He steps closer to you, pretending not to hear you properly, he leans closer and licks his lips when he looks down your shirt.
Eddie rolls his eyes, “douchebag.” 
The music is loud but he still hears the approaching footsteps, narrowing his eyes, he almost laughs in surprise when he sees Steve. Getting up, he dusts the grass off of his jeans and finishes his drink. 
Steve stops in front of him, when Eddie sees the look of disbelief on his face, he almost bursts out laughing. 
“I’m not selling tonight,” he mumbles. 
Steve shakes his head, furrowing his brows at his words, “I don’t wanna buy anything.”
“Oh, to what do I owe you the pleasure then, King Steve?” Eddie asks, mockingly. He expects Steve to look annoyed but he doesn’t, just very confused. 
“You’re not gonna do anything?” Steve asks. 
Eddie chuckles, his brows draw together and he tilts his head in question. 
“What do you mean?”
Steve raises his hand, pointing his finger at you and the guy who is now holding his hand out to you – you are writing something on his palm, presumably your number. 
Eddie rolls his eyes again. 
“This guy is flirting with her,” Steve mumbles.
“I’m not her keeper.” 
Now he looks even more confused, if he didn’t look so serious, Eddie would have laughed. But then he realizes why he looks at him so shocked. Steve must think that you and Eddie are dating and he doesn’t understand how he as your ‘boyfriend’ just lets you flirt with some other guy. 
Steve sighs, he turns around. Eddie watches the way he stares the guy down, a look of distaste appears on his face.
“That’s Ray, he used to be the captain of the basketball team. I always hated that guy.” Steve mumbles. 
That’s a lie. Steve used to look up to him, when he was a freshman in high school and he was new on the team, Ray had seemed like the coolest guy around, he was the most popular guy at school, the girls loved him, the boys wanted to be like him and so did Steve until he became popular too and he realized that he could be even better than him. Ray was just a popular guy but Steve Harrington became the King of the school. 
A title he used to be so proud of is just an embarrassing part of his past now. 
Steve is certain that you and Eddie are dating. He could just ask to be sure but he thinks that it’s too obvious. You are dating. But why are you flirting with the former captain of the basketball team? Why are you writing your number on his hand? Are you in an open relationship with Eddie? 
An open relationship is something you never approved of, you always made that very clear, not that Steve suggested something like this. Tommy always joked about it to Carol and you looked disgusted and always voiced your opinions on it. 
What happened? 
Did the hurt change you so much?
Ray walks away from you and you turn around, walking back to Eddie when someone else steps in front of you and both Eddie and Steve sigh in annoyance. 
Billy Hargrove. Always there to ruin the night. 
“Getting bored of the freak?” 
The smile on your face falls, a sour expression takes over and you tense up. You can’t stand Billy. Not only does he keep trying to get in your pants while he has a thing going on with your friend, he also keeps insulting Eddie and picking fights with Steve, which shouldn’t be any of your concerns but something tells you that Steve’s bleeding nose and the bruise on Billy’s jaw has got something to do with you. 
“Fuck off, Billy,” you mumble, trying to move past him. He doesn’t let you. He steps in front of you and chuckles. 
“Don’t be like that, baby.”
You scrunch your face up in disgust, “don’t call me that.”
His eyes move up and down, he looks at your exposed skin and you suddenly regret wearing a low cut shirt. 
“Ray Parker, huh?” He smirks, licking his lips, “going for the jocks again? The freak ain’t doing a good job at satisfying you? You know, you can just come to me instead of going for some retired team captain.”
“Jesus, shut up, Billy.”
Billy chuckles, his eyes twinkle with lust as he continues to stare at you, “when will you stop playing hard to get? We both know that you will end up under me at some point.” 
If you didn’t feel disgusted by him already, you would definitely be now. Anger rushes through you and you roll your eyes. 
“Keep dreaming, Hargrove.” 
"Oh, I will." 
You clench your jaw as you look into his blue eyes. You hate the cocky look on his face, the self assured expression that he always has. The smirk that he wears. God, you want to punch him. 
You go to walk past him and surprisingly, he lets you walk away this time but then he says something that makes your blood boil. 
“Yeah be a good girl and run back to the freak, no one else will fuck that loser.” 
You halt in your tracks and you clench your fists. You had always been protective over your friends but especially him. Eddie may be good at pretending that the bullying doesn’t get to him, he learned to ignore them or to throw some punchlines back but you are not going to stand by and watch how others degrade and belittle him. 
You turn back around and his smirk grows when he notices how angry you look. 
“I never thought you’d be into some trailer trash a–” 
You never punched someone before but you always wanted to know what it feels like to slam your fist into someone’s face, someone that you can’t stand. You didn’t think that it would hurt so bad but the look on his face and the bruise that he will wear later on, makes it all worth it. 
His head snaps to the side and he looks stunned for a moment. 
You hear the gasps around you, the chuckles from a few boys. 
A part of you expects him to hit you back, you are no stranger to his anger issues. The reaction you get isn’t one that you expected though. He furrows his brows and suddenly he bursts into laughter, his eyes flash with amusement and his pupils dilate even further. 
You want to punch him again. 
“Shit baby, I’m even more into you now,” he smirks. 
A groan of disgust falls from your lips and you turn around to leave before he can do or say anything else. 
Eddie and Steve stand there with stunned looks on their faces. Eddie looks impressed and proud, a smirk is tugging at his lips. 
Steve’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes are wide and his lips are parted in surprise. Out of all the things he expected to see tonight, this wasn’t one of them. The feeling that rushes through him is intense. 
You should have punched him a long time ago. 
“That’s kinda hot.”
Eddie snorts at Steve’s words. 
Yeah, it was hot. 
“Damn, sweetheart,” Eddie whistles, smirking as you walk back to him. He sees the way your eyes flash with confusion when you notice Steve next to him. “I didn’t know you had such a mean right hook.”
You roll your eyes, laughing. You don't even acknowledge him.
“He had that coming.” 
Eddie throws his arm around you, he pulls you into his chest and leans down to kiss your cheek sloppily, not caring that your ex boyfriend is staring. 
“That’s my girl.”
He wonders what Billy said to you to make you this mad. 
“You gonna hit me next, big girl?” Eddie jokes. 
You giggle, biting down on your lip, you look into Eddie’s amused eyes, completely dismissing his presence. You pull away from him, he looks at you curiously, eyeing the smugness in your eyes. Before he can react, you reach your arm behind him and slap his ass. 
Eddie’s jaw drops at the smack he received, he snorts at your action, squinting his eyes at you, he tries to give you a mean look which only makes you giggle again. You step back when you realize what he’s about to do. Just as he tries to swat your ass, you run off, giggling. 
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to run after you, trying to catch you. Your laughter is loud as you run away from him, pushing past the groups of people as you near the forest.
Steve's brows are still raised and his face is still stunned. 
Many emotions went through him today; anger, sadness, irritation, jealousy but mostly confusion.
He watches Eddie grabbing you from behind, he hears your squeal and he sees the way Eddie kisses your cheek, again.
He blinks and forces himself to look away, only now noticing how wrong it still feels to see you with him.
But it's not wrong, right?
It's not wrong because you aren't his anymore.
He let go of you because you had asked him to, because he loves her, because he wants to spend his life with her.
He still has love for you, he always will but you are a part of his past now, a past that keeps calling him. The past that keeps haunting him in his mind and in his dreams.
Sometimes when he can't sleep at night, he stares at the telephone on his nightstand and he wonders what it would be like to call you, to hear your voice again, to ask you how you are doing, to ask if you are happy with the life you are living now that you are strangers to each other.
Sometimes he wants to call but he never does. You won't pick up the phone. He is sure of that.
But, if you called, he would pick up the phone, anytime, without hesitation.
next chapter
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tagging friends & mutuals
@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @hellfire--cult @screammunson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @xxhellfiregirlxx @trashmouth-richie @somethingvicked
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steddiealltheway · 7 months
Text
(Part Two aka the final part to this)
As soon as Steve parks outside of Eddie's trailer, he races to Eddie's car door and opens it for him.
Eddie shoots him a bewildered look as he makes his way out of his car. "I can open my door, you know."
"But a proper date opens the door for you."
Eddie snorts. "So this is already starting?"
Steve shrugs as he follows Eddie to his front door. "I need all the time I can get to prove you wrong. Plus, I need to see this charm you insisted you have."
Eddie opens the door and dramatically guides Steve inside, quickly closing the door behind them. He stuffs his hands in his pants and avoids eye contact with Steve, staring off as if contemplating something. Eddie shakes his head and looks back at Steve. "Welcome to my home," he says holding his arms wide.
Steve glances around and nods. "It's cozy. I like it."
"No need to lie to me, Harrington."
"I'm not," Steve insists and laughs humorlessly. "I mean, you should see my house. It's huge but extremely uncomfortable. My parents hired a decorator and insisted that we couldn't make a single change. It's just so..."
"Nice to look at but not nice to live in?" Eddie asks, finishing his sentence again.
Steve nods quickly. "Exactly that."
Eddie gives him a small smile and leans back against his kitchen counter. That same distracted look crosses over his face.
Steve can't help but walk closer to him and say, "Eddie?"
Eddie snaps out of it and asks, "Why are you here, Harrington?"
"To prove you wrong and help Dustin," Steve answers easily, leaving out the part about how he needs to know where this will go.
Eddie hums in response and pauses before asking, "So, you're not going to use this against me."
Steve sighs. "Maybe I would've in high school, but no. I won't tell anyone how much I'm going to 'woo' you." Steve throws up air quotes around the word woo which makes Eddie smile a bit.
"Then can I tell you a secret?"
Steve nods.
Eddie pushes off the counter and steps toward him. "I've never been on a date before."
Steve stares at him for a second. "And Dustin still asked you for help?"
Eddie scoffs and walks past him. "No need to rub it in."
Steve runs a hand through his hair and follows after him. "Sorry, that was stupid to say." He grabs Eddie's hand gently and waits for him to turn to him. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely, "Not cool."
Eddie just gives him an unimpressed look.
"It's just hard to share Dustin. I'm used to him only going to me for help. I don't know. It probably sounds dumb."
"It doesn't," Eddie says, squeezing his hand.
Steve glances down at their hands, having forgotten that he had even grabbed Eddie's in the first place. He runs his thumb over the back of Eddie's and says, "Let's do this trial run."
Eddie pulls his hand away and runs it over his face. "Steve, I don't know how to go on a date."
"Which is exactly why we're doing this and whatever else you have planned for Dustin and Suzie after the movie date. Plus, I still have to prove you wrong." Eddie pulls his hair in front of his face nervously. Steve reasons, "Plus, this can be practice for any future dates."
"A date with Steve Harrington," Eddie says with a laugh.
Steve shrugs. "Why not?"
Eddie eyes him and breathes out, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"We can do this trial run, but just because I'm new to this doesn't mean you'll have an easier time winning me over."
Steve smiles and saunters up to him. "Are you sure about that?"
Eddie's eyes flicker down to his lips and back to his eyes, immediately making Steve's heartbeat stutter. He doesn't expect Eddie to card a hand through his hair smoothly, tilting his head back and making Steve's knees buckle a little. Eddie smirks. "Careful, you're not the only one who needs to prove themselves."
He backs away quickly and moves to his kitchen, rummaging around before coming up with a bag of popcorn which he pops in the microwave. Steve clears his throat, trying to gather himself before asking, "How have you never been on a date before?"
Eddie raises an eyebrow at him.
"I mean, you have all the... charm stuff down."
Eddie smiles. "So, you're already admitting to my charm."
Steve just puts his hands on his hips unimpressed.
Eddie's smile falters before he answers, "Okay, I mean I've hooked up with people at the Hideout, but no one's stuck around to actually go on a date with me."
Steve nods but replies, "That's hard to believe."
Eddie shakes his head. "Let's just say that it's easier for you than it is for me."
It feels like Steve's had this conversation before with... Robin? But why would it feel so familiar? He glances back at Eddie who has a bit of fear in his eyes.
The microwave beeps and suddenly it hits Steve.
He watches as Eddie grabs the bag, cursing slightly when the steam hits him. For some reason the revelation makes Steve feel a bit more nervous as the chance of something happening increases dramatically.
"Hey," Steve says, "It's okay if you're... you know."
Eddie's head snaps up.
Steve holds his hands up. "I promise I won't tell a soul."
Eddie relaxes a bit, but he stays behind the counter as he asks, "And you still want to do this trial run knowing that...?"
"Yeah," Steve says a little bit too enthusiastically, "Now I can be sure that your judgment of my skills is accurate."
This makes Eddie laugh loudly, and Steve immediately smiles. "You know, I think I'm finally starting to see why Dustin likes you so much."
"And why the ladies love me so much?"
"Don't push it, Harrington," Eddie says, pointing a finger at him before grabbing a bowl to put the popcorn in. He grabs the bowl and gestures for Steve to follow him to the couch. "So, you're the expert here, what do you recommend?"
"Like movie options?" Steve asks as he makes himself comfortable.
"Movie options, seating arrangements, where to put the popcorn..." Eddie trails off.
Steve tucks his feet under himself and shrugs. "Depends. If we were Dustin and Suzie I would say to watch something cheesy or something science fiction that they both enjoy. Dustin should definitely watch to see if her hand is free to hold at any point, but that's about it for them."
"And how would it change for us- or me?"
Steve smiles and scoots in closer, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. "If it's here then definitely get as comfortable and close as you want. As for a movie, it depends. Do you actually want to watch the movie or do you want background noise?"
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Classy."
Steve laughs. "No, no, I don't mean like hooking up. I mean if you just want to talk and get to know each other maybe make out a little, you want to pick a movie that you've both seen and won't be upset missing." He glances toward a stack of tapes near them and points at one. "Like Back to the Future, great movie to comment on and talk during, but I wouldn't be upset about missing parts. But I'm guessing you're like Dustin and Star Wars would be a no-go for missing scenes. At least, I was that way when watching."
"You've seen Star Wars? Which one?"
"The one with the little teddy bears."
Eddie hums in response.
"So, what are you thinking for a movie?" Steve asks.
"Back to the Future would be nice, but maybe we do like thirty minutes so we can get to my part of the date without you falling asleep on me," Eddie suggests.
"You already have an idea?"
Eddie shrugs and looks away. "It's kind of always been a date idea in the back of my mind."
"Secret romantic," Steve teases, hand dropping down from the couch to Eddie's shoulder, squeezing lightly.
Eddie tenses up a little, so Steve asks, "Is this okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just not used to it," Eddie answers honestly.
Steve nods and pulls away, moving to put the tape in the VHS player before coming back to the couch. He sits a little further away from Eddie and says, "We can keep our distance if that's more comfortable with you."
Eddie just nods and looks ahead at the screen, tilting the bowl of popcorn toward Steve who takes a handful. He tries to find something to say, but he's struck by sudden nervousness and wonders if Eddie's right about him cruising based on his looks because usually by this point whatever girl he's with is giggling and practically climbing into his lap to get closer to him.
But then Eddie relaxes a bit and throws his arm around the back of the couch which fills Steve with relief. "So, how did you get so close to Dustin? He goes on and on about you, but he never has told me that story."
Steve shrugs, trying not to give away how much the question freaks him out. He tries to keep the answer as close to the truth as he can. "He's friends with Nancy's younger brother so he's kind of always been around I guess. One day, I was bringing flowers to Nancy to apologize for doing something stupid, but Dustin found me instead. He told me that Nancy wasn't home and that he needed a ride and help with something, and the rest is history."
Eddie narrows his eyes at him. "I feel like there's more to the story."
Steve shrugs again and shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth.
"Like the whole bat with nails that Dustin didn't even look twice at. The story between you two doesn't make sense."
Steve swallows his mouthful and moves closer to Eddie. "What if I told you that it's a story I'll have to come back to another time?"
Eddie twists toward him and tilts his head. "Do you really think that's going to make me less curious? And I see what you're doing trying to distract me with your charm."
Steve tucks a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear and asks, "Well, is it working?"
Eddie just shakes his head and says, "You wish, pretty boy." Nonetheless, he turns back to the movie leaving Steve to privately panic over the way the nickname makes him feel.
And maybe he wants to torture himself or something because next thing he knows, he's asking, "Well, how would you have distracted me?"
Eddie's head slowly turns to him, eyebrows raised. "Do you really want to know?"
Steve blames morbid curiosity as the reason he nods in response.
Eddie sets the bowl of popcorn down - and the implications of that scare Steve shitless - and he moves until their knees are touching. He gets a thoughtful look on his face as he recalls their conversation. "So, I was saying something about how the story between you didn't make sense. And instead of agreeing with it, I would've said something like. You know what doesn't make sense? How someone so gorgeous ended up here with me."
Steve flushes red but simultaneously snorts in response, "That's a horrible line."
"Yet, you're the one who is blushing."
Steve raises his eyebrows and says, "Well, if I got a do-over and time to think like you, then maybe I would've done something like this." Steve leans in and puts a hand on his chest, slouching down so he has to look up through his lashes to say, "Maybe that's a story for another time because right now... I have other ideas about what we could be doing."
Eddie stares down at him, hand slipping off the couch to trail up his back and into his hair. "And here I thought that you had said more intimate didn't mean sex."
Steve smiles and hopes Eddie can't feel his heart pounding in his chest. "It's true, but I also told you that some movies are great background noise to make out during."
Eddie's eyes flicker down to his lips, and Steve can feel his eyes start to flutter shut.
But then, Eddie abruptly pulls back and says, "Okay, yeah, you got me. I understand the Harrington charm."
Steve only smiles slightly, feeling the disappointment settle in his chest at losing the chance to kiss the boy.
"So, I think date part one is covered. Onto my part?" Eddie asks, already standing up and rushing to stop the film.
"Yeah, sure," Steve says.
Eddie glances at him and pauses before beckoning him to follow him. Steve gets up immediately and follows Eddie to where he assumes his room is and suddenly gets a wave of panic.
Eddie glances back and must catch the look. "Relax, I'm just grabbing you some warmer clothes."
Steve nods but stays in the doorway, glancing around at Eddie's room. Something about it feels so Eddie that he can't help but smile at it.
"Here," Eddie says, thrusting a yellow sweater into his hands, "I haven't worn it in forever but it should keep you warm."
"Thanks," Steve says, stripping off his jacket to throw on the sweater before putting the jacket back on. "But why do I need more clothes?"
Eddie smiles. "You'll see." He grabs the blanket off his bed and walks past Steve to the front door. He opens it and says, "After you."
Steve gives him a look of confusion before heading out the front door. Eddie follows behind him and closes the door before grabbing Steve's hand and leading him around the trailer to a ladder which he immediately starts climbing.
Steve tries to advert his eyes from the view Eddie's giving him before he follows him up the ladder, grabbing Eddie's hand once he makes it to the top in an attempt to steady himself. He's never been the biggest fan of heights, but he doesn't want to admit that to Eddie who guides him to the middle of the roof. He lets go of his hand to lay out a blanket and immediately lays down on it, patting the empty spot next to him.
Steve lays down and lets out a deep breath as he sees their view of the night sky, glittering with stars.
"Pretty amazing, right?"
All Steve can do is nod. He doesn't know if he's ever really taken the time to stare at the sky and appreciate its beauty.
"I like to go up here to clear my mind sometimes. But I've always thought it would be nice to share with someone else. But maybe Dustin and Suzie can just lay out in his yard instead because I think it would be life or death before I let one of them up here. Dustin would break a leg or something."
Steve chuckles and glances at Eddie only to find him staring at him as if trying to gauge his reaction. "Thank you for taking me up here," he says sincerely, going as far as reaching into the space between them and intertwining their fingers.
Eddie's hand squeezes his as he turns to look up at the stars, looking so at peace with the world that Steve can't help but stare at him.
Eddie glances at him. "Look at the stars, Steve. You're wasting your time staring at me."
"The stars are here every night though, so maybe I want to spend all the time I can looking at you."
Eddie turns to him with a conflicted look on his face. "Is this your Harrington charm?"
Steve shakes his head. "It's just the truth." He sighs and looks up at the sky. "Do you ever wish you could start over knowing everything you know now?"
"Yes," Eddie answers immediately, thumb running over the back of Steve's hand. "What would you change?"
Steve considers the question for a moment before turning to Eddie and saying, "Everything."
Eddie looks back at him and asks, "Would you change this?"
Steve's eyes search Eddie's, wondering how he wants him to answer the question, but he answers honestly, "I wouldn't have been such a dick earlier, and I would've changed this from a trial date to a real date."
Eddie whispers, "There's nothing stopping it from changing now."
Steve shifts onto his side and looks down at him. "Are you sure you want a date with King Steve of all people?"
Eddie shakes his head. "I don't think that's you. So why don't you prove me wrong?" he asks, running a hand through Steve's hair before resting it on the back of his head.
Steve lets Eddie take the lead to slowly drag him in, pausing when they're close enough to be breathing each other's air. "Are you sure you want this?" Eddie asks.
"More than you could possibly know," Steve replies before closing the gap between them and gently brushing their lips together before breaking the kiss to look Eddie in the eyes and make sure he's okay.
Eddie just pulls him back in and kisses him as if he's pouring everything he's feeling into the kiss which Steve returns just as passionately, unable to deny the truth that no kiss has ever made him feel this way before.
He cradles Eddie's face as they deepen the kiss and Eddie tries to pull him in impossibly closer, both hands making a mess of his hair until Steve pulls away, breathing hard before moving in to kiss him again as sweetly as he can before he rests their foreheads together.
They both try to catch their breath, and neither dares break the silence between them.
Eventually, Steve gives Eddie a gentle kiss on the forehead and rolls away onto his back, finding Eddie's hand and intertwining their fingers again.
They both stare up at the stars, not looking at each other until Eddie finally breaks the silence to ask, "Steve, where do we go from here?"
Steve turns to him and squeezes his hand. "I don't know," he confesses. "But what if we didn't think about it now? What if we just see what happens?" Steve asks, not wanting to think of the reality of their situation.
Eddie nods. "I like that idea."
So, they both turn back to the stars, wishing that their paths will be able to cross again.
Little do they know that their wishes will be granted soon.
(Super quick happy ending in the tags)
Tag List <3 (Sorry this took longer than planned):
@estrellami-1 @resident-gay-bitch @7-starboi @steves-yellow-cardigin @anaibis @saramelaniemoon @big-ol-regret @piemaker-from-gallifrey @queerriotgrrrl @sharingisntkaren @zoeweee @goodolefashionedloverboi @l0st-strawberry @dragonmama76 @pluto-pepsi @its-a-me-a-morgan @tiny-enthusiast @aol19 @pansexualhousecat @paintsplatteredandimperfect @thesuninyaface @messrs-weasley @gemini-local @paperbackribs
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unclewaynemunson · 9 months
Note
I definitely think it takes Eddie a while to accept that Steve changed. He remembers what he was like in high school.
When Steve asks him out, for whatever reason, Eddie says yes. But he’s determined not to fall in love, because deep down Harrington’s still a dick. But he’s cute, and Eddie can smile and play pretend.
But then! Steve goes full happy relationship mode, he tells Robin (obv), introduces Eddie to the other adults as his bf, and is just generally being sweet.
MY SWEET ANON I HOPE YOU'LL STILL SEE THIS!!!
I'm so sorry it took me ages to answer this one! But I really loved the idea of this (the good ol' steddie + misunderstanding about what they mean to each other with a dash of terrible communication skills my beloved) so i wanted to give it my proper attention, which i didn't have enough time for over the past few months. Buuut the words have finally found their way to my keyboard so here is the first part of what probably will turn into a 3-part ficlet, I hope it's something like what you had in mind when you sent this ask to me <3
---
Eddie has been acting weird all day. Maybe Steve is too much of a romantic, but he can't help it: he wanted to celebrate this day. Exactly a month ago, he asked Eddie out. And it's been good. They've spent a lot of time together. They've been on lots of dates, spent plenty of nights together... But today, things are different, somehow. Eddie is different. He turned Steve down for a dinner date, he didn't stop by Family Video during lunchtime, and when Steve shows up at the trailer to surprise him with flowers, he merely frowns and pulls back from their kiss before it can even properly get started.
'Everything alright?' Steve asks, trying to catch his boyfriend's gaze – which isn't exactly easy with how Eddie is turning away from him to not-so-gently put the flowers down in a corner of the trailer's living room.
'Yeah, sure,' Eddie mumbles, not really looking at him. 'It's just – I didn't really expect to see you today. We didn't have plans.'
Steve chuckles, trying to get the tension out of his chest. 'Didn't know I was expected to schedule an appointment before coming here.' He tries to play it off as a joke, but the tone of his voice doesn't really want to cooperate.
Eddie finally turns back towards him and Steve catches the end of an eye-roll.
'I'm just not feeling too great today, alright?' It sounds a bit stiff and Steve pauses. He wonders if he did something wrong, if he somehow invaded Eddie's space – even though he has showed up at the trailer on countless evenings in the past month.
'What's wrong?'
'Nothing,' Eddie answers, a little bit too fast. 'I told you, I'm not feeling so well.'
And now that he can see his face properly, Steve notices that Eddie is indeed looking paler than usual.
'Hey, don't worry about it,' he says. 'I can stay to take care of you, if you want to. We don't have to do anything. You can go to bed early and I'll keep you company. I can make you some soup, read to you... You could've just told me you're not feeling good, you know. I would've picked up some fruit on my way over here and stopped by the library for you.'
'You don't have to do any of that, Steve.'
Steve tries to ignore the fact that it's been ages since Eddie has last called him by his official first name. He doesn't like the sound of it.
'But I want to,' he says instead. He takes a step towards Eddie, lifts his arms to wrap them around him – but Eddie swats his arms away before he can properly embrace him.
'Don't.' He sounds cold and detached, so different from how he usually sounds. 'Don't act like this is something it isn't.'
'Like this is something –' Steve echoes, completely caught off-guard by this turn of events. 'Like what?'
'Jesus Christ, you really don't know when to stop, do you?'
'What?' He takes a stumbling step backwards, driven away by the force in Eddie's words.
'We're not – like that,' Eddie stutters out. 'We're just fucking around, aren't we? So you don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home.'
Steve takes another step backwards, until his back collides with the door of the trailer. He blindly grabs the door handle behind him.
'Alright,' he says, trying desperately not to let his voice tremble audibly. 'I hear you, loud and clear. I'll – I'll leave you alone, then.'
Read pt2 here (Edit: it's actually 5 parts now. You can read the whole thing on ao3 here)
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ddejavvu · 2 months
Note
hey babey !! if you're looking for requests, i have one :D i'd love to see a steve x reader where they just got back from the upside and reader is badly injured but doesn't realize it until steve does!! <3333
You're shaking, and so is Steve, and so is Dustin, and Max, and Robin, and- everyone is shaking.
Fleeing a torturous dimension will do that to a person, especially if they're not even through high school yet. You're slumped into the back of Eddie's squeaky van as he barrels down the road towards home, and despite the solid surface behind your back, you're still shaking.
Your thigh trembles where it supports your raised knee. You let your foot slide away from you and your knee falls down, down, down, landing with a thunk against the floor of the van. It's accompanied by a rather interesting ooze, that only catches Steve's eye because his fingers are resting beside it, and get doused in the liquid.
"Oh- fuck!" He recoils, snatching his hand away from the crimson pool on the floor, "You're bleeding, Y/N!"
Heads turn your way and Eddie momentarily forgets that he's driving, because his does, too. He remembers quickly, though, and snaps his eyes back on the road, eyeing you through the rear-view mirror instead.
"Oh." You notice what he has, the puddle slowly expanding from your now-flat thigh, "I didn't know."
"Can you feel it?" Steve asks, and if you concentrate hard- oh, yes, that throbbing isn't usually there.
Dustin's eyes squeeze shut, and Max is already wrestling her jacket off of where she'd tied it around her waist. You'd worry about them moving around while Eddie drives down the bumpy stretch of road, but if the Upside Down didn't kill you, you're not going to let a car accident finish the job.
"Here," She offers up the fabric, her eyes morbidly curious as she assesses your wound, "Tie it, Steve."
"I know what to do," He snaps, taking the jacket from her, but his fingers slow as he gently lifts your thigh up, bending your knee once more.
"Sorry," He grumbles, blinking like he wants to rake his hands over his face, scrub his eyes of their memories, "Sorry."
Max grunts in acknowledgement, and Steve's hands shake as he ties her jacket around your thigh like a tourniquet.
"We'll look at it more at home," Steve promises you, easing your foot outwards again so that your knee is no longer bent, and you're completely relaxed into the rhythm of the van jostling you all down the road.
Home, you realize, is Steve's house- he wants you there, he wants to crouch beside your thighs in the shower and pad at your wound with cotton and antiseptic, wrap it in gauze and pat it tenderly. Home is air that cleanses your soot-filled lungs, and home is the right way around.
Home is such a nice word, after Hoɯǝ.
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ashwhowrites · 5 months
Text
An idea that popped in my head before bed. I hope you guys enjoy it! Been a bit since I've written my own Robin idea so I hope it's worth the read 🫶🏻🩷
Robin writes a love note for Vickie but accidentally puts it in Readers locker
Wrong locker
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Robin has been trying to figure out the best way to confess her feelings to Vickie. Robin figured since she couldn't even speak a word to the pretty redhead in general, writing down her feelings would be best. But Robin didn't want to sound like a crazy stalker so she settled for a simple love note.
Robin took a deep breath as she walked to Vickie's locker, she slipped the pink paper in the small cracks. She held her breath as the note dropped in. The sound of the bell had her racing to the other side of the hallway. She tried to look busy but kept her eye on the locker.
She smiled as Vickie walked up, but her stomach dropped when she noticed Vickie was opening the locker next to the one with the note. Robin panicked, whose locker was the note in?
Fear filled Robin's bones as Y/N walked up. The girl's atmosphere was terrifying. Her leather jacket smelled of cigarettes and perfume. Her healed black boots echoed down the halls. Her tight jeans framed her body along with her tight band T-shirt. She was intimating, and she liked to be. Her sharp eyes glared at anyone who looked at her. A snarl on her lips if anyone bothered to talk near her.
Robin felt like she wanted to die when Y/N opened her locker, the pink note falling to Y/N's feet. Robin prayed she wouldn't pick it up, maybe stomp on it and move on.
But no, Y/N picked up the note. Robin was stuck in her spot, she needed to run but she couldn't move.
Y/N tried to keep the smile off her face. No one has seen her smile and that wasn't going to change. But she couldn't help but feel her heart flutter at the sweet note. She knew she was intimidating and scared people off. But she's never had someone see her in such a romantic way.
She knew of Robin Buckley, the cute bandgirl. Y/N played on the volleyball team and the band always played at their games. Was Robin watching her the whole time?
Y/N put the note in her pocket, closing her locker. She turned around to walk to class when she spotted Robin staring. Once they made eye contact, Robin looked down at her shoes.
Please don't walk up to me
Please please please
"Hey Buckley," Y/N's voice ran shivers up Robin's spine. She gulped and looked up. Y/N stood in front of her, her confident frame stood tall.
"I'm sorry! The note was-" Robin went to explain what happened but Y/N cut her off.
"The note was very sweet. Thank you, it made my day. I'll call you." Y/N said, a smirk on her face as she took in Robin's nervous frame.
Robin didn't dare to breath until Y/N strutted off.
~~~
"And turns out it was the wrong locker!" Robin explained, her voice wavering between pitches. Her nervous hands were shaking as she told the story to Steve.
Steve nodded along with his arms crossed. Robin tended to talk throughout their shifts and not do any work. So Steve picked up the slack. But the place was dead so gossip time took full attention.
"Whose did it end up in?" Steve asked, he uncrossed his arms as he reached to grab his drink.
"Y/N."
Steve's eyes went wide and his water flew out of his mouth. Steve was a grade above Y/N throughout high school, and even he was terrified of her. He prayed he'd never run into her after graduation. Her sneer and hard eyes kept him up at night. He still has nightmares about the day he ran into her, his hot coffee staining her shirt. Steve could almost feel the bruises on his cheek forming again.
"You're fucked!" Steve said.
"Dingus! Don't you think I know that? She said she was going to call me! What the hell do I do?" Robin panicked.
"Maybe she won't call you! Let's not stress about anything yet." Steve said
~~~
Robin sighed in relief when she crawled into bed, not a single phone call from Y/N. Maybe Y/N just wanted to make Robin nervous and never planned to do anything about the note.
Ring
Ring
Ring
Robin gulped as she picked up the phone, she hoped more than anything that Steve was calling about his lame date.
"Sorry, gorgeous. Volleyball went very late." Y/N's voice traveled through the phone, and it still made Robin nervous.
"It's okay." Robin gulped, her fingers playing with the telephone cord.
"I know this place downtown, maybe Friday night after the game, we can go?"
Robin tried to say no, all she had to do was explain the mix-up. But she was scared of Y/N's reaction. One date couldn't hurt, maybe Y/N would realize how boring Robin was and wouldn't be interested.
~~~
Robin packed up her instrument, talking with Vickie about the game. Robin tried her best to keep the conversation going.
"Ready gorgeous?" Y/N asked. Robin couldn't help but blush at the nickname being said to her face. Y/N was sweaty and panting from the game, and Robin couldn't help but find it hot.
"Yeah just gotta pack up." Robin rushed out, her eyes meeting Y/N's for one quick second.
"Okay. I'm going to change then I'll meet you in the parking lot?" Y/N suggested. Robin nodded and felt the air return to her lungs when she walked away.
"What's going on?" Vickie asked, she didn't bother to hide how shocked she was.
"She kinda asked me out." Robin shrugged.
"Oh, cool," Vickie said, but Robin couldn't help but notice how displeased Vickie looked about the news. Was she jealous?
~~~
Robin tried not to stare at Y/N as they walked into the bar, but Y/N looked hot in her tight black jeans, tank top, and signature leather jacket. Robin tried to ignore how sweaty her palms were.
Robin was confused about why they'd go to a bar when they weren't of age, but Y/N knew the bartender it seemed. Y/N walked to the back booth, near a pool table.
Y/N had a beer and Robin had an iced tea. Y/N made good conversation and Robin was surprised by the things they had in common. Robin found herself enjoying Y/N's presence.
A few hours passed and Robin swung her feet as Y/N played pool. Robin didn't know how to play and she did not want to look like an idiot in front of Y/N.
"Come here and just try!" Y/N encouraged, she's been trying to get Robin to play for the last hour. But Robin kept shaking her head.
Y/N gave up on convincing Robin, instead, she'd make Robin do it.
Robin gulped as Y/N grabbed her hand and lifted her off the stool.
"No, I'm not any good!" Robin tried but Y/N shushed her. Y/N placed the stick in Robin's hand, stood behind her, and corrected her form. Robin couldn't help but feel slightly turned on as Y/N's body was pressed against her back. The feeling of Y/N's breath against her ear, and Y/N's arms wrapped around her, made Robin feel fuzzy.
Robin took a deep breath, letting Y/N guide her to hit the small white ball. Robin watched as the stick hit the ball, it rolled and rolled until it smacked into a red ball, disappearing into the corner.
"You did it!" Y/N cheered, Robin couldn't help but get lost in her dazzling smile. At that moment Y/N didn't seem so scary and intimidating. She looked beautiful and happy.
~~~
A few weeks passed and Robin cursed herself for leading Y/N on. Robin couldn't help but be swept up in all the dates and how special Y/N made her feel. It made Robin wonder why she never looked at Y/N in the first place.
But Robin was tugged between Vickie as well. The girl the note was made for. It seemed Vickie was jealous of all the dates between Robin and Y/N. Robin remembered the hard look in Vickie's eyes when she showed up in Y/N's jacket.
"Are you cold?" Y/N asked, her hand laced with Robin's as they walked through the carnival. Robin wore a thin long sleeve, not expecting the wind to be chilly.
"No, I'm fine!" Robin argued, but the shivering of her teeth and tight shoulders gave her up.
Y/N smiled and took off her jacket, placing the warm leather over Robin's shoulders. Immediately lacing their hands together again.
A jacket Robin still hasn't given back. She wore it every day to school. To make Vickie jealous? Or to have pride she got Y/N to go soft? She wasn't sure.
She felt torn between both girls.
~~~
"Do you like her?" Steve asked, he felt bad for the situation Robin got herself in.
"I think so? But I don't know if I like her because she makes Vickie jealous." Robin explained. She was stuck in her personal hell.
"Well if Vickie's jealous, it means she has feelings for you. So you have your answer. Vickie is interested and single. Do you want to go after her? Or stay with Y/N?"
"I think I want Vickie. I mean the note was meant for her but I'm afraid if Y/N finds out the note was for Vickie, she'll snap me in half " Or maybe she was worried it would snap Y/N in half.
~~~
Robin sat across Y/N as she sipped on a milkshake. Robin's stomach hurt too much to enjoy the sweetness.
"Are you okay? You look like you might be sick." Y/N said, her milkshake pushed to the side as she reached across for Robin's hand. Robin gulped as Y/N's soft thumb rubbed her skin.
Just say it, Robin repeated in her head. She needed to tell the truth before Y/N truly fell for Robin.
"I need to tell you something," Robin said, her free hand gripping the leather jacket by her lap. Y/N encouraged her with a small smile.
"Remember the note?"
"Of course I do." Y/N smiled
"I put it in the wrong locker," Robin said quickly, wincing as the words finally were put into the air.
"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, her head turned as she tried to understand.
"I wrote the note for Vickie and I was scared to tell you. " Robin looked up to catch Y/N's reaction. The smile turned upside down as a frown covered its place. Robin has never seen so much emotion on Y/N's face. And just like she feared, the terrifying hard mask appeared on Y/N's face.
Robin tried not to flinch as Y/N removed her hand and moved it quickly into her lap. Robin's palm smacked the table. As always, Robin ran her mouth until she made it worse.
"And I just didn't want to hurt you! And I was a little scared you'd break me in half. So I went along with the date, not expecting you'd like me! Because like I'm me and I'm so boring compared to you. I figured you'd see dating me was blah and wouldn't be interested. But then you asked for more dates and I was-"
"Scared to say no, yeah got it." Y/N barked. She was an idiot to believe someone saw her as something else than a scary monster that lurked in the halls. All this time, she thought Robin saw something in her, something worth liking and learning to love. But no, Robin was scared just like everyone else.
Y/N refused to let how upset she was shown on her face. She shook it off and grabbed her wallet. She slammed down some bills on the table, the harsh air hitting Robin's hand, she flinched again.
Robin was scared to look up as Y/N stood up. She was too scared to see the look on Y/N's face.
"Look at me," Y/N growled, Robin swallowed nervously and looked up. But there was a softness in Y/N's eyes.
"You're not boring, and you're not blah. You're funny, fun, and beautiful. Don't think so low of yourself. Next time, make sure the note goes in the right locker. I'll see you around Buckley."
Robin didn't know what to say. Y/N walked off, leaving her jacket with Robin.
~~~
Robin barely slept that night. She felt so guilty, and not all relieved. She thought telling Y/N would take the weight off her shoulders, but it was the opposite. The weight on her shoulders now crushed down on her chest.
Y/N's jacket thrown over Robin's desk chair was a painful reminder she had to see Y/N again.
The next morning, Robin held the jacket in her arms as she walked up to Y/N's locker.
"Um hey," Robin said quietly, Y/N and Vickie looked up at the sound of her voice. Robin shrunk under the gaze of both girls.
Y/N figured she was talking to Vickie so she turned back around to her locker.
Robin couldn't help but feel like she was slapped in the face as Y/N ignored her completely.
"I have your jacket." She said, tapping Y/N's shoulder. Y/N turned around, grabbed the jacket, and slipped it back on her body. In a way Robin felt a weird feeling of pride. She knew it was Y/N's jacket in the first place, but Robin wore it for weeks to where it almost felt like hers. It felt like Y/N was wearing Robin's jacket.
"Thanks," Y/N muttered the locker behind her slammed shut as she quickly walked off. Y/N couldn't watch Robin and Vickie talk about their feelings.
"Yikes, she's back to cold." Vickie observed.
"Yeah I kinda broke things off," Robin explained, a feeling in her stomach as Vickie tried to fight off a smile.
"Oh that's too bad!" Vickie said, but Robin could hear the excitement in her voice. "What happened?"
"I wrote this note to ask you out and I accidentally put it in her locker. I've been too scared to tell her but I finally did. And I think she hates me." Robin said, looking over her shoulder but Y/N was long gone.
"Ask me out?" Vickie asked, a smile on her face.
"Yeah," Robin said with a smile. Her face warmed when Vickie reached forward to lace their hands together. Robin couldn't help but notice Vickie's grip wasn't as tight and safe as Y/N's. Robin didn't feel like she was protected like the way she did in Y/N's hands.
"I'd love to!" Vickie cheered, both girls sharing a bright smile.
But Robin couldn't help but feel an unsettling feeling in her stomach.
~~~
It didn't take long for Robin and Vickie to officially be together. Steve was proud of Robin for finally making a choice, but even he couldn't help but feel like it was the wrong one.
Robin spent every minute with Vickie, searching for the fluttering in her stomach that she had with Y/N. Robin thought it was fear but maybe it was excitement.
Robin tried to fight off the frown on her face when Y/N passed her in the halls. No more warm smile sent her way. Just a hard look, the same look she gave everyone else.
Was Vickie the right choice?
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Text
Rockstar Life
It might have all been forgiven, if Eddie had called. If Eddie had called and begged forgiveness immediately.
Steve could believe- would be willing to look past one drunken mistake.
But Eddie doesn't call.
Eddie doesn't call. Not in the morning after. Or the following day. Or the next.
Steve doesn't reach out either, because how can be he expected to? Paparazzi caught Eddie shoving a mysterious man against the wall in a dark alley, captured their heated kisses and how they barely separated for long enough to get into the back of an uber, and Steve knows as soon as he sees the pictures that he won't be reaching out.
He's not the one that's done anything wrong.
It takes three days for Steve to hear from Eddie. It's a shock, a genuine surprise, because it's face to face. Steve hears the front door close, and he thinks it's Robin, come to check on him again so he doesn't even turn around from where he's making a quesadilla directly on the stovetop.
He does freeze completely when it's not Robin's voice he hears.
"Steve, I am so sorry. So fucking sorry. I can't even begin to explain how sorry."
Three days ago, Steve might have forgiven him.
Today, he's not feeling so generous. He turns the burner off and scoots the half-cooked quesadilla to the cooler side of the stovetop before turning around.
Eddie looks wrecked. Dark bags under his eyes, made even darker by his paler than normal skin, hair a type of messy Steve hasn't seen since the spring break Eddie was in hiding and unable to take a proper shower. He looks heartbroken, distraught and upset. All things Steve felt up until this exact moment. Now that he's face to face with the love of his life, he feels nothing.
"Am I moving out, or are you?"
The noise Eddie makes is heart wrenching. Steve's not so numb and hateful to not recognize that. "Babe, please-"
"Do not call me that," Steve interrupts, "not when you were probably whispering that to someone else just days ago."
"Ba-Steve. Steve, please. I swear it was a mistake. It- I was way too drunk and high to be thinking clearly-"
"I don't want your excuses, Eddie. I want to know if I'm packing my things, or if you are."
"Steve, can't we talk about this?"
That makes Steve's blood boil. "Talk about it? Talk about it? Now you want to talk about it? You should have wanted to talk about it the second you slunk from that guy's bed. Or did you have to kick him from yours? Or, worse, has it taken three goddman days to hear from you because you were still in bed!?"
"No!" Eddie cries, "no, it didn't- it was just-"
"Stop!" Steve shouts, "I don't want to hear any details! I don't care if that uber only made it a block before you came to your senses and bailed. That doesn't- those pictures- you pinned him to the wall, Eddie!"
Eddie is silent, shrinking in on himself in a way Steve's never seen. Steve pushes down the urge to comfort him.
Steve is the one in need of comfort. He's the hurt party here.
"If I were sober, it never would have happened," is all the reply Eddie finally gives. It's not good enough.
"I can't trust that!" Steve turns away, pressing his hands against his eyes hard enough to see light that isn't there. "How am I supposed to believe you? You didn't even- you didn't even call. It was like- like you didn't even know that I knew. But you must have found out. That's why you're here." Steve drops his hand and turns around. "Who told you I knew?"
Eddie swallows. "Max."
Steve nods because of course it was Max. She was the one who handed him the tabloid with the picture in it, three days ago. "So, if you didn't know I knew, you would have, what, never told me?"
"NO, no, I just- I didn't know what to say. How to say it. But then Max called yesterday and-" Eddie says Max's name with too much bite, like it's a curse. Like Max tattled on Eddie instead of exposed his betrayal.
"Shut. Up," Steve growls, "you don't get to be mad at Max for your fucking mistake! I've know you're a goddamn cheater for three days, and it's not until Max let you know that I knew, that you decided to fix it? Well, it can't be fixed, Eddie!"
"Steve, please," Eddie is crying, and Steve's seen him cry a handful of times before but this one hurts deepest. Steve's the reason for the tears, and because you don't just stop loving someone overnight, that hurts.
"No. No! I can't trust you! How many other times has this happened?-"
"Never, never I swear-"
"- Would you have ever said anything if you hadn't been fucking caught on camera?!"
"Yes, of course I would have!"
"How am I ever going to believe that?" Steve cries, "I had to learn that the love of my life cheated on me at the same time the rest of the goddamn world did! Jesus Christ, Eddie, when you said you wanted that rockstar life, I thought you meant like, big fancy house, grammy's and an invite to the met gala. Not goddamn sex, drugs and rock n' roll!"
For the first time since Steve's known him, Eddie Munson stands before him with nothing to say.
-
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @skepsiss @afewproblems
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starrystevie · 1 year
Text
eddie figures out that he likes steve all because of nancy fucking wheeler.
it isn't often that they find themselves hanging out just the two of them, quite the opposite. this is the first time they've ever done it and the only reason nancy is even stepping foot inside the munson's new government-provided trailer is because she's having a crisis.
"but what does it mean," she asks, voice muffled as her lips wrap around the opening of her beer bottle before taking a swig. her cheeks hollow and her eyes shut against the feeling of the carbonation bubbling up before she fixes eddie with a glare that he doesn't think is for him. "it didn't... feel this way with barb."
and eddie's just sitting there on the couch, rolling a much needed joint for both of them, trying to follow along with what nancy is saying. she's pacing a hole in the carpet and her hands are flying around in a way that eddie himself does when the wheels in his brain are spinning too fast.
"... what didn't feel what way?"
nancy glares at him again and he gets the feeling that it's directed at him this time. he feels himself shrink under her eyes and wants to raise his hands up in surrender (he gives in and does indeed raise his hands in surrender).
"i think i'm in love with robin, please try and keep up."
eddie stills, his hands in the air and mouth open in shock. nancy's still muttering about something but his brain is stuck on the being-in-love-with-robin part of her tirade. it's not an issue, not in the slightest, and sure he's heard of people who... but he's never met someone who actually-
"are you even listening?" nancy asks, her tone firm. she has a hand on her hip while the other is clenched tightly around the neck of her beer. "what am i supposed to do?! am i just supposed to kiss her and tell her that her eyes are my favorite color and that i miss her when she leaves a room even for just a minute?"
"how should i know?! i'm not in love with robin!" eddie responds and he knows it's the wrong answer by how nancy's whole face falls in the span of .02 seconds. she looks like she's on the brink of tears, frustrated or hopeless or sad, and eddie doesn't know what to do with that either.
"but... you know. what about steve?" nancy's voice is soft now, and paired with her puppy dog eyes, eddie almost doesn't process what she says. "how'd you know with him?"
and if eddie thought he was stunned before, this takes the cake. a nervous laugh bubbles out of him, his face hot and heart pounding. his arms feel a bit like liquid and he doesn't know if he's even breathing anymore.
"nancy, i'm sorry but i think we're on two different wave lengths here." he needs to do something with his hands so he starts to fiddle with his lighter, flicking the zippo open and shut until the clink of the metal sounds too loud in the quiet room. "i don't.... love steve."
tears start to roll down her cheeks and yeah, eddie definitely messed up somewhere. she's wiping the drops away furiously like she's surprised they even dared to show up and she's biting her lip in a way that looks like it hurts.
"what are you talking about? of course you do." her eyebrows furrow which makes her look even angrier or disgusted and eddie feels like they're on a tightrope in his living room that's about to snap away from underneath them.
"well yeah, i... love him," he stutters over the words, "like i love you and rob and everyone. but not like... love love."
nancy's laugh sounds way too harsh for it to have come out of her. "are you sure? you stare at his ass more than i stare at robin's." she takes a deep breath, ignores the gasp of indignation that her statement gets out of eddie, and tilts her chin up like she's taking the high ground.
"i do not!"
"do too! and you're always looking for him when you walk into a room, like it doesn't matter if we're there, you only look for him. and you sit right next to him even if there's an open seat that's more comfortable. and you have this little, i don't know, tic when he smiles that makes you wiggle your fingers and you-"
"wheeler, you gotta stop."
"-always listen to him and he does all of that back for you and it's so obvious. i can't believe you didn't know you were in love with steve! you do everything that i do for robin and i'm in love with her so it must mean you're in love with steve and- holy shit i'm in love with robin."
the silence after nancy stops rings loud in his ears. honestly, he hadn't really given it any thought before but it makes sense.
the very idea of steve has his heart feeling a way it hasn't since he was nine and tracy nichols gave him a shiny rock on valentine's day. he does always look for steve when he enters a room, his very presence calming and dependable. he does sit next to him no matter what, their sides pressed together, heat radiating between them like a blanket. and god, when steve smiles, he does have to move his fingers, something to get out these jolts of energy that he feels licking through his veins.
steve is good and steve is a bit of an asshole but eddie likes that and suddenly the line between platonic and romantic seems to have vanished because holy shit, how did he live for the past year without spending every day loving steve harrington?
eddie reaches for the half rolled joint, licks at the paper to close it and lights up quickly. he holds the smoke in his lungs for probably too long but couldn't care less because he's now having a crisis of his own thanks to nancy.
"goddamnit," eddie hisses out as he exhales. "i'm in love with steve."
nancy looks smug, her arm extended as she waits for eddie to pass the joint to her before taking a hit. "that's what i'm saying."
"but i'm not... you know."
nancy rolls her eyes. "it's not going to bite you if you say it, eddie."
"i'm not gay."
the silence seems louder now as the paper on the joint sizzles. there's a dog somewhere in the park barking and he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.
"neither am i." nancy responds quietly with a shrug of her shoulders. "but i am for robin. and you are for steve."
she passes the joint back over to eddie and stands up from the couch, wipes off imaginary crumbs from her pants like she didn't just turn eddie's world upside down.
"i think i'm gonna go. i have a lady to woo." nancy looks happy. it's a good look on her, one he doesn't see all that often what with everything that's happened to them in the past year. she deserves it, he thinks, happiness.
"let me know how it goes," he calls to her as she stops at the trailer door.
"i will." with a tilt of her head and a with a gleam in her eye, she gives eddie yet another look that he doesn't know if he wants to try and decipher. "you should call him."
eddie snorts and takes a hit, rolling his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling so he doesn't have to look at nancy's all knowing eyes. it isn't that he's scared to call steve, it's that he's terrified. petrified. what would he say? what would steve say? he just figured out that he loves him, he hasn't had time to prepare a whole speech to declare it and-
"eddie." nancy's voice is sharp but certain and part of him thinks that robin is a lucky woman to have nancy wheeler falling in love with her. "trust me. call him."
after she's gone, he finishes the joint. he sits in the silence of his trailer and pulls hit after hit of sticky smoke until it's down the end and burning his fingertips. he stares at the ceiling some more, contemplates what to say, how to say it, how to do anything without throwing up.
he wonders if wayne knows, if he saw what nancy saw, what he thinks of eddie falling in with a guy. he wonders if this will change everything. wonders if it'll change for better or worse. wonders if he'll have to skip town and change his name like he imagined doing after he was cleared of murder.
picking up the phone is easy, dialing is easier when he has steve's number memorized like the back of his hand.
"hello?" steve mutters like he's been roused out of sleep. his voice is scruffy and somehow soft and eddie knows he's going to throw up.
"steve."
"hey, man. is everything okay?"
and it makes eddie's heart flutter in a way that a generic question shouldn't but damn it, he's in love. he's allowed.
"yeah, yeah. everything's good i just-" eddie sighs, scrubs a hand down his face to stop from twirling the phone cord in his fingers. "do you wanna maybe come over? watch a movie or something?"
eddie can almost hear the smile in his voice when he breathes out a yes, thanking whatever higher powers there may be for nancy wheeler.
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keeksandgigz · 3 months
Note
“you’re mine.” with eddie spaghetti of course 🤭
possessive eddie actually drives me up a wall
im also gonna add "“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making.”" just because it made my brain short circuit
Once again 18+ is not a suggestion, but a big fat order to get the fuck away from here <3
Cruel and relentless, the way that his hips are snapping into you.
He'd seen you flirt with Steve, you and him hanging out during a campaign at Mike's house, while he had to sit and stew in his chair, fuming behind a cardboard screen as you kept on laughing at his jokes and drinking from his beer, gingerly brushing his hand whenever you'd take the glass from Steve, letting your touch linger for longer than usual over the boy's hand.
Touch lingering for longer than friends should touch.
He barely made it home when you'd been slammed against a wall, as you laughed at his poor attempts at putting together his shattered ego.
Even now, feeling the length of his cock snapping into you, you're relentlessly not giving up your fight, as you pretend nothing he's doing affects you.
"God, Eddie, you're such a shit lay. Why did I agree at this whole fuckbuddy thing again?" you look up at him, impenetrable eyes as you work so hard not to let him see through you.
"You're really fuckin' asking for it, sweets" he grits through his teeth, and he sees your exterior falter for a second, at the way your bottom lip shivers when his thrusts angle upwards.
"Should've gone home with Steve, at least I wouldn't be fucking bored out of my mind here. Maybe he would be actually making me feel good, wouldn't he, Eddie?" and your smirk sends him into orbit as he stills his hips.
"Alright, that's it" he huffs, grabbing you by the thighs and flipping you over as he slips out and slams back into you again. The new angle makes it really hard to keep the tough exterior going, as he keeps on hitting so deep that it makes your brain blank.
"What were you saying about Steve, sweets?" he taunts, hand reaching over to press your head against his pillow, muffling the desperate moans and whines spilling from you.
"Steve?" brain going blank, a well endowed smack against your right ass cheek drives it home.
“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making, since apparently I'm such a shit lay, aren't I?" he chuckles at that, chest leaning over your back, feeling the heat and the sweat radiating from him "Answer me. Am I a shit lay, sweetness?" he says it so low it's practically a whisper as wet noises fill the room.
His other hand reaches in between your legs, and you begin squealing, feeling a familiar sense of tightness in your tummy as the volume of your noises begins to get louder and louder, feeding into Eddie's now- restored ego.
"Mhm, yeah. That's what I thought" as he delivers one more sharp thrust, feeling you fall apart around him. Gushing, while you whimper at the slow thrust he's giving you as you ride out your high.
He coos, hand sneaking up on your back, rubbing up and down "Aw, that's right, baby. You're mine, aren't you?"
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wynnyfryd · 5 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 25
part 1 | part 24 | ao3
cw: throwing up, recreational alcohol & drug use
“Well, thank fuck I didn’t wear the Reeboks,” Eddie laughs.
Steve groans 'Jesus,' because he doesn't know what else there is to say to that. Eddie came out of nowhere. Materialized like some kind of freaky wizard. And that would— that would be on brand, wouldn’t it?
Eddie the magician. Eddie the shapeshifter.
Maybe Eddie is Misty? Would explain why she left him all those dead rats when he first—
“Oh, fuck.” His stomach rolls at the thought, a hot-cold-nasty-sick shiver down his spine, and he bends forward to retch again. Hits the grass this time at least, right between Eddie’s boots; groans and spits drool into the dirt. Eddie smooths a hand between his shoulder blades, which is nice, even if everything else about this totally blows.
“Godddd,” he moans when the dry heaving stops. He lifts his head to apologize and nearly tips himself into the mess he just made.
“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey; easy,” Eddie shushes, steadying him with both hands. Warm palms against his biceps; firm grip.
“S’nice.”
“Yeah?” Eddie grins, private and soft. "Alright, arms up."
"Mmh?"
"Up! Come on, sweetheart, up you get." He loops Steve’s arms around his neck, wearing him like a cape. Steve giggles into his fluffy curls, nuzzles his nose into them because they're warm and Eddie smells nice, and time does that weird drunk thing where Steve slow blinks and suddenly they're a hundred yards away.
Edge of the creek, downstream from the falls where the water’s just a thin squiggle cut through smooth, mossy stone. Eddie's got Steve facedown across his lap, gathering up his hair and making a headband with his hands, and he's apologizing in advance for Steve-doesn't-know-what.
"Big breath," Eddie warns him, and then he dips Steve's face in the icy stream like he's battering fried chicken in a goddamn egg wash. Two quick dunks, the cold ripping through Steve's nerves; it's all finger-licking fucked.
"What the hell?!" Steve splutters when Eddie lifts him up, rolls him onto his back and smiles down at him.
"Mornin', sunshine!"
"Jesus Christ!"
Eddie's laughing at him hard. "Sorry, big boy. Had to wake you up somehow."
He brushes Steve's bangs off his face, and Steve pants up at him, wide awake now. Trembling. In the dark, Eddie's eyes look nearly black. Two inkpots full of moonlight.
“'M awake," Steve mumbles to distract himself from the sudden kick-throb behind his ribs. "Sorry I barfed on your shoes."
“Ah, comes with the territory.” Eddie kicks his legs out, rinsing the toes of his boots off in the stream. “Drug dealer, remember? Seen a lot worse than this at parties, sweetheart, I can promise you that."
Steve blinks at him. Still feels syrupy and slow like he's wading through mud. Sweetheart. The word's a fog machine in his mind. Hazy warmth; candy clouds. "If... If you're a drug dealer, then... should've woken me up with drugs."
"Oh?"
"Mhmm. Jus' rude not to, really."
Eddie's lips quirk. His eyes are soft, his fingers combing through Steve's hair, and Steve's head is still in his lap, even though it probably shouldn't be. "If you want coke..." he murmurs, his voice a low, fond rumble, "you can just ask for it."
"Yeah?"
"Sure, Stevie."
Steve watches with rapt attention as Eddie reaches into his jacket, pulls out a little baggie and holds it up in question. Steve gulps; nods.
Fuck yeah. He hasn't had coke in forever.
Eddie pours the smallest amount onto the back of one hand, licks the thumb of his other and presses it into the pile, coating it in white powder. He brings it up to Steve's mouth and rests it right against his lip — barest hint of pressure; not hovering, not pushing in. "Well, go on," he smirks.
Steve makes a questioning sound that comes out like a whine, a high, nasal thing in the back of his throat. His cock stirs in his jeans.
"Ask me," Eddie whispers.
"Can I have it?" Steve asks. He can feel Eddie's thumb against his lips as he speaks; has to stop himself from flicking out his tongue to get a taste. "Please?"
"Fuck," Eddie hisses between his teeth. "Yeah, baby." He presses into the meat of Steve's bottom lip; drags it down, exposes skin that's wet and warm. Dances over it with the pad of his thumb — the inside of Steve's lip, his gums, his tongue.
There's no mistaking the sound Steve makes for anything but a moan, throaty and deep as he sucks Eddie's thumb deeper into his mouth; hollows his cheeks, makes Eddie gasp. Makes him twitch his hips up under Steve, and it's good, and Steve feels like there are live wires where his veins used to be, the rush of the coke and Eddie's hands and Eddie's noises in his good ear, and—
"Hey!" someone shouts across the field. Eddie moves like he's been shot at, flinching away from Steve entirely, a hand pressed over his lap as he turns to see who's coming.
Steve lifts his head to look. His mouth is buzzing, lips full and flushed like he's been kissing someone. Kissing Eddie. God, he wants to. Wants to hike him up the falls, shove him hard against a tree.
But he can't. Because Jason Carver's here now.
Great.
part 26
gonna do the tag lists in separate reblogs from now on (with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content), comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
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Party Animal
Steve hated parties. And who could blame him? The infamous Halloween party of 1984 left more scars on his heart than he carried from all his other misadventures. Alcohol made people say thinks they buried deep inside, but then instead of owning up to them, they'd say "I was drunk", as if that was any excuse. So yes, Steve and parties didn't go together anymore.
And yet he stupidly decided to throw one anyway.
Look, they deserved it. All of them did - Eddie, Nancy, Robin, even Jonathan and Argyle, they all earned acting like actual teenagers for one evening. Steve wanted to see Eddie, now miraculously his boyfriend, just have fun, laugh, be silly. So a party it was.
It all went great - dancing, drinking, nibbling on mountains of Argyle's homemade pizza - but eventually they all got drunk. Not Steve, he just sipped one beer and kept an eye on everyone. Jonathan and Argyle were smoking outside, Nancy and Robin flirted in the most embarrassing way possible and Eddie...
Steve heard sniffling from the bathroom and his heart sank.
He didn't want to go there. He didn't want to be told that this was all a misunderstanding, that he pressured Eddie with his flirting, didn't want to hear he's bullshit again.
But no matter how terrified he was, he could never abandon Eddie. So he went in.
Eddie was leaning over the sink, wiping at his face and trying to control his breathing. "Shit..." he muttered and turned away from Steve. "Sorry, I...uh. I'll be there in a sec."
"Eddie..." It came out as a whisper. "Are...are you okay? Did I do something?"
Eddie just chuckled and pulled hair in front of his face. "Sure did," he mumbled.
And it made horrible sense to Steve. Of course he was the reason Eddie was crying. He couldn't help fucking up, he'd tried so hard to change but apparently it was 1984 all over again. So he took a deep breath and waited for the final blow.
"You're just perfect, Stevie."
Oh.
That wasn't what being broken up with sounded like. In fact, Eddie didn't seem angry at him at all. "...sorry?"
Eddie laughed, wet and high in his throat. "Like, you...you are too good to be true, you know? You throw a party for us and then you even don't drink so we're all cared for if anything happens? You...you give your best friend a green light to date your ex who shredded your heart to pieces? You invite the guy that your ex cheated on you with and his friend? You're just so good about it. And you're funny and so bitchy that I want to kiss you all the time. And I just...I love you so much, you know? And I've never felt that way about anyone and it's fucking scary, man."
Steve's racing thoughts came to a screching halt. Where he was too busy panicking and praying he'd still have time to fix whatever he did, now his brain settled on maybe I'm not getting broken up with? "So, uh..." he muttered as he watched Eddie try fix his eyeliner, "...there's, like, nothing wrong? Or maybe...do you want me to go slower? I know I can be a lot."
His boyfriend gave an incredulous laugh. There was no salvaging the eyeliner now, it was getting caught in Eddie's early crow feet, and Steve had never seen a more beautiful sight. "No, Steve. You're not a lot. In fact, you're just enough in every single way, but knowing that you're it for me, that good things can happen...it makes me terrified. I've never put all my drugs in a single lunchbox, or whatever metaphor you want to use for it, but with you I'm just throwing all the caution into the wind. And for the first time, I..." he stopped, chewing on his lip, "...I don't want to run away when I mess up. I want to stay, face the music and fix it. You're re-writing the Munson doctrine again and again and I just...I don't want you to settle for me, Steve. You are the whole package and I'm still cleaning all my messes. I guess today showed me that and I...yeah. Sorry about all this," he pointed at his tear-streaked face.
Eddie suddenly seemed so small, so insecure, and that wouldn't do. It woke Steve up from his frozen state and he took a step forward, cradling Eddie's face in his palms. "I'm not. Settling for you, that is." He was probably smudging the black even more, but Eddie would have been beautiful to him even fully covered in grime, and there were more important things to focus on. "Eddie, you keep talking about the Munson doctrine and being work in progress, but you don't see how you've thrown all the stuff I used to do out of the window, and I'm better for it. With you, I don't feel rushed, I don't have to perform or pretend. I can just live in the moment."
As he continued his speech, something strange started happening. Seeing people cry normally had a guaranteed effect on Steve - just one tear, quiet sob and he pushed his emotions down to be dealt with later or possibly never, someone needed him, and that was the priority. But now, staring at Eddie's wet eyes and shaky hands? He felt his own face crumbling and what better place to hide it than in Eddie's Metallica t-shirt. It smelled of cigarettes, pizza and the cheap laundry detergent that had come to mean home to Steve. "Sorry," he choked out. "Shit. I was...sorry, I'm supposed to be...you know. Consoling you. But I heard you crying and I thought...I..."
Eddie shook his head and tightened his grip on Steve's waist. "Oh Stevie. Whatever that pretty head of yours thought of, it's not happening. Unless it's kissing me, which duh, that's happening, if you want to of course, and staying with me to the point that you're sick of me."
Steve just whimpered into Eddie's shoulder, something that suspiciously sounded like "Now who's perfect, huh?"
His boyfriend just chuckled. "I guess that in a way, we both are. Maybe for each other?" If he'd aimed for self-deprecating tone, he failed. Instead, it was hopeful.
Steve didn't answer, but his embrace said it all.
They remained wrapped around each other for a long while, until Eddie whispered in Steve's ear: "how about we let the others celebrate on their own, hm? They won't be driving, their stuff is already in the guest bedrooms, and I hear your bed is wonderful this time of the year."
There was a muffled "yes" coming from Eddie's shoulder, and a few adjustments and "Good night!"s later, they found themselves in Steve's bedroom. Eddie managed to remove most of the rogue eyeliner, which was lucky. The time in the bathroom wasn't the last time he shed a tear that day, because as they were falling asleep, Steve said:
"You might be the first person who is dating the real me, and I'd like you to be the last one as well."
Tomorrow, he'd hold a funeral for the Munson doctrine. But today, he was going to wrap himself around Steve like a cuddly octopus and know that even if he doesn't manage to hold on tight the whole night, Steve would be there in the morning.
331 notes · View notes