Last Seen Blogs
mynewsstore
My News Store
gay-nut
and when my voice is screamin out
bungaruslim-blog
your sunshine mixed with a lilttle hurricane
awieberdink-blog
Yup
ghantewala
Untitled
Text
“Oh my god, Robin.” Steve is whispering into the mouth piece of his desk phone, begging she can hear him. Because he’s not going to be removing his hovering hand from over his mouth, while he groans into the phone, risking being overheard.
“What?” She sounds exasperated but not annoyed.
“You know the new guy? The one starting in IT today?”
“Yeah?” He can hear her clicking the ballpoint pen he thought he hid last week.
“He is so hot, and I need your help finding out if he plays for our team.”
“Your team, Steve. If he played for my team, this would be a different conversation. Why can’t you figure it out yourself?”
“Because Mike was the one that brought him by and you know how Mike feels about me. I’m pretty sure he told Eddie I was an asshole or something because he barely made eye contact. I don’t want to come on too strong and then I make it worse if he’s straight.” Steve glances over his cube wall to ensure no one’s listening. “Please, do this for me and I’ll buy you tacos for lunch.”
“Fine, oh speak of the devil. Here they come.” Steve hears her chair squeak. “I’ll call you back.”
They hang up and Steve leans in his chair trying to peer down the aisle and see if he can watch the interaction. Robin’s desk isn’t quite down the line so he can only see the top of Mike and Eddie’s head. Neither of their skulls are giving anything away so he sighs and accepts he’ll have to wait for Robin’s call.
After a painstaking 7 minutes Steve’s phone rings. He grabs it immediately and grunts an acknowledgment.
“Um.”
Steve’s stomach drops because that’s not Robin’s voice. “Sorry, this is Steve.”
“Hey, um, it’s Eddie. We just met.”
“Yeah,” Steve’s voice lilts up. “What’s up?”
“Oh, Robin said you had a question about something.” Of course she did.
“Uh, did she mention what it was about?” He’s going to murder her.
“No,” he sounds annoyed.
Think quick. “I was…do you play softball? I’m on a league and we’re always looking for new players.”
“No?” He’s probably wondering why he had Robin ask him to call. “Not really a sports guy.”
“Oh, yeah ok. That makes sense.” Steve rubs the back of his neck scrambling for conversation.
“Why does that make sense?”
Shit. “No, I just noticed your rings and nail polish. I can never keep polish on my nails during the season. Gets chipped too easily.” Eddie hums some kind of acknowledgment that Steve can’t interpret. “You’re probably in a band or something, way cooler than softball.” Steve sighs and needs to get out of this shit show of a conversation stat.
“I play guitar,” Eddie states simply.
“See? Yeah, so much cooler than softball. I never learned how to play anything. Wanted to, thought it would get me more chicks in high school.” Steve realizes what that sounds like and rushes to add. “Or anyone now.”
“Yeah, ok. Was there something computer related you needed help with?”
Steve wants to jump off the fifth floor of this building because why is he such a disaster at this? “Sorry, no. You’re probably busy. It was nice meeting you.”
“Yeah, you too, man.”
“Bye,” Eddie doesn’t respond and Steve drops the receiver down like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
“Well that was embarrassing.” Steve whips around to see Robin hovering behind him. “I set you up an easy hit and that’s what you do with it?” She has her right hand on her hip and her left hanging on the edge of his cube wall.
“You sabotaged me.” He points his finger at her then pushes himself to his feet. He needs more coffee.
“I did nothing of the sort.” She follows close behind as he weaves through the maze toward the break room.
“Yes you did. I asked you to find out and keep me away from the entire thing. You didn’t even send me a courtesy Slack message. This does not equal tacos.”
“Not fair!” She whines as he pushes the door open with his shoulder.
“It’s only fair since you didn’t do anything. I was the one who looked like an idiot fumbling to come up with something to say to the guy because my best friend refused to find out if he’s queer on her own.”
Robin’s eyes are wide and she’s not speaking which slightly terrifies Steve. He turns around to see the man of the hour pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“Hmm,” Eddie tuts, then leans against the counter with a level of nonchalance that shouldn’t be doing something for Steve. “That explains that. Glad I won’t be obsessing the rest of the day about what in the world the hot guy was going on about.”
Eddie’s eyes flick up to Steve and when Steve sees the corner of Eddie’s mouth tick up he can’t help it when a blush spreads across his cheeks. Steve thinks he hears Robin back out of the room but he’s not going to turn around to verify.
“My band has a show this Friday. You should come.” He says while pushing his body away from the counter and stalking toward Steve.
“Yeah,” Steve watches the man move closer.
“I’ll email you the info.” Eddie stops a foot in front of Steve, much too close for casual, and it sends a rush of butterflies through his gut. “Harrington, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“Cool,” Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze as he steps past. “Oh and it’s too bad you don’t paint your nails more. I bet your fingers look pretty wrapped around…that bat.” Steve feels the weight of the pause and so does his dick if the twitch it gives means anything. “See ya later, man.”
When Eddie disappears through the doorway and Steve’s alone he exhales loudly just before Robin’s pushing her way back into the break room.
“Soooooo?”
“Wanna split the carne asada plate?”
“Yes!” She fist bumps into the air. “Knew it.”
“Also, how does manicures at lunch tomorrow sound?” She cocks her head at him. “He thinks my fingers would look good painted when holding-“
“Don’t!” She interrupts.
“A baseball bat,” he says innocently.
“Uh huh,” she narrows her eyes. “As long as you’re driving, I’m game.”
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.
Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.
The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.
To Metallica.
And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.
"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.
Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."
"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.
"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"
He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.
"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.
"Well, Dio's pretty okay."
This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.
---
Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.
"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.
Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"
He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.
"You want chips?" He asks.
"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.
"What?"
"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."
And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.
"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"
Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--
"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."
"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."
He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.
---
"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.
"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.
"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.
"Wha--huh?" He blinks.
"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."
"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.
Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.
"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.
"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.
Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.
---
Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.
He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.
Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.
A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.
---
It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.
There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."
He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"
Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"
Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."
"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"
"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."
"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."
Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."
"Of course. It's just--this is just you."
He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."
"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.
He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.
The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"
"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."
He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."
"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.
He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."
"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.
He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.
It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.
"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.
"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.
"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"
Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."
"Yeah?"
"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."
"Well, stick around for a while."
Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Why do you hate straight people
heres my paypal
i’ll answer your question when i recieve payment :) thank you so much!
177K notes
·
View notes
Text
just how long is forever? // not long enough, with you
pssst. check this out on inprnt :]
10K notes
·
View notes
Text
the boys of class 1A love to go to kirishima for advice
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
fall guy steddie AU cause its all i can think about
steve is ryan gosling, confident, charming, amazing at what he does. when he breaks his back there's nothing he can do but run away.
he doesn't like leaving the love of his life, in fact he hates himself for it every day of his life.
so when he gets the call that eddie aka emily blunt wants him on his set? he's on a plane faster than he can think.
director eddie being so into his film but also his feels and dropping dramatic dialogue after dialogue and making steve walk through hell for him, but steve is steve.
golden retriever happy boy steve melting eddies heart once again as they catch the bad guy in the end.
them kissing in front of explosions, steve promising to be at eddies side until the end of time and eddie writing film after film with steve being able to be the stunt double of the main role.
its perfect and no one can change my mind
#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#the fall guy#fall guy#director!eddie#stuntactor!steve#emily blunt#ryan gosling
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
never gonna give you up
for @steddiemicrofic "fake" prompt that needed to include the words: and, around, desert, down, give, gonna, let, never, run, up, you
1987 words | rated e | no cw | tags: modern au, flirting, bisexual steve harrington, handjobs, some platonic stobin, ridiculous and unserious
😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎
"This might be the first time someone's deserted me in the middle of a date," Steve said into the phone.
"You aren't counting that one time Sarah left during the movie?" Robin asked.
"She had a family emergency!" Steve exclaimed.
"Right, and I'm definitely going on a date with a dude later."
"You're saying she didn't have a family emergency?"
Steve remembered that date, remembered how she'd even had tears in her eyes when she said her mom called and she had to run home.
"You're gonna unpack that all night, aren't you?" Robin sighed on the other end. "Steve, just go home. Take a week off from trying to get into some poor woman's pants. Leave some of them for me to get into. I beg you."
"What makes you think they'd come running to you?" Steve looked over at a guy standing at the counter of the diner, clearly trying to pick up his order. From the back, he seemed tall, but that could be the black skinny jeans and boots combo.
"Let me talk to them for one minute and I'll have them convinced."
The guy turned as the woman behind the counter walked to the kitchen, his eyes settling on Steve talking on his cell phone at the table in the corner. It's not like there were many people here on a Monday night, nothing else to look at but Steve awkwardly sitting by himself with two glasses on the table.
The guy started to walk over, and Steve recognized him immediately.
"Gotta go, Robs."
"What? How are you done wallowing already?"
He hung up before she could continue, putting his phone face down on the table.
"Well, well, well. Never thought I'd see the day where Steve Harrington shows back up in Hawkins."
Eddie Munson didn't know shit about Steve, never really had. He thought he did, just like everyone else in high school, but the gossip that followed him around never had much truth to it. He really only had two girlfriends for most of high school, and only one of them was serious enough for him to sleep with.
The sleeping around came after his move to Chicago, when he was constantly surrounded by women who would give him all the attention he wanted.
"Never really thought I'd be back," he said with a genuine smile. Kill them with kindness or whatever his grandmother used to say.
It seemed to throw Eddie off at least, his mouth opening and closing around whatever rebuttal he planned.
"So why are you here? Visiting the parents?" Eddie crossed his arms, leaned his hip against the edge of the table.
"Nah, came to visit Dustin Henderson. Staying for a few more days and thought it would be nice to take someone out. I guess she didn't agree," Steve shrugged.
Eddie glanced down at the empty spot across from him, the glass on the table with half of the drink missing. He looked back at Steve's face.
He sat down across from him and smirked.
"So. Come here often, sunshine?"
Steve snorted, shaking his head as he looked up at Eddie.
"Not as often as I would if I was coming to see you," Steve replied, taking a sip of his drink.
Eddie clearly wasn't expecting him to flirt back. He recovered quickly, though.
"I suppose we could fix that, then, huh?"
Steve looked him up and down, taking in the messy bun his curly hair was pulled into, the pen mark on his cheek, tattoos up and down his arm.
"I suppose we could."
Waking up in Eddie Munson's bed was definitely not what he expected when he arrived in Hawkins two days ago, but stranger things had happened.
He opened his eyes to sunlight streaming in through the curtains and Eddie's warm body pressed against his back.
Neither of them had gotten dressed after their shower last night, too tired to do anything more than rinse off the sweat and cum from hours of making each other come undone.
Steve let himself have this. Eddie would kick him out when he woke up, kindly of course, but he'd make it clear to Steve that this was a one night thing. No matter how good it was, Steve wasn't an idiot. He knew Eddie would never actually be interested in a guy like him.
"Mmm. Stop thinkin' s' loud," Eddie's lips brushed against the back of Steve's neck in a half-kiss, sending a shiver down his spine. "'s too early."
Steve smiled to himself, let Eddie's arms tighten around him and hold him close for a bit longer.
"I should probably head back to the Henderson's. Claudia will be worried if I'm not there for lunch," Steve said quietly.
"Just text Dustin, tell him your date went well."
Steve shouldn't get his hopes up. It's not like he was gonna do long distance, and even if he would be willing, there was no way Eddie would.
"I can't lie to him," Steve felt his heart flip flop in his chest at the admission.
Eddie's head lifted and his breath hit the side of Steve's face instead of his shoulder. "Did it not go well? I thought it- well, I thought it went great, actually."
Steve turned in Eddie's arms, facing him, placing his hands on his chest. "It did go well! It did."
"Okay, then…"
"It's just this wasn't exactly a date, was it? You just felt bad for me, probably wanted to see if the rumors were true."
"What rumors?"
"You know. The ones about me sleeping around, being good with my mouth." Steve's eyes searched Eddie's, looking for any hint of recognition. When none came, he continued. "How I let anyone fuck me on the first date?"
Eddie's brows furrowed. "Is that what people say about you?"
"You don't have to act dumb, Eddie. Some of it's true."
Eddie's hands were rubbing up and down his back, making goosebumps appear on his skin. "You are good with your mouth. That one’s true. The rest though? I never believed any of that shit.”
“Really? Why not?”
Eddie’s hand traced along Steve’s only tattoo, a robin placed just under his collarbone. “Because I never gave much thought to rumors. Lord knows most of the ones about me weren’t true.”
Steve thought about all the rumors he’d heard about Eddie in high school.
Back then, he may have believed some of them, but he had firsthand experience with things getting out of hand.
“You can think what you want, but I brought you back here because I genuinely enjoyed talking to you at the diner. I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wanted to get rid of you. Trust me. I’m not really a one and done guy,” Eddie’s hand cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing along his cheekbone. “If you’re in a rush to go, I can’t stop you. But I think staying in bed with you all morning sounds pretty fuckin’ good.”
Steve’s breath hitched, his heart kicked up in his chest. “You know, I’ve actually never bottomed before last night.”
Eddie’s eyes widened. “Seriously? Never?”
Steve shook his head. “Never found anyone I could trust to be gentle.”
“Was I gentle enough? Shit, you should’ve told me. I used spit as lube, Steve! That couldn’t have been comfortable.” Eddie pulled away a few inches, mumbling to himself in a panic.
“Eddie.” Steve tried to get his attention back on him. “Eds.”
Steve shifted forward, his front pressing against Eddie’s, his half-hard cock finding friction against Eddie’s thigh.
They both groaned as Steve rocked against him again.
“Everything was perfect, Eds. Only thing that would make it better is if I get to watch you come again right now," Steve said against his lips, pushing his hips forward so their cocks brushed against each other.
"Fuck, keep doing that and you'll get your wish, sweetheart."
He was sensitive, worked up from the hot breath against his mouth, the tongue brushing against his bottom lip. Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd been this wrapped up in someone, this attentive to the sounds they made, this focused on making sure they both felt good.
The friction was enough on its own to get Steve to the edge, and if Eddie's moans were anything to go off of, he was right there with him.
Steve never felt safe enough to be loud, not until he had Eddie begging him to make noise.
"C'mon, Stevie. Wanna hear how good you feel. Sounds so good when you can't hold it back," Eddie's hand gripped his hip, tugging him closer. They were both leaking precum, dripping down each other's lengths and losing track of where one of them ended and the other began.
Steve couldn't hold it back, didn't want to anyway. Letting Eddie hear how good he felt was a need.
"You gonna come with me, sweetheart?" Eddie gasped out as he wrapped his hand around both of them, slowing his hips to focus on moving his hand, finding the perfect angle and pace to get them both over the edge.
Steve bit his lip and nodded, barely holding back a whimper as Eddie's grip tightened around them.
"Come for me, Stevie."
Eddie's voice had a direct link to Steve's cock, maybe through the hand wrapped around him. Steve came with a shout, curling forward so his forehead fell against Eddie's shoulder.
He was overstimulated, fighting the urge to buck into his hand and pull away at the same time.
Steve pulled his head back to watch as Eddie groaned, cum hitting both of their stomachs as he worked himself through his orgasm.
They both lay there in silence, Eddie's grip loose around them as they both softened. They'd need to clean up before the cum dried in Steve's chest hairs and made them sticky, but moving seemed like an impossible task.
"You live in Chicago now?" Eddie asked suddenly, making Steve jump. He rubbed his cleaner hand on his back in silent apology.
"Yeah," Steve breathed out. "With Robin Buckley. From band?"
"I know Robin. She used to come to my shows before she moved."
"Small world."
Eddie snorted. "Just Hawkins." Eddie sat up, pulling Steve with him. "You know, the guys in my band have been considering moving to Chicago. Think it's a good place for a metal band?"
Steve searched his face for any clues as to what he was really asking. Certainly he didn't expect Steve to know if a metal band would feel at home somewhere.
"I…guess?" Steve answered.
"I'll just text Robin," Eddie wiped his hand on the sheets and reached over to the bedside table to grab his phone.
"Wait. You keep in touch with Robin?" Steve felt like he was being pranked.
"Not as much as I should, but yeah. We caught up last time she visited her parents." Eddie typed on his phone for a moment, then looked up at Steve with a smirk. "Problem with that?"
"No, I'm just kinda shocked she's never really mentioned it." Steve stood up with shaking legs. "I should probably grab a shower and go."
"You normally a runner?" Eddie asked, amused.
"No? Why do you ask?"
"It's just the second time you've been rushing to leave. Thought I told you I wanted you here."
Steve knew what he wanted, and he knew it was too much, too fast, too ridiculous for Eddie to even consider it.
But maybe, if he played his cards right, maybe he could have Eddie for more than today.
"Shower with me?" Steve settled on, pouting his bottom lip out.
"And then?" Eddie pushed.
Steve didn't know what to do, but he knew what he wanted.
"And then we'll go back to the diner and actually eat something together." Eddie nodded, encouraging him to continue. "And then you give me your number."
"For?"
"Planning our next date."
554 notes
·
View notes
Text
I like the fics in which Steve gets handsy and cuddly when he gets high. However, I like the idea that he's one of those guys who gets very tactile sensitive with pot and all of that is not just emotional seeking but tactile sensory seeking.
Steve and Eddie get high to relax and Eddie picks up on it without realizing it. Eddie is a handsy guy when relaxed enough with someone.
It starts small. Getting rowdy watching TV has Steve's leg up on Eddie's lap and his hand just rest there, thumb moving back and forth just a bit. An arm over the shoulder plays with Steve's hair. It's all so slow building and platonic that they both just have reached puppy pile level and even when they aren't high they are always touching, albeit not as much.
Until one day Steve is on a date that starts getting physical and it feels off. He finds himself wishing she'd touch him like Eddie does, the way that makes him relax. The date ends early, Steve is up all night thinking about it, then talking about it with Robin.
Finally he goes to see Eddie, and puts on 'the moves'TM.
"Stevie, are you putting the moves on me?" Eddie laughs, not really believing what's happening.
"Yeah, is it working?"
"I..."
Steve touches Eddies face softly.
"Yeah, yeah I think you're doing good... with ah that, this, um. Yes."
Eddie is flustered but smiles. Steve smiles.
"Good" Steve says and kisses Eddie.
The next time they get high they make out and figure out Steve gets extra tactile sensitive in other fun ways.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
back on my steddie bullshit fr
Thinking about hope(ful)less romantic Steve driving to Eddie's trailer in the pouring rain to finally confess his love after months of dancing around each other and almost-confessions that crumble on the tips of their tongues before they can become anything real.
Steve finds himself pacing around the ground floor of a house that's too big and too quiet, thinking about a guy who should never, ever have taken up as much of his brain as he currently does. It's a Friday night, and Eddie's most likely out at a gig, or at a bar, or doing nerd shit. He's most likely doing anything but thinking about Steve. And yet here Steve is, entirely preoccupied with the reckless marvel that is Eddie Munson.
Fuck it.
It's been four months since Vecna, and everyone seems to be okay again. It's been long enough that it wouldn't be weird for Steve to make a move, right?
Before Steve can really consider what it is he's about to do, he has his keys in hand and he's heading out towards his car. He doesn't even realize it was raining until he steps out onto the porch, tugging the door shut behind him. And there's not much thought that goes into any of it, really. It's instinctive, the way Steve knows the route to Eddie's place by now. Regardless of the thrashing of his heart, there's an easy kind of familiarity in the sodden streets and jutting roads. Steve's windshield wipers are working double time, fending off the sheets of rain that pile down amidst the humidity of late July; it'd been a cloudless day until the sun set. But like the heaviness of Steve's heart, the clouds had begun to weigh themselves down with water, waiting for the moment where the heft of it all became too much.
Steve hadn't quite beaten those clouds to the punch.
He arrives at Eddie's with really no recollection of how he'd gotten there, only that he needed to see him and nothing was going to get in his way. Eddie's already sitting out on the porch when he pulls up. The dusty ground is darker, saturated with fat, relentless raindrops. Eddie sits on the steps of his trailer, only just covered by the awning. The toes of his sneakers shine with wetness.
"Why are you out here?" Steve asks, clambering out of his car. It's all he can think to say. It's not the words he wants to purge, not the things that have been itching in his throat every time they've been alone together for the last however-many weeks. But it's what comes out.
"Wanted to hear the rain," Eddie responds, a cigarette pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. It's a simple enough response. Shouldn't warrant a reaction. Only, Steve's standing a few yards away, dampening by the moment, and he needs to just get it out.
"I need to- I gotta talk to you," Steve stutters, drifting closer. Eddie's eyes narrow.
"About what?" he asks, clearly skeptical.
"About you. Or, me. Us. I- shit, I used to be good at this." Steve raises a hand to swipe over his mouth: it comes away wet. He's fucking soaked, standing defenceless against the onslaught from above. Eddie flicks the cigarette and the butt lands at the base of the steps. He hinges upright, dropping down a step until the raindrops begin to splatter onto his curls, landing like spits of silver against the glow of the street lamps overhead.
"Good at what?" Eddie calls through the low rumble of the rain.
"Good at- I dunno, confessions? I told Nancy how I felt about her no problem. Robin was a little tougher, but I still got through that, but with you," Steve gushes, entirely unsure as to where he's going with this, "I just can't seem to find the words."
For an impossible amount of time, Eddie stares. His pretty features seem to go through about a half dozen emotions before he settles on something that Steve's soul recognizes as pity. He prepares himself for inevitable rejection.
"You're telling me you can't find the words?" Eddie asks, incredulous, "Dude, i'm a songwriter, a fucking wordsmith, and I've been drawing a blank on you for months!"
Steve squints, a little at a loss.
"What?" he asks, feels stupid for not getting it straight away.
"Steve, I should be able to write songs about the guy I love, right?"
"Well- Yeah- I- Wait, what?" Steve starts before Eddie's words catch up. The rain's growing heavier, beginning to sting his cheeks a little, but he's fixed to the spot, not daring to move any closer. It's Eddie that draws nearer, dropping down the final steps until they're on even footing.
"If you hadn't- If you didn't come over here tonight, I was gonna- I was gonna come to you. I had this whole fuckin' speech planned out - I'm pretty sure it was stupid, honestly, but I wrote it anyway, because I have all these goddamn feelings about you, Steve. And I couldn't find a way to make them sound like anything other than what they are." Eddie's waves are flattening by the second, darkening under the weight of the water falling from above. Steve's heart pounds against his ribs, threatens to break free altogether.
"But I- I came here to- You're- Eddie?"
"Fuck sake, Steve. I'm-"
"Wait." Steve interrupts him, his brain catching up all at once, overfilling and spilling over. "Wait, just let me- Can I say what I was gonna say?"
Eddie folds his arms around himself, chilled by the rain despite the thick warmth of summer around them.
"Sure. Shoot."
Steve heaves in a breath.
"Okay. Eddie. I've been thinking, and you and me, we're good, right? Like, for each other." A droplet of rain catches between Steve's lashes, forcing him to blink it away. Eddie's slim figure remains in front of him, proving that this is real, this isn't some hallucination, some daydream borne of an idle brain. "I think you and me could be something good. Great, even. And I- I- I think I- I know you maybe said it already, and I shouldn't even be-" Eddie strides forward, closing the space between them in a breathless moment. Steve's breath catches in his throat. Eddie's dark eyes dart frantically between Steve's own, so round and wide and beautiful. Steve's so in love with him. "Eddie, I'm- I think I've... fallen in love with you." Steve skates his palms over Eddie's biceps, up and over his shoulders, until he's cradling the sides of Eddie's neck. "Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm in love with you."
Where they're so closely matched in height, Steve's eyes are crossing just to keep his gaze focused on Eddie, who's looking more like the proverbial deer in headlights right now.
"Shit, Harrington," Eddie breathes, and Steve feels it warm against his rain-chilled lips, "took you long enough."
It's a kiss that follows, soft and hesitant, like Steve would do anything but lean into it, like he's anything but head over heels, absolutely and embarrassingly in love. it's a kiss, and it's wet and a little too cold, a little too out in the open, but Steve wouldn't change it for anything.
539 notes
·
View notes
Text
“aren’t you tired of being nice” no!!!! i’m tired of everyone else being mean!!!!!!!!
172K notes
·
View notes
