#actor steve harrington
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"What the fuck did you do?"
Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.
"Well-"
"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"
Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.
“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”
“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”
No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-
He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.
The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since.
Jesus Christ.
“Eddie?”
The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”
In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄
”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“
Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-
He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.
”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.
“Eddie, what-
”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“
Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious.
Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.
Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.
With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-
Anything other than what Steve actually sent.
'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'
And Eddie-
Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath.
Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?
This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.
‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’
He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.
‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’
Fuck fuck fuck.
Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’
Steve saves him by sending another message.
‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’
He- What-
Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.
There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.
‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’
#like everyone else those new pics of joe keery left me kind of#feral. horny. slutty.#so i channeled my feeling a bit#i miiiight do more of this but no promises#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#rockstar eddie munson#actor steve harrington#joey writes#ficlet#fun fact: eddie's tweet was my actual real life message to my friends about those pics
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Request: THIS IDEA JUST SPARKED HOLY SHIT?? OK have you ever watched Hot Ones with Sean Evens (first we feast is the youtube channel) so basically that but Steve is the one being interviewed but he LOVES spicy food??(watch the episode with Florence Pugh i LOVE it but basically I want it to be kinda like that) just yeah that. Jxjxnxnx please and thank you
MY LOVE ❤️ I admit, most of what I watch of really anything is either highlights on Tik Tok or short clips my friends send me because I am out of touch with the cool kids. But Hot Ones is SO GOOD. The Lewis Capaldi episode (I do love him anyways) had me actually almost pee my pants laughing. I hope you love this fun (short, sorry) thing for this! - Mickala ❤️
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“I just don’t know why you got Hot Ones. They could have had the whole band on there making idiots of themselves,” Eddie pouted.
He’d been pouting for two days now.
In fact, his entire band was from the moment Steve called him on tour to let him know that he would be doing the Hot Ones interview next week.
“I told you, they had a last minute cancellation and my schedule just worked. Maybe you’ll get next season,” Steve said over the phone as the oven timer went off to let him know his brownies were done cooking.
“Whatcha makin’ Stevie?” Eddie’s curiosity was adorable.
He was in London, just got off stage from their last show in Europe. Steve was in their home in LA, having the last lazy day in before his awards season started.
“If I tell you, you’ll be sad you’re missing it.”
“Tell us! Tell us!” Gareth said from much closer than Steve would have expected.
“Hi Gare Bear. No personal space tonight?”
Eddie laughed as Steve pulled the brownies out of the oven and shut it off.
“He said personal space is for people who don’t like each other and he likes me very much,” Steve could hear Eddie’s eye roll in his voice. “A shame because I can’t stand him.”
“Play nice boys. You’ll be home in less than 24 hours,” Steve reminded them.
Gareth lived a mile up the road from them with his boyfriend and their excessive amount of cats.
Excessive being four.
Steve was allergic, so any amount of cats seemed excessive to him.
But Steve and Gareth were close, had been since even before Eddie and Steve started dating.
He was Steve’s best man in their wedding, much to Dustin’s bafflement. He only didn’t argue because Eddie softened the blow by asking him to be his own best man.
Usually if baked goods or a home cooked meal were involved, Gareth would show up at their door ready to partake.
“You’ll be home when I get there?”
“Yep. Cleared my whole day just for you, baby.”
“Good. Miss you.
“Miss you too. You heading to bed?” Steve poked at the brownies, making sure they were cooked.
“Yeah, I’m beat.” Eddie yawned to emphasize how exhausted he was. “Did your manager tell them you love spicy foods or are you just gonna let them assume you’re a wimp?”
“Nah. It’ll be fun.”
—-------------------
When he arrives on the set of Hot Ones, Sean greets him with a smile and a handshake.
Eddie wasn’t able to come with him, but Robin had promised to record the whole thing just for them.
She watched from the side next to his manager, Nancy, and his bodyguard, Hopper.
They settled at the table, got mic’d up, makeup touched up, and Sean reminded him that if he absolutely had to tap out, they could stop recording and edit everything accordingly to make it look like he made it through the challenge.
Steve wasn’t worried.
The first three wings didn’t even have a kick. It was just a casual conversation between friends.
He talked about his work with a theater group for kids in New York City, as well as his work on an indie film that was coming out in the fall.
The fourth and fifth wings had a pinch of spice to them, but nothing to make even bat an eye.
Sean continued asking questions, Steve continued answering them.
On the seventh wing, Steve was barely distracted from the question: “What project of yours are you most looking forward to doing next?”
“I think I’ll be most excited to take some time off with my husband, working on starting the family we’ve wanted for a while. He’s been on tour for most of the last year, and we agreed it was a good time to figure out what we wanna do,” Steve said as he took another bite.
He could feel the burn of this one at least, felt the sting on his lips and tongue.
But it was very manageable, and the jalapeno flavor was almost refreshing. It tasted fresh.
“Okay, I have to ask: did you practice these beforehand?”
Steve snorted.
“No. I’m just not very sensitive to spicy foods. I usually keep a lot of hot sauces in my house. Poor Eddie’s learned how to tolerate spice because of it,” Steve said as they brought out the eighth wing.
“I’ve never had anyone so calm at this point. I’m starting to think even the hottest one won’t really bother you!”
“I guess we’ll see!”
The ninth wing was hot. He wouldn’t try to deny it.
“It does have a lovely watermelon flavor to it, very fruity and tangy on top of the spice. I like it,” Steve smiled.
He knew his face was getting a bit red from this one, and he reached for the water, but only had to take a couple of small sips before he was ready to keep going.
“Alright, for this one, we’ll ask a question for you to answer before and then we’ll have one for right after. You ready?”
“Bring it on!”
And it definitely did.
It was hot, and he could feel tears in his eyes, and sweat breaking out across his forehead.
“Finally, we have a reaction!” Sean exclaimed.
“This one’s definitely a lot more than the others,” Steve added, reaching for the milk.
He could tell Robin and Nancy were laughing, probably very much enjoying any amount of pain he managed to have when he went into this so sure that none of them would get to him.
“Final question: Would you ever consider retiring to follow Eddie on tour with your future family?”
Steve nodded once, taking another sip of the milk.
God, this one was hot.
“Uh, yep. I mean, retiring is a strong word. I would definitely take a long break. I’ve always wanted a family,” he stopped to take another sip and a bite of the celery. “I’ve wanted to be a dad for as long as I can remember. And I know Eddie wants that, but he also doesn’t wanna stop making music, and the rest of his band isn’t ready to take a break like that. I know it would be easy for me, so my plan would be to take at least a few years off.”
“Doing alright over there?”
Steve laughed, fanning his face.
“I’m okay. That just went from a kick to a beatdown pretty quick.”
“Well, you’re a pro at making it look easy. You deserve an Oscar for this performance!”
It was a ridiculous sentiment, but funny, and Steve was up for an Oscar this year.
He finished the glass of milk and shook Sean’s hand, thanking him for having him.
“Eddie is already in tears watching Sean watch you in disbelief,” Robin started as soon as he joined them again.
“What was all that at the end?” Nancy asked, arms crossed, face furious.
He usually had free reign in interviews, but he knew Nancy would tell him not to mention anything even slightly related to retirement.
His career had really only just taken off a couple years earlier, and talking about a break or retiring now would immediately cut his chances of good roles in half.
“Just the truth, Nance. You know Eddie and I wanna start a family,” he said as they started walking through the backstage area to leave.
“I just didn’t know that meant taking a break. I thought you’d just take turns with stuff or hire a nanny.”
Steve knew that worked for a lot of couples, but they both were too family-focused for that. They didn’t want a nanny raising their kids.
“Why are you freaking out?”
“I’m not! I just would’ve liked a heads up.”
Robin stared between them, eyes bouncing back and forth like it was a tennis match.
“I don’t have to tell you every single detail of my life. You know all that’s relevant right now.”
Nancy sighed, but nodded, turning away and typing furiously on her phone.
His phone rang seconds later.
“Sweetheart, let me just say: it is so sexy how you handle those hot sauces,” Eddie’s teasing voice was enough to get him back into a happy mood.
“Your standards for sexy are so low,” Steve said as he walked to the corner to get as much privacy as possible.
“No, it’s just that everything you do is sexy.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“But I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours.”
“Steve!” Sean’s voice came from behind him, large smile lighting up his face. “Sorry to bother you, but would Eddie and the guys like to come on the show as our bonus episode this season?”
Eddie was screaming yes through the phone, much to their amusement.
“So…yes?” Sean asked.
“Yes!” Eddie yelled.
Sean walked away to update the producer while Steve kept talking to Eddie.
“See? Now you’ll get your show, too.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#request#ficlet#stranger things#rock star eddie munson#actor steve harrington#modern au
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This could be Steddie but y’all are cowards
#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson#headcannons#steddie#fanfic#ao3#celerity au#musician eddie munson#reporter! Steve Harrington#actor Steve Harrington#reporter eddie Munson
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This entire series is hilarious, just a collection of interviews with Steve and Eddie playing with puppies and eating hot wings. The author did such a lovely job with these and they deserve all the comments and kudos.
10/10
#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar eddie munson#actor!steve harrington#actor steve harrington
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Hear me out..
So idk how much crossover there is between st/steddie and 1D/harries BUT when 1D(rip) went on hiatus(💀) Harry got into acting and had to cut his hair. He did a whole magazine with 3 separate shoots and it was amazing.
1: lhh(long hair Harry). Very glam rock vibes. (You gotta see the ones with the collar and the suit 🥵)
2: the rough chop. Very Beatles 60’s vibes.
3: Final Cut and styled. Very baby boy in a meadow vibes. (Really Joseph Quinn himself vibes ya know)
Now if you’re still following along at home picture a celeb steddie au. Huge metal band CC goes on a break former drama kid Eddie takes a swing at acting. He does the magazine. Up and coming actor Steve is like thirsting hard over these when he gets the call that he got cast in the same movie as Eddie. His best friend turned not very good assistant Robin hypes him up. Something something they meet on set and fall in love. The end.
#come on#if I didn’t already have my steddie bang fic planned I would write this for that#but I need to get down to business with that lmao#steddie#steddie au#rockstar eddie munson#famous eddie munson#actor Steve Harrington#eddie munson#Steve Harrington#steve x eddie#steddie fic ideas
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Eddie stands at the bar, sipping at the whisky in his glass, eyes flickering over the crush of bodies and dark mahogany. He's at a premier party at TIFF, doesn't remember what movie it's for, is supposed to "mingle" according to his agent. And sure, he's charismatic, got a big personality and a loud mouth, but he's not good at networking; resents having to perform when he's not playing a role. Resents it more that he's an Oscar nominated actor, that his work doesn't stand for itself.
And then there's the Steve Harrington of it all. Heartthrob. America's Sweetheart. The boy next door. He's across the room, deep in conversation, but his eyes--they keep finding Eddie, scanning him with unmistakable heat.
They starred in a movie called Dying on the Pass. Played life-long best friends who became elite chefs and opened a restaurant together. The movie follows the dissolution of their friendship as the stresses of pursuing a Michelin Star drive them apart. It was a critical and commercial hit, cue awards noms, and offers pouring in, and--
Steve Harrington is his bed.
They promised, when filming wrapped. They swore it was the last time. They promised--
They basically shared a hotel room during awards season, woke up tangled together every morning.
They spent a torrid weekend in Atlanta after Steve wrapped on a Netflix action movie.
Six months after, they had a quick, furious fuck in the bathroom at a club in London.
Dangerous, stupid, but no one caught them. And here Steve is in Toronto, surrounded by press, staring at Eddie like he wants to eat him.
Eddie tries to ignore it. But every time their eyes meet, warmth pools low in his abdomen, and he wants.
They meet up eventually, pose for a couple of pictures, Eddie trying to ignore the way his skin tingles everywhere that Steve touches. Steve slings an arm around his waist, lets it linger.
After, Eddie goes out for a smoke, the patio blissfully deserted. He's half way through his cigarette when Steve steps out the sliding door, wrapping his hands in Eddie's hair, pulling him into a kiss. The cigarette drops as he grips onto the other man, a whimper slipping from his lips.
He should stop this, they're outside, anyone could see, and Steve isn't out--isn't--he's straight to the entire world, the straightest man alive. And Eddie, he's open about his preferences, identifies as queer, though lately he's been more interested in men--in one man, specifically-- and Steve isn't out, isn't ready to be and--
"Come back to my room?" Steve asks. Their mouths are still pressed together.
"Uh-huh," Eddie answers.
Steve whispers his room number before disappearing back inside. They're in the same hotel, on the same floor, like the universe wants them to keep hooking up. But Steve is being reckless.
Eddie goes to Steve that night with every intention of telling him they need to stop, to slow down, that they're going to get caught and he knows Steve isn't ready, but he doesn't. He doesn't that night and he doesn't two months later when they bump into each other in Venice, or four months after that in New York, or--or --or
It's dangerous, impulsive, too many close calls for them to keep it up and then--and then he's at a house party in the hills, an industry thing, the host is a wannabe big shot producer trying to get in good with the Hollywood elite. Steve is out of town. In Europe filming or maybe Australia for some event or--
Striding through the party, eyes locked on Eddie, and they're in a hallway, in a hallway where anyone could see them, but Steve is kissing him. They're kissing and it's rough and possessive and it stings.
Steve pushes him through double-doors, to the room at their backs, and Eddie wants to protest, to remind him they don't know if it's empty. But Steve is tugging the tie out of Eddie's hair, digging this hands into the now loose curls, and Eddie whines, lets himself be lead.
He's pushed against a table, and in the weak light from the windows, he realizes they're in the dining room. Steve grinds against him, muttering, "missed you so much, baby. God, it's been too long. Need you so bad."
Eddie moans, shifting to press more against Steve. "Missed you too, sweetheart, fuck."
They're kissing and Eddie's high on it, on Steve, can't get enough.
There's a loud burst of laughter outside the door, and reality smashes back into focus.
"Stop," he whispers to Steve.
Steve does in an instant, stepping back. Even in the darkness, Eddie sees the confusion and hurt mingling in the squint of his eyes, his light frown.
"Steve we--this is dangerous. There are people everywhere. Anyone could come in. There's a TMZ guy here, and we--need to be careful."
"Fuck," Steve breathes. "Eddie I--fuck." He presses his hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "I can't get enough of you, man. Whenever I see you I just--I don't think--I see you and I want you so bad it hurts. Once every few months isn't enough. Hookups aren't enough. And I know that's not what we agreed to, and--"
"Steve," Eddie gently cuts him off. "I'm crazy about you. It hasn't been hookups for me for--" ever, it had never been, but he shakes his head instead of saying that. "But we've been reckless, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurt."
"It's not fair to you, though, right? Hiding and sneaking around with me."
"You need time, Steve. You deserve to come out on your terms, when you're ready. And if that means we're not public for a while, then we're not."
"What if I'm never ready?" He whispers. It breaks Eddie's heart, but it's a fair question for a man who got famous as an angelic child star in a series of fantasy-adventure movies before playing a quarterback with a heart-of-gold on the CW for seven seasons. He's always kept up a squeaky clean image, never in trouble, name rarely in the tabloids.
"Then we'll deal with it together."
"Okay," Steve whispers. A smile spreads slow across his face. "I'd like that."
--
Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are seen around town together often. Getting lunch, at parties, shopping. In an interview Steve says that Eddie's his best friend, they do everything together. There's speculation online, of course, but it's pretty quiet. So, they go to premiers and award shows and events together.
A year goes by and it's easy, light, fun. They're in love.
Eddie's messing around on his guitar, not with any intent just for the joy of it. He's on the loveseat in the office of their apartment--their apartment. Steve is in the kitchen, he thinks, or puttering in the garden.
They haven't talked about Steve coming out; haven't needed to.
"Hey," Steve says from the doorway. Eddie jumps.
"Hey yourself."
"It's Bi Visibility day."
"Is it now?" He's not sure where this is going
"I want to come out."
He puts the guitar down. "You sure?"
Steve nods. He doesn't seem nervous, just calm and steady.
"How do you want to do it?"
He crosses the room, climbing onto Eddie's lap, making Eddie laugh. "Works for me." Eddie gives Steve's ass a playful squeeze.
They start kissing then, Steve snapping pics on his phone randomly as they make out.
Steve won't let Eddie peak as he crafts his Insta post, not until it's done and live for his 15 million followers.
The picture he picked, it's a soft kiss, mouths open but lips only just brushing, noses pressed together in a sweet little bump. But the thing about, the thing that makes Eddie's stomach swoop, is the way they're both smiling, the way it's obvious just how in love they are.
Steve's captioned it with the words "Witness Me" and the bi flag.
He pulls his boy into another kiss, says, "Hey,"
"Hmm?" Steve doesn't pull away.
"Wanna go be visibly bisexual with me in the bedroom?"
Steve hops off his lap, strides across the room, turning to flash Eddie a devious smile. "Thought you'd never ask."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#actors steve harrington and eddie munson#costars#hooking up#fluff#costars to lovers#idiots in love#feelings confession#coming out#bisexual steve harrington#it's not bi visibility day but i liked eddie using it as a come on#famous steve harrington#famous eddie munson#i don't totally know what this is
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Steve’s tired. He’s wearing a tux and his head is starting to hurt and this interviewer is nice but he’s just one in what it feels like an infinite line of them.
That’s what he gets for being nominated for the Emmy’s this year, it was what Robin said to him.
She’s right, of course.
He blinks and focus back on the interviewer. He’s asking him to explain that one scene on the show when he performed a long action sequence and Steve does it.
It wasn’t that hard, with his athletic background. He actually had fun.
The interviewer laughs. Steve isn’t funny but he’s glad he’s entertaining someone. Knows some actors can be real assholes out here on the red carpet.
He sees Robin on his peripheral waving at him to let him know it’s time to wrap this up and move on.
There’s still a few interviews to get through before the actual ceremony. And then a bunch more if he somehow wins.
Then he feels a presence on his back and Eddie Munson’s face pops in, smiling at him. One of his hands wrap around Steve’s waist.
“Isn’t he delightful?” Eddie says with that tone that makes Steve’s inside all mushy. The interviewer nods, fascinated by this interaction.
“You’re delightful,” Steve says, trying to look at him but it’s real hard when Eddie’s head is propped on his shoulder.
“Gonna save you a seat inside, sweetheart.”
Eddie winks at him and Steve cackle, throwing his head back a little.
He feels Eddie’s hand squeezing at his waist and it makes him lightheaded.
“Any plans on working together again? You two were brilliant!”
Steve has to give it to him. He’s fast with the questions. A good interviewer.
“I’m game if you are,” Eddie says.
Steve knows that. They talked about it. The show blew up because of their insane chemistry on screen.
Their agents, Robin and Chrissy, are already looking into other projects
“I’d follow you to hell,” Steve says. It’s a joke and Eddie laughs, pretending to be flattered.
“See you inside?” Eddie asks and Steve nods, suddenly feeling a burst of energy. Eddie has that ability. It was helpful during long days of shooting. “A kiss for good luck?”
Steve laughs but nods, thinking Eddie is going to kiss his cheek. But no, he goes straight for his mouth.
It’s just a peck, but Steve feels his cheeks burning and before he can react Eddie is moving, lost in the sea of people on the red carpet.
Steve turns his face to the interviewer and from the red dot on the camera he knows this is live. He sighs, has to stand his ground despite wanting to run away.
“Well. That was sweet. So are you two dating?”
Steve sighs, shakes his head.
“No. He’s just a brat.”
#Ali's Stuff#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie drabble#drabble#fic#steve harrington#actor AU#eddie munson
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I am massively busy with work and finalizing my Big Bang, but this idea just won't leave...
Steve and Eddie are both actors. They're in their mid thirties, well established, but they never starred together in anything. Steve tends to be cast in the same type, the dumb but pretty love interest, Eddie has lots of indie and disturbing movies under his belt. But this time, they both landed something big.
They get cast in the new Batman movie.
Steve is, of course, Batman. He insists on doing his own stunts. He refuses to get dehydrated for his shirtless scenes because he knows how damaging it is to both young men and women alike, he's not going to contribute to shitty expectations. The director (Dustin, duh!) sees something in him other directors never have - a potential for depth, for internal turmoil. He gives Steve the chance to prove himself as an actor and Steve pounces on it.
He's still very hot.
Eddie is cast as the Joker. He is a fan of the comics and scoffs at how absurd and deranged the character is becoming. He gets hired because he immediately says he doesn't think the character needs to rely on cheap tricks and shock value to be terrifying. Cutting off his face? Not cool. He suggests to play the Joker according to one of the older comics he has - one where the Joker is actually absolutely sane, but hides it to never be held accountable for his actions. The only person who ever saw through his ruse was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Joker took care of that issue very quickly.
The chemistry between Steve and Eddie on screen is insane. They go toe to toe, it's impossible to look away when they interact. Eddie utilizes his bright smile to the maximum, tweaking it just right within moments so it becomes unsettling. The first time he laughs, Steve gets goosebumps.
Steve encompasses Bruce's loneliness so well Eddie's heart breaks for him. Dustin finds him in the trailer, giving himself gentle slaps over the face and muttering "you're evil, damn it, you don't want to comfort the Bat!!".
Batgirl (Robin) and Harley Quinn (Chrissy) find their slow descent into love hilarious. They all become good friends on the set.
Hopper, an acting veteran who plays Commissioner Gordon, grasps Steve's shoulder after an intense fight scene and mutters: "Good job, Steve, but maybe don't stare at his lips so much?"
Robin doesn't give him the same courtesy and once Dustin yells "Cut!", she screeches: "NOW KISS!"
The movie is a hit. People love the cast and the story, some of the OG fans complain as they always do, but the ratings are great, there are many interviews, panels, all of that.
And of course, there's gossip about Steve and Eddie being a thing, which enrages the macho Batman fanbase. Their Batman isn't gay!
But the rumors quickly disappear after an award ceremony where Eddie is nominated for the best supporting actor. He wins, of course. And as he gets up to accept the small statue and deliver a speech with enough "fuck"s to give the censor a headache, he drags Steve up and kisses him in front of the whole world.
A week later, Steve and Eddie are together in front of a camera again, answering questions in an interview.
The host asks: "What do you say to those fans that are disappointed, who say that their Batman isn't gay?"
Steve just snorts, pulls Eddie closer and answers: "They're right. Their Batman isn't gay. But he's definitely bi."
Also the comic story I'm mentioning exits and is short but fantastic. 10/10 recommend.
Oh also. The first spark happens when Steve sees Eddie's hair and blurts out: "Please tell me they're not making you cut it shorter. It's too gorgeous for that."
Also because people were asking about the comics - it's Batman Black and White - Case Study and it can be found on Tumblr HERE
#steddie#steddie drabble#steddie au#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham#actor au
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nsfw, actor eddie, hair and makeup artist steve, sub top
The downside of Eddie having a bunch of tattoos is that he has to sit in the makeup trailer longer than anyone else getting them covered, along with his character’s makeup.
The plus side is he gets more time with Steve.
They have this game. It started on Eddie’s first day. He was all wired up with nerves because it’s his first time in a lead role on a big production like this.
Every nightmare scenario of how he could screw up was running through his mind. He couldn’t sit still enough for Steve to give him the wavy hair and facial scars that his character has.
Eddie kept apologizing and Steve was great about it. He asked Eddie about the heart on his arm with “Wayne” across the ribbon and distracted Eddie from over-practicing his lines, busy telling Steve all about his uncle who raised him and where they’re from.
Eddie killed it on set that day, and pretty much every day since then. He loves acting, he loves fully immersing himself in the story he’s telling. This role is the biggest of his career so far, but it’s not even about that, he loves the character he’s playing, he meshes well with the director and has chemistry with his co-stars.
But Steve is his favorite part of this whole deal.
Eddie ran out of tattoos for their little game of telling Steve the story behind a different one every day. They never ran out of things to talk about though.
But Steve takes his job seriously and he’s good at it. He explained once why he likes doing this. It’s an art, getting the right look for the right character, or the right person, connecting with and taking care of whoever’s in his chair.
He explained it all while he was running his fingers through Eddie’s hair in those perfectly practiced strokes. Steve’s very good at his job, that’s why it feels so nice when he touches Eddie, even if it’s just work, because Steve cares about this. That’s why it’s easy for Eddie to be lulled into bliss when Steve’s fingers are so gentle on his scalp.
And, okay Eddie’s not made of stone, and he has eyes so he has a thing for Steve. A crush, but there’s a line there. This is work. They’re co-workers, despite how many pretty smiles and lingering looks are exchanged. Eddie won’t cross that line.
Until he does.
It’s an accident. He never would have done it on purpose.
Steve’s fingers are just so talented. Eddie’s eyes are closed, he was having another fit of nerves earlier so Steve took extra time with his hair. It put Eddie in a space so relaxed that he feels like he’s floating when Steve’s hand twists in his hair with the perfect amount of tension. It feels so intentional. The moan just slips out.
Eddie apologizes like crazy afterward, he feels terrible. Steve is a picture of professionalism, he’s charming and fun but he runs the makeup trailer like it's the navy and he takes his shit seriously and Eddie crossed a line.
But Steve just shushes him, guides him to sit back in the chair and says it’s alright.
Eddie blinks in disbelief but Steve just looks at him.
It’s a look.
A look that Eddie can’t stop thinking about for the rest of production.
It’s a look he sees again on his last day on set.
Eddie already shook everyone’s hands and said his goodbyes. He's just stopping by his trailer one last time to make sure the assistants got all his stuff cleared out.
When he opens the door, his stomach flips, finding Steve waiting inside for him.
“You wrapped filming today,” Steve says in place of a greeting. But his smile and the way his arm is languidly stretched over the back of the couch is inviting.
Something tells Eddie to lock the door before he goes over to sit next to Steve.
His gaze is even more intense up close. Eddie feels Steve’s eyes on him everywhere, like he’s just eating Eddie up.
“Yeah, I did,” Eddie says, a tad nervous.
He doesn't want to make a move he can’t take back in case he’s wrong about why Steve’s in his trailer looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to be one of those douchebag movie stars that assumes everyone wants him and he has a free pass to hit on the crew. He’s sure Steve’s had enough of that bullshit.
“We don’t work together anymore,” Steve simply states.
“I know, it sucks,” Eddie laughs a bit sad because he really is, “Sorry if it’s weird to say, but I’m gonna miss you.”
Steve’s eyes shift between Eddie’s and then down to his lips, making his heart stutter in his chest.
“No it’s a good thing,” Steve says and Eddie’s brows knit in confusion. “It means I can do this finally.”
Eddie thinks he’s watching his daydreams play out the way Steve starts leaning in.
It’s only real when Steve’s lips press softly to his.
Just once, so light, long enough for Eddie to catch on that it’s happening, then Steve pulls back before Eddie can reciprocate.
Steve chuckles faintly at the dramatic frown Eddie’s pulling.
Then Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking Eddie’s face as he tells him, “We can stop there and keep it professional and say our goodbyes. Or I can climb on your lap and give you something to remember me by.”
Eddie gulps. Steve’s offer and his silky voice and his perfect touch that Eddie’s already so addicted to is such a heady mix, making it hard to form words. “Yes, climb me— I mean, option B.”
“Yeah, honey, you want that?” God, Eddie always blushed hot when Steve called him that casually in the makeup trailer, now he’s melting hearing Steve say it like this. “Well, go on and take your pants off for me.”
It happens in a syrupy warm blur. Eddie sheds his jeans and underwear like he’s told and he’s rewarded with a gorgeously naked Steve Harrington in his lap. He’s allowed to touch, only after Steve has threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair more reverently than any time before, like something precious in his hands, and kisses Eddie deep and hard.
Then Eddie gets to nuzzle the chest hair that’s been driving him crazy peeking out of Steve’s shirt every time he leaned over. Eddie gets to touch Steve’s soft strong thighs, feeling the smatter of hair leading up to his ass that’s been driving Eddie even more insane trying not to stare at. Then he slips his fingers in and moans into Steve’s mouth when he feels the hard bulb of a plug nestled inside Steve.
Steve pulls back from the kiss, smiling and smearing his thumb over the spit on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah, I’m so ready for you, Eddie, baby, you have no idea.”
Eddie’s practically drooling watching Steve take out the plug and get a bottle of lube from between the cushions and a condom, oiling up his hand. When his fist wraps around Eddie’s cock, Eddie helplessly bucks into it, but Steve’s solid thighs pin him down. That makes his mind lust-foggy and his eyes flutter up at Steve, who bites his lip watching Eddie as he lines up to his hole.
“Mm... you know how bad I wanted you?” Steve sounds relieved as he sinks down on Eddie’s cock. “You know how bad I wanted to climb on your lap when you were sitting in my chair. You know how starry-eyed you get when you’re drifting? Just from me touching your hair, so fucking cute.”
Eddie’s just a mess of moans, Steve is so hot and tight around him. It’s too much with all the sweet praise to really comprehend that Steve knew all those times he was getting spacy.
“It’s so easy to put you down.” Steve’s breath comes harder, not letting Eddie move as he starts to roll his hips. “Such an actor, high strung all the time but that’s okay. It’s your passion. That’s sexy. Been dying to hold you down and ride you until you can’t think about anything but me, though.”
Eddie gasps out a groan when Steve tugs sharply on his hair, being right about everything that Eddie’s into so far. It’s no secret that Eddie’s intense, just a different kind of intensity in the bedroom than with his craft.
Steve seems to get it, seems to know that Eddie needs everything hard and relentless with the way he’s bouncing on Eddie’s dick. He can feel the strength in Steve’s hips, dying to feel them fucking into him too, mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock jumping with all the movement.
“You’d let me tie you down and use you, hm?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie by the hair into a biting kiss that just barely grazes the surface of what Eddie would let Steve do to him. “I know. I’d fuck you up so good if we had time, baby.”
“Steve, holy shit,” Eddie practically sobs, fingers digging into Steve’s ass.
“You close, honey?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
Steve suddenly cups his face, just a tad rough and Eddie thought— hoped for one hot moment— that Steve was going to slap him. Just the thought is enough to make him do what he's supposed to, “Can I?”
“Mh-hm just keep looking at me,” Steve strokes Eddie’s face as he circles his hips and takes Eddie deep. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come inside me.”
Eddie does as he’s told, his gaze falling half-shut as he lets go, spilling into the condom like he’s pumping Steve full.
It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, followed by the second hottest thing when Steve kisses his slack mouth as his warm heavy spurts of come land on Eddie’s belly.
While Eddie’s coming down, he lets Steve shift him onto the couch. He gets some tissues and then pulls Eddie to lie on his chest because of course he would, he’s Steve.
“Was that enough to remember me by when you get all big and famous?” Steve asks after a while, trailing his knuckles down Eddie’s bare arm.
Eddie looks up, seeing the first glimpse of hesitance in all of Steve’s practiced smoothness.
So Eddie leans in and assures him between pecks on his lips that slowly turn to smiles pressing together. “Nope, think we gotta do it again. And again. And again.”
#here's some sub top eddie from yours truly#also i've talked about actor eddie before but we need to talk about him more plssplss#steddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steddie smut#subeddieweek#sub eddie week#famous eddie munson#hairdresser steve harrington
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Dustin posts a Tiktok of the party as they wait for everybody to show up for a Hellfire campaign but focuses in on a conversation happening in the kitchen. You can hear Steve say, “-believe it because Erica said it. She’s never wrong.”
Robin, picking the m&ms out of trail mix: I don’t know, she did want to drink that green sludge that dissolved concrete
Steve: That was before we knew it could do that and later that same day she called Murray a bald bastard. He was bald and he was a bastard. It cancels itself out.
Eddie: The first time I met her, she called me a long haired freak.
Steve: That’s the description I’d give the police if you ever went missing
Lucas: She calls me the family disappointment
Steve:
Steve, with that smile where he’s going to say something mean and is sorry about it: There’s only two of you, Lucas.
#Steve is going to do two things#(1) Have complete faith in the women in his life#(2) insult his husband#gonna subtly imply that Murray is dead because I don’t like his actor#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#lucas sinclair
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STEVE HARRINGTON Stranger Things, 2.03 - The Pollywog
#steve harrington#steveharringtondaily#tvedit#dailystobin#joekeeryedit#strangerthingsedit#userspree#userallisyn#usernaysa#userkam#userashe#userclara#*#the loose strands of hair are paid actors
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Request: actor Steve??? Singer Eddie at the grammy's??? Eddie's band winning a Grammy & Eddie proposing to Steve accidentally in his speech???? & Steve crying and nodding yes but he is in tears & can't stand up??? Ok but then at the Oscars Steve actually proposes on stage because he had broken his leg & Eddie helped him on stage. But his proposal is the same as Eddie's because he also asks during his speech & Eddie cries and they get engaged again ❤️❤️❤️❤️
BABYYYYYY!!! NOT ONE, BUT TWO MARRIAGE PROPOSALS?! YES! PLEASE! I love the idea of Steve being prepared to propose to Eddie, has a whole plan, and then Eddie gets so emotional when he wins a Grammy that he does it before Steve gets a chance. Steve CANNOT be outdone, so obviously he does it too. We love love! - Mickala ❤️
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Somehow, against every odd, Eddie Munson made it.
Corroded Coffin, through hard work and a pinch of luck, were nominated for a Grammy.
They’d spent years climbing their way to the top (hard work) and finally got signed to a huge record deal when an agent saw them opening for a metal band at a festival (pinch of luck).
Their first album broke records in ways that hadn’t been seen since Metallica stepped onto the scene.
Their first tour sold out in minutes.
Their second album had a lot of hype to live up to, and according to the Grammy nomination, it far surpassed the expectations.
He hated that Steve couldn’t walk the carpet with him, but he was happy he was waiting inside with all the significant others of the band.
Probably already drinking wine and champagne. Maybe even shots.
Dammit, Eddie hated walking the carpet.
Steve was a fun drunk, but he was even more fun when he’d only had a couple. His filter shut off, but he wasn’t quite at the point of bitchy. He was silly.
Steve was rarely silly.
Fun, funny, happy.
But never really silly.
Not like Eddie was.
But after a couple drinks? Downright clownish.
Eddie tried to rush through the remaining interviews, and the guys could tell, throwing him shocked looks. Eddie loved the spotlight, so it probably was a little shocking.
When they got inside, they were stopped by just about everyone who lived on planet Earth.
Eddie was ready to grab Steve and run.
Fuck the Grammy.
But he couldn’t do that. This was a possibly once in a lifetime thing. Wayne was watching at home even though he “doesn’t have time to watch those stupid awards.”
If they did win, Eddie had to give a speech, they had to go to afterparties, he had to fuck Steve against the window in their hotel room.
He shook his head, trying to clear it of any of those thoughts. Now wasn’t the time.
He walked into the main room, suddenly overwhelmed by the crowd and the vast expanse of tables and seating and stage area in front of him.
He caught a glimpse of Steve at a table not too far away, laughing at something Jeff’s wife, Amy, was saying. She’d almost skipped tonight, her pregnancy far enough along that getting all dressed up didn’t sound remotely appealing. But then she’d heard Steve was going, and she’d called her sister to alter her dress immediately.
Gareth’s fiancé, Sam, was sitting away from everyone, still not sure of her place in the group. They’d had a bit of a whirlwind romance, and Eddie would be more worried if Sam wasn’t completely head over heels in love with Gareth in high school first. But she’d only just met everyone a month ago, and this was the first public event she attended with everyone. She was visibly nervous.
Grant’s wife, Savannah, was clearly trying to make conversation with everyone.
And Eddie knew that Steve and Amy weren’t purposefully making it harder, but they certainly weren’t making things easy for her.
They were laughing so much, he couldn’t even be sure they were laughing at something.
He sidled up to Steve’s side, plopping down in the empty chair to his right.
“Eddie! Amy’s here!” Steve smacked his arm excitedly.
He was at least three wines in.
“I see that, sweetheart. Hi, Amy.”
“Hey, Eddie. He’s drinking for two,” Amy smiled fondly as Steve took another sip of wine.
“And she’s eating for two!” Steve said as he reached out to touch her belly. “I can’t believe I don’t get to have your babies, Eds.”
Eddie snorted. Amy let out a loud laugh.
“I’m sure we can give it our best shot later tonight,” Eddie whispered in his ear, smirking to himself when he saw Steve shiver.
They all continued chatting, occasionally getting interrupted by guests: producers, musicians, agents, even some kids who were big fans.
When the show started, Steve was drifting. He’d had maybe one too many, and he’d reached the sleepy part of wine drunk a lot sooner than he should’ve. Maybe because he barely slept last night. Maybe because Eddie fucked him in the shower and the couch and the bed, and then woke him up early to fuck him on the counter before he had to leave for an interview with Good Morning America. He was tired.
Eddie was tired too, but he was used to a lot of late nights and early mornings over the last couple of years.
Plus, he was running on so much adrenaline at the thought of winning a Grammy, he was pretty sure he could stay awake for another 12 hours.
Steve’s head rested against Eddie’s shoulder, his hand entangled in Eddie’s.
For seven years, Steve’s been his biggest fan, his person, his everything.
And for three years before that, he was his best friend.
He was there at grungy bars, outdoor festivals in rain or shine, that one fundraising event at the mall that was a total disaster. He was front row at their first opening gig for a Midwest metal band, and front row at their opening gig for Ghost. He was backstage for their first headlining tour, in the studio when they recorded their first and second albums, and on the tour bus when he could miss work.
It only made sense that he was here for this.
He wanted him here for everything.
This wasn’t the first time he’d thought that, probably not even the hundredth. He’d wanted to marry Steve for years.
But Steve was focused on building his own career, and Eddie insisted that he do what he wanted to do no matter what Eddie did with his career.
It meant a lot of time apart, a lot of FaceTiming at weird hours of the day or night because it’s the only time their schedules would sync up, a lot of missing each other.
But they believed in their relationship the same way they believed in each other, and they kept making it work.
He had a ring. He bought it years ago. Wayne had it so Steve wouldn’t find it, but they’d already planned on him taking it with him on his next stop in Hawkins.
He let himself relax a bit. Had a glass of wine, then champagne, and a beer. Their category was almost the last of the night, so they were able to relax for a while.
Steve knew a lot of people in the industry because of his acting career, but he’d made it very clear tonight was about Eddie to anyone who tried to talk to him.
The night was long, longer than Eddie could really handle.
His nerves were through the roof and Steve had fallen asleep on his shoulder.
When their category was announced, Eddie nudged him awake gently.
“Hey, sweetheart. I’m either about to be a Grammy winner or get a lot of great sympathy sex from you,” Eddie whispered in his ear as a camera guy settled in front of their table to get their reactions.
Steve was suddenly wide awake, the realization that this could be one of the biggest moments of their lives making him grip Eddie’s hand like a lifeline.
“And the winner for Best Metal Album is…” the announcer paused for dramatic effect. “Corroded Coffin with Reanimate!”
The whole room was cheering, but their table was going wild.
Steve jumped up the moment they said Corroded Coffin, jumping up and down and pulling Eddie up on his feet.
The next minute was a blur as they made their way to the stage, his boys surrounding him and clapping each other on the back excitedly.
They’d all worked hard for this, dealt with endless bullying in high school because their music was different, fought through the struggle of trying to appease bar owners and small town festival organizers with “softer” music so they could get in front of the right people. They spent thousands of dollars they realistically didn’t have to travel to places where metal was more welcome.
They had to take out personal loans to get studio time to record a demo and send it in to every record company they could think of.
Steve gave them 25% of his inheritance to buy their first tour bus because “it’s a good investment, and it’ll save money on hotels and eating out.”
When they got to the stage, Eddie realized that he’d have to speak.
Shit.
He’d kind of prepared a speech, but he also didn’t want to get his hopes up too much so he’d just let it go.
“Uh, wow. Okay. Thank you guys so much!” He started. He could just barely see the faces of everyone at their table, but Steve’s beaming smile was enough. “I didn’t prepare much other than that because I just didn’t think we would win. I know we’re talented and we work hard, but this is the biggest award you can win in the music industry and we still have a long way to go to really feel like we can even be in the same room as most of these talented musicians.”
He was killing it!
“I need to thank these guys up here with me, all the guys who work with us in the studio, everyone who makes tour possible, my Uncle Wayne, who probably is crying but won’t admit it when I talk to him later.” Everyone laughed. “But I have to thank Steve more than anything. I think the guys would agree he’s been the guy there for us through everything. He’s not just my boyfriend, he’s our first and biggest fan. Sorry to all the wives and future wife at our table.” More laughter. “I don’t know where we’d be without him, but I really don’t think I’d be who I am if not for the way he loves me, the way he’s always loved me. Even when it’s hard, even when we go months without being able to see each other, we find ways to make us work. We keep doing the damn thing even when the damn thing is hard. I didn’t plan to do this tonight, and Wayne is gonna kill me, but Stevie, sweetheart, I can’t go another day without knowing. Will you marry me?”
The room erupted into cheers, the guys on stage jumping up and down. He saw the camera guy zooming in on Steve’s reaction as they broadcast it on a screen by the stage.
But Eddie didn’t need the screen. He could see the tears streaming down Steve’s face as he cried, his smile bigger than life as he nodded.
“He said yes!” Jeff yelled.
The crowd cheered louder as Eddie handed the Grammy award to Gareth and ran down the stairs back to his table.
Steve jumped into his arms, wrapping his legs around his waist.
Eddie’s hands immediately went to his thighs to support him, and Steve’s hands cupped his face.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” Steve sobbed out.
“I can’t believe I haven’t done it earlier,” Eddie responded.
They kissed in front of the hundreds of people here and the possibly millions watching at home.
It was one of the best kisses they’d ever shared. The room around them went quiet, at least to them, as their lips moved against each other passionately, but with a gentleness they rarely had with each other anymore.
They pulled apart after a few more seconds, foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath.
Eddie gently let Steve down, using his thumbs to wipe away some of his tears and giving him a beaming smile.
“Wayne’s got the ring. I have a feeling he’ll be making us come for a visit very soon so I’ll put it on you then,” Eddie whispered.
The rest of the band had trickled back to the table to collect him for post-win interviews backstage, but he couldn’t go without one more kiss.
Steve gave it willingly, always giving love in whatever way he could.
“Okay, I gotta go answer some questions. We’ll be quick,” he said with one more kiss to Steve’s forehead.
“Love you. So proud of you,” Steve said as he pulled away.
“Love you so much!”
—---------------------------------------
Steve’s engagement ring glistened in the spotlight hitting their table at the Oscars.
The Oscars.
Steve Harrington, almost Munson, was sitting at the Oscars because he was nominated for two awards: Best Actor in a Drama and Best Actor in a Comedy.
Eddie was sitting next to him, somehow more nervous here than he was at the Grammys.
His leg hadn’t stopped bouncing up and down since they sat down 20 minutes ago. The other people at the table were luckily good friends and didn’t think anything of his anxiety.
Eddie never got nervous before shows, or interviews, or photoshoots, or even his award shows. But when it came to Steve, he was a nervous wreck.
Before auditions, before appearances, before red carpets. He was on edge whether he was with him or not.
Tonight was no different.
They’d had incredibly busy schedules after the Grammys, only seeing each once over the last three months. But Eddie had told his manager nearly six months ago that he would not miss this for any reason, that Steve supported him at all of his big events, and he wasn’t going to ask permission to support his fiance, he just was.
Except it turned into more of Steve supporting him as the night wore on, the realization that Steve could very well win both categories keeping Eddie strung out.
It was actually a little cute.
The comedy category was first, and he had tough competition. Anytime you’re going against people like Jonah Hill and the people at Disney you have to be ready to lose.
And he did lose. Well, Eddie kept saying “it’s not a loss, it’s just not a win”, which was really the same thing.
But Steve wasn’t as upset as he expected to be. Comedy wasn’t really his forte, he’d only done a handful of comedy movies and shows over the last few years, and none of them were major roles.
It was the drama he cared about.
He’d put his heart and soul into this film. It was regarded as the breakthrough queer film of the year, up for enough awards tonight to be considered an Oscar Sweep.
He never would have gotten here if not for the man next to him, so he could handle his nerves easily.
“Drama is next,” Eddie breathed out, his hand squeezing Steve’s knee.
“I know, baby.”
“What if you win? Oh my god, what if you don’t? No, no. You’ll win. This is your best work. Seriously, don’t know why I would ever think you wouldn’t.”
Steve smirked as the announcer started saying all the nominees’ names.
The camera focused on him was probably capturing a lot of Eddie’s mumbling under his breath, but luckily they weren’t mic’d up so it would be easy to explain away.
“The winner for Best Actor in a Drama…Steve Harrington!”
“Oh my god! Oh my god! Steve I can’t feel my legs, I can’t feel them. Or my arms. I think I might black out, oh my god,” Eddie immediately turned to him with tears in his eyes.
“Baby, I need you to help me on stage. My leg’s broken, remember?”
And that was a pain in the ass. His last role required some stunts and Steve was an idiot and insisted on trying one for himself. It didn’t go well and he’s lucky it was just a broken leg.
Steve kissed Eddie’s lips softly, quickly, to get him to focus.
“Right! Okay,” Eddie stood up and held his arm out for Steve, who was using a single crutch to get around this evening instead of two. “Off we go!”
Steve giggled, and nodded at people clapping as they passed them on their way to the stage. Eddie was so busy looking ahead, trying to get him to the final destination safely, he missed the announcer making a joke about Steve earning the drama award by breaking his leg.
When they got on stage, Steve stood at the mic while Eddie stood at the side of the stage. He was crying, much like Steve had when he got his Grammy award.
“Sorry for taking my sweet time. As you can see, I thought I was able to do what stunt actors do and forgot that they’re actually very in shape and talented.” The room laughed. “Hey, no laughing, I didn’t win in comedy.” More laughter, louder this time. “I have to thank everyone who worked on this film; It’s truly one of those films that will continue to change lives. It was the most difficult job I have ever had, and I am so grateful for everyone who gave me the chance to prove that I could do it. I’d like to thank all my kiddos, who aren’t kiddos anymore, for all yelling at me in the group chat when I almost turned this down because I didn’t think I could do it. My agent, who goes through a lot of amazing opportunities but always manages to find the perfect one.” Steve looked over at Eddie and let himself finally tear up a little. “And Eddie. Can’t forget that guy. My support, literally.” He saw Eddie snort out a laugh between his tears. “Would not be standing here without him and not just because he had to walk me up here. Every time I thought about giving up, he made me go to one more audition or read one more script. Every time I’ve not gotten an offer I really wanted, he’s been there to remind me that there’s something better coming along. Like this one. I’d been turned down for a show I really wanted the same day I sent in the audition tapes for this role. I cried for hours on the phone with Eddie and he told me, I’ll never forget his exact words, ‘You’re meant for better and better will find you.’ And it did. But the best is you, baby. You’re the better that is at the beginning and end of all my days. I could never work again and I’d still be the happiest guy in the world because you’re mine and you want me just as much as I want you. Eight years ago, I was closeted, telling myself that the way I felt when my best friend hugged me was just because he was my best friend. Now, I’m winning an Oscar for playing a queer man in a deeply moving film about finding love for yourself even when love from others isn’t an option. I’m marrying you, that best friend who probably knew exactly what he was doing when he hugged me. And I know I’m wearing your engagement ring, and we’ve already set a date and picked the cake, but I feel like I should ask. Eddie, you’re the only one who gets me at my best, and you also get me at my worst and still love me anyway. Will you marry me?”
He watched as Eddie’s brain ran through a million options at once, finally settling on joining him at the microphone.
He pulled him against his chest, hand against the back of his head.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes, it’s a yes. Fuck, yes,” Eddie sobbed out.
The crowd was cheering, and the cameras were circling around the stage getting every angle of the moment that they could.
“Next time you’re on this stage accepting an award, you’ll be Steve Munson,” Eddie teased.
“It’s got a nice ring to it,” Steve said against his shoulder.
They pulled apart enough to kiss, much like they did at the Grammys: soft, passionate, but slow.
“Do you have a secret ring hiding at Wayne’s too?”
“No, no ring. Just wanted to show the world I love you as much as you love me.”
“Oh, so it’s to show off. Got it,” Eddie poked him in the side, smirking when he laughed. “Get your trophy before they kick us off the stage.”
Steve grabbed his award, waved to the crowd with one final thank you, and let Eddie help him off the stage.
They were getting married in three months, honeymooning in four. They’d just bought their first house together, spent the last seven years renting apartments wherever life took them. They started talking about taking a break after Corroded Coffin’s next tour and Steve’s next movie so they could start a family.
They had so much to look forward to.
But most importantly, they had the backseat of a limo entirely to themselves on the way back to the hotel.
If they left a $500 tip for cleaning after, it was their business.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#ficlet#request#modern au#rock star eddie munson#actor steve harrington#fluff#marriage proposals
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eddie's flat ass (steddie)
Dustin whips around as soon as they’re alone. “Steve!”
“I’m Eddie.”
“No, I mean you and Steve. You like him.”
“Of course I like him, Henderson,” Eddie says flatly, pressing a little harder on the gas in hopes of getting to Dustin’s house before he admits something he regrets. “We’re friends. Best buds. A couple of dudes being bros.”
“You’re full of shit,” Dustin says. “I’m not stupid. I saw that. I wish I hadn’t, but I saw it. You’re, like, stupidly into him. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. His street can’t come soon enough.
Dustin pushes through. “When are you gonna ask him out?”
“Uh, never?”
“What?!”
“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Nothings going to happen, Henderson. Yeah, I’ve got a stupid fucking crush on your babysitter, it doesn’t mean that Steve’s interested in me. He likes girls, Dustin, did you miss that part in the dossier? He thinks we’re a couple of straight guys horsing around, if he found out I was flirting with him I could be thrown into Hunt the Freak 2: the thrilling sequel.”
Dustin’s mouth snaps shut, and he laughs nervously. “Right,” he agrees. “He likes girls. But, uh, hypothetically, if he was into guys…”
They roll to a stop sign, and Eddie turns away from the road to tell the little shit off. But Dustin’s fidgeting, staring steadfast at the road and refusing to meet his eye.
“You know something,” he realizes.
“Uh…”
Eddie’s about to shake it out of him. “You’re hiding something, you little shit. What is it? Tell me.”
“I’m not,” he squeaks.
“Bull-shit you aren’t. What is it? Is it about Steve?” Eddie pales. “Shit, does he know about me?”
“Well…”
“What the hell?!”
“I didn’t tell him!” Dustin yelps. “If you didn’t want him to know, maybe you shouldn’t have been so obvious!”
“Check your tone,” he snaps, hand shaking as he pulls on his hair. “Shit, shit, shit, okay, it’s fine, I just need to flee the country—“
“Why?”
Eddie is this close to throttling the kid. “What do you mean why?”
“Why is this such a big deal?”
“It could get me killed!” He shouts, banging a hand against the steering wheel. “He could—he could fucking tell somebody, and—“
“He wouldn’t do that!”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know that? You think someone’s a good guy until you’re interested in them, and then it’s all ‘You’re fucking disgusting,’ or ‘Freak,’ or ‘Don’t touch me, you fa—‘“
“Stop!” Dustin shouts, white knuckling the armrest. “Eddie, stop. He’s not going to tell anyone. It’s gonna be okay. It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
“It’s fine,” Dustin stresses. “Steve doesn’t care if you’re gay. He definitely doesn’t mind you flirting with him.”
“You don’t know that,” Eddie says.
“Yeah I do.”
“How?”
There’s that deer in headlights look again. Then Dustin takes a deep breath, and his expression turns guilty.
“I know you’re not supposed to tell people this,” he says, “but you’re freaking out really bad and I’m, like, 99% sure Steve thinks you already know.”
“Steve thinks I know what?”
Dustin tells him.
Two hours later, he’s still laying on the floor in the trailer, looking up at the ceiling.
Bisexual. Steve Harrington, the man Eddie’s always hailed as the patron saint of heterosexuality, likes men.
Might like Eddie.
“Are you flirting with me?” Eddie blurts out, and immediately tries to bolt.
He runs face first into a wall and ends up on the ground, wishing the demobats had just killed him.
Steve appears in his line of vision, standing over his sprawled body. Eddie is treated to a wonderful view, eyes moving from his long, athletic legs to his crotch to his chest and broad shoulders, and finally reaches his face. His very amused face.
Eddie’s entire body lights on fire.
“What the hell was that?” Steve asks, laughing.
“Uh…”
“Wile E Coyote over here. Seriously, man, that was some Loony Toons shit. I’m embarrassed for you.”
“Oh my God, shut up,” he groans. “Just let me die.”
“No way in hell. Sorry, Munson, I put too much work into saving your flat ass to throw it away like that.” Steve grins, holding a hand out for Eddie to take. He ignores it, rolling over so Steve can’t see how red his face is.
“My ass isn’t flat,” he mumbles into the carpet.
“Oh, it is,” Steve says cheerfully, nudging said ass with his foot, because he’s a bastard. Eddie doesn’t know why he likes him so much. Everything he does is catastrophically bad for his continued survival. “It’s cute though. I like it.”
“Henderson said, uh, that you were…umm…maybeflirtingwithme?” Eddie finishes in a rush.
“What?”
Steve’s face is open, automatically tilting his right ear towards Eddie. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s aware that’s something he does. Robin says it’s because of all the concussions, his left ear just isn’t what it used to be.
Eddie sags, unable to lie to his wide-eyed confusion. “Dustin said you're flirting with me.”
Steve stares at him.
Eddie fidgets under his incredulous gaze, growing more anxious by the minute. Oh God, Dustin was wrong. Dustin was wrong about everything. Steve probably doesn’t even actually like boys, Jesus. The whole thing is obviously a bust. Eddie needs to cut and run, maybe make some bullshit excuse about his uncle needing him home even though Steve knows Wayne’s working right now—
“You needed Henderson to tell you that?”
#eddie's flat ass au#i tried to come up with a name for two whole minutes and that's what i landed on#eddie munson#steve harrington#dustin henderson#steddie#sorry to all the thicc eddie truthers out there but that man is a board#idk what his actors ass looks like and idc. some things surpass the physical#stranger things fanfic#listen technically dustin is outing steve but in his defense steve fully thinks eddie knows he's bi#and if eddie wasn't told he was going to do something drastic
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girl crush
Summary: there’s more than two beds, but of course you sleep in his.
W.C.: 2.5k
Warnings: y’all know me - it’ll be the usual! Smut, idolatry, devotion, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), pussy drunk Steve— I don’t make the rules 😤‼️
a/n: aka your first time with Steve, who may or may not be your boyfriend?
🎶 I’ve got a girl crush, I don’t get no sleep, I don’t get no peace, thinkin’ bout her 🎶
“Wish I could babe,” his voice sounds distant over the phone, wind whipping every other word through the mic, “But we just started production out here, we won’t wrap for a while yet.” You’d caught him during a break in filming, miraculously.
Several dates in LA after an introduction from Eddie, and here you are trying (and failing) to plan another. He’s back in California after a press tour and you were fresh off of recording your latest album.
“Well,” you drawl out, “I could come to you?” The question is rushed, breathless, you screw your eyes close in fear of fucking it all up.
A pause.
“You sure?”
“S’easier than dealing with your schedule, Harrington,” you say lightly, “Palm Springs is doable enough.”
He’s working on some indie picture out in the desert, you were murky on the details. You hear shuffling from his end and ‘psst’s trying to get someone’s attention.
“Rob… Rob! Can you– yeah, the address?”
A moment later your phone dings with a notification.
“So,” you say, throwing clothes haphazardly into a bag, “What’ve you got planned for us?”
Three or so hours later finds you in the desert and absolutely ecstatic about it. Dressed down in cut-offs and an old merch tank–or, as dressed down as you could get–you breathe in deep, thankful to be out of LA. Little to no paps and tabloids to be worried about–or worse, Deuxmoi acolytes��so you could finally relax.
Steve met you out front with the fattest joint you’d seen in years, he nearly dropped it when you all but tackled him to the ground. You were so happy to be with him again.
“Little soon to be proposing, no?”
“Think I’d do better than some hydro from Arglye,” he grouses, but you take it from him anyway with a deep inhale, “Says ‘hi’ by the way.”
“Tell him I accept and we’re registered at Tiffany’s,” you say finally, exhaling slowly.
He rolls his eyes, “Okay, Material Girl,” he helps to hoist you back up, “Tour time.”
After the grand tour, which was impressive–“Holy shit, do you have Robin on retainer? ‘Cause if not...”--Steve entertained you in the kitchen, making what he called the ‘secret sauce.’
“Oh, that?” you scoff, pouring some wine, “Had that on date number two, if you’ll recall.” You take a sip and continue with a waggle of your brows, “My compliments to the chef, as ever.”
Steve blushes at that, recalling how pretty you had looked with your glossed lips around his cock, all warm and soft under the dim light from the setting sun. A groan rumbles from his chest as he braces himself against the countertop, knuckles turning white.
“You’re a menace,” he said, voice low and gravelly, before he turned his attention back to the pots and pans on the stove.
You shrug and drink some wine, savoring the crisp tart taste against your tongue. Steve flits from one spot to the next while he cooks, stirring the sauce one moment and blanching veggies the next; all the while, remaining loose enough to pour a second glass of wine for you and another for himself.
Infuriatingly attractive that.
The sun had gone down in the desert while Steve finished with the pasta. You’d assigned yourself the task of setting the table and doing the dishes after dinner. Plates and cutlery arranged, you helped yourself to some salad while Steve served the pasta.
You mouth had already been watering at the mere scent of whatever was bubbling away on the stove, and all it took was one bite to have you audibly moaning at the dinner table. His eyes met yours, mischievous and curious, as he sipped his wine.
“Fuck me, that’s good,” you say with closed eyes, savoring the taste.
Steve laughs quietly across the table.
Dinner goes on, you try to reign in your vocal appreciation of the meal. He fills you in on some details of the shoot, set gossip, and the like. You offer up the scant information you have about the upcoming tour and album release. Clearing the table is easy enough between the two of you, knocking hips every so often as you washed and he dried the dishes.
You ended up in his bedroom, collecting the duffle you’d packed from the guest room down the hall. It was a kind thought, that you would opt for a separate room and your own space; he was hesitant like that, never wanting to assume.
Electing to change in the ensuite bathroom, you step out of the denim cutoffs and fold them neatly on the counter. Shoes had been kicked off at the front door earlier in the evening, leaving you now in an ancient Corroded Coffin shirt that had seen better days. He’s sat on the bed, looking all soft and sweet–tousled hair and wire rimmed glasses framing his face nicely, skin flushed from the wine.
He bit his lip when he saw you come out, hair a mess and legs, legs, legs, but a vision nevertheless. He can’t help himself as you step between his splayed knees at the edge of the bed, his hands coming to rest against he curve of your hips.
“Hey honey,” he murmurs as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Hey Steve,” you greet in return, lips pulled tight in an embarrassed smile.
Gently, he tugs you closer to him, the fabric of the shirt rucking up against your skin. His finger skirts against the back of your thigh, the skin shivering involuntarily. “Missed you,” he says, voice raspy and low.
His soft gaze lingers on you, warm hazel eyes looking up through long lashes. “Missed you too,” you say quietly.
“Yeah?” he asks, fingers grasping at the flare of your hips before he leans back on the bed, “C’mere then.”
As you clamber onto the bed, he lays back against the cool cotton of the duvet pulling you down with him. Substantively seated in his lap, you rest your head against his chest and let out a sigh.
“Comfy?” he says, a hand trailing lazily up and down your back. You nod, fingering the fabric of the shirt between your fingers. Softened by time and wear, paint and lettering disintegrating each time you wore it. It smells comforting like you–cardamom and sandalwood with a hint of something boozy–smells like home.
“I’ll keep you close then.”
His other arms falls against your hips while he continues to trace shapes against your back. You feel his lips leave at the crown of your head before his head falls back against the mattress. It’s quiet and he can tell from the rhythm of your breathing that you’re a few minutes from falling asleep.
The nation’s favorite spitfire in his bed, face nuzzled into his chest, bit by bit chiseling your way into his heart.
Steve lets his teeth worry his bottom lip, willing his nerves not to get the best of him. “Y’know, I really like you.”
“Mmm,” your drowsy moan comforting, the lazy smile tugging at your lips setting off the butterflies in his stomach. “I really like you too.”
Fuck, he hadn’t been this nervous in a while. And yeah, you’d been seeing each other for a minute but not long enough to have the ‘what are we’ conversation.
His hand tangles in your hair, loose and windswept from the drive, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp. A muffled moan pours from your lips and vibrates his chest.
“Sorry, sorry” you slur sleepily, “M’not normally such a lightweight.”
Steve, for his part, doesn’t think anything of it. You’d had, what, one glass of wine at dinner— maybe two? But you could be tired from the drive.
Maybe he’s misreading this thing entirely. A brief flicker of panic licks up his spine; maybe it’s too soon, maybe you just want to sleep—
“Can hear you thinkin’ up there,” you mumble and pull him from his downward spiral. A brief movement as you settle your chin to his chest and glance up. Your eyes are half-lidded and sultry, lips pulled in an enticing fashion.
He grunts when you shift your weight until you’re practically sitting on his chest to keep him breathless. He’s smiling up toward the ceiling, one side of his lips curled upward, jaw slack, easy and yielding because Steve offers himself to everything like this: headfirst and wide-open.
It’s be infuriating if he wasn’t crashing headlong toward you. It’d be irritating if he wasn’t so damn earnest about it.
After a while of feeling out each other's atmosphere, eyes catching every so often before flitting away to focus on something else, Steve arches up to request a kiss, all warmth and need.
You lean down to touch your lips to his gently, brushing your nose with his along the way— a wholly delicate gesture he never would’ve expected from you, but has grown to adore.
“We can go slow,” you breathe against his lips. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Steve’s stomach swoops. He reaches up to cradle the back of your neck, drawing your forehead to his. “That so?”
You're smiling— so big and beautiful it hurts. And his heart is so loud he thinks you must hear it.
The kiss was clumsy, you chalked it up to too much drink, but the touch of your lips to his burned down his throat, like whiskey and joy— warm and smooth and cataclysmic as his hand cupped your face. You kiss him and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush in excitement because you’re not letting go, so he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning all the ways you like to feel him there.
“Steve,” you breathe, and it lights him up. “Steve,” you say again, and his eyes slip shut. Even now, he’s crushed with longing.
You press the heat of your core into his groin, grinding your hips into his.
When your tongue touches him again, he thinks he might go blind. His eyes flutter open as much as they can, to savor the moment of your face so close to his. Your eyes, shut. Your skin, flushed. Your hair, a silky, folded curtain against his chest.
You are straddling Steve’s thigh now, sitting on your knees and moving against his thick limb in slow orbits. The underwear sitting against your hips is still there but does nothing to keep the slickness between your legs at bay. His thigh is moist from it, and it catches a shine in the fading light.
“Need you, baby,” you plead. “Any way you want.”
You glow like a full moon in the night, divining his animal desires with phosphorescent eyes.
Too eager now with permission. Too eager now with the fiercest kind of lust—of love—he lets it go. All for you, and you all for him. He nips at your collar, drowning deeper and deeper. Fingers meandering to hook into the gauzy and damp fabric hiding you from him and pulls. Wants you bare and shuddering beneath him. Hip bones against hip bones, the noises you make—ragged and hoarse—sending tremors down his back.
Steve grips your waist and moves you from his leg. A whimper escapes before it turns into a gasp as he turns you around, back meeting the cool of the sheets. “You call it, sweetheart.” Comes his husky voice in your ear. You know he means it completely.
A moan slips forth when he dives into the back of your shirt and tears it off, does the same with his. He wants to hear that noise again. The two of you are entwined like real lovers, pulling apart only to breathe and whisper to each other.
He falls onto his forearms, touching foreheads together, noses together, lips hovering until you meet him in a sloppy half-kiss, tongue slipping over his, spit and sweat shimmering across your mouth.
Steve doesn’t bother taking his boxer-briefs off completely, crumpling them down just below his cock is enough for him to slide in like he was created for you. He tells you as much, as you whimper and cry out beneath him.
“Look at me,” He prompts, tilting your face so you see where he’s connected to you. He’s searing hot as he thrusts upwards. “You were made for this.” He’s delirious with it, the heavy thrum that flows through the union of your bodies, “You were made for me.”
Like a prayer, he repeats your name.
Inside of that deafening miasma, Steve is still awake and a part of him knows that this is what he’d been longing for. His cock is throbbing inside of you and every time he pulls out and thrusts back in, your cunt wipes any shred of doubt from his mind.
Your head tips backwards and he catches the base of your skull in one giant hand. “So good,” you praise, “You’re so good, Steve.”
God, he’s so hard. Cramming himself inside your body, torso to torso, as close as he can get because he needs it—he needs it so bad.
He’s blind with it, drunk off it, beginning to rut like he’s in heat, surprised at the confessions he burns into your neck g’na marry you, fuck— that have you gasping and clenching in equal measure. Catalogues and litanies of honey, baby, fuckfuckfuck, god—growling devotions sinking into your throat, your shoulder, your chest. Sucking inscriptions in the common tongue of love as they slip past his lips.
You take all of him again and again, matching his pace, eyes squeezed shut, opening briefly but dazed. Panting and pleading his name, sudden waves of orgasm making you shake and shiver. Then he starts again— easier, kinder, letting the beast work its way back through his skin. Tongue sweeping lines. Canines pulling flesh.
You sigh and smile. A sacred dream of flesh and blood wrapped around him. “Wanna see you, baby,” you say, “Let me see you, sweetheart.”
So he does, blinking through the darkness and finds you like a beacon, as you always are, as you always will be. His hair falls to one side, lighter from the summer sun, suspended and rocking along.
“’S that good? Like this?”
“Yeah. Yes,” he babbles, “Wanna give you everything.”
“Come with me, Steve—come on, baby.”
And it’s all so fast. Your words. His words. Your hands. His hands. Hips moving in heavy thrusts and hair falling over his face and endless moans of god, fuck, 'm gonna come at the last minute before his eyes roll back behind his lids.
Steve buries his face into your neck, groaning. “Mine,” he whispers finally coming back to himself. Raspy and slow and again when you gasp. Your nails dig into his back reflexively, thighs squeezing him tight.
He’s smiling like an idiot because he doesn’t know what else to do about it. His heart is fluttering and filling up. He looked at you for too long, thought about you too hard even though you’re right here and his, and maybe that’s what launched itself into his dizzy head.
A hard kiss that makes you whimper. Mine. Another to the line of your open jaw. Mine. Your throat. Your collar. Your chest. Mine. Mine. Mine.
You smile into his temple, rubbing your cheek on him, too.
“Keeping me all to yourself?”
He nods eagerly, heart full, then overflowing. “Keeping you forever.”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fan fiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#modern!actor!steve#fic: hmlhr#Spotify
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That’s a Wrap
I’m not crazy in love with the title so if yall have any ideas I’d love to hear them! Posting will be irregular until I can actually get more of this AU written. If you want to be added to the fic Taglist, just let me know! ❤️
Part 1
Steve groans as he begins to wake. He brings a hand to his head, stiffening when Dustin whispers.
“He’s awake!”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Eddie whispers back, smiling when Steve’s eyes land on him. “Hey, man. How’re you feeling?”
“What happened?” He mutters, wincing and pressing a hand to his eye.
“Pain meds,” Eddie nudges Dustin. “Two of ‘em.”
Dustin nods and runs off as Eddie answers. “We don’t know,” he says. “There was a loud pop all of a sudden, and you just… collapsed.”
Dustin comes back and all but shoves the pills into Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he mutters, then frowns at Eddie. “Why’re you using your Eddie voice?”
Eddie frowns back. “Eddie voice?” He parrots. “What do you mean? What other voice would I use?”
“To be fair, you do use a lot of voices,” Dustin says.
“Not helping,” Eddie mutters at him.
“Your normal voice? Joe, man, what’re you doing?”
Eddie takes a breath. “This is going to sound like a crazy question, but bear with me,” he says seriously. “What’s your name?”
Steve frowns at him. “Joe,” he says. “Joe Keery.” He brings a hand to his head again. “Jesus. Cameras still rolling or what? ‘Cause I’ve gotta say, I don’t think I need to be on stage right now.”
“He’s lost it,” Dustin stage-whispers to Eddie.
Eddie privately agrees, but takes a breath. “Your name is Steve,” he says. “Steve Harrington. Do-” he swallows. “Do you know who we are?”
Steve glances at them. “Joe and Gaten. Seriously, are there funny cameras going? ‘Cause I must’a hit my head or some shit, man, but I’m not concussed. At least not enough to forget your names. Or mine, for that matter.” He shakes his head, then regrets it. “Okay, fuck, ow. Just… help me up, c’mon, no prank can be worth me whacking my head again. Get me off set.”
“Um,” Eddie says, not sure what Steve’s saying but knowing he should probably be going to a hospital. “Okay, yeah, we can… go downstairs, I guess?” He exchanges a look with Dustin, then carefully helps Steve, who freezes as he walks out of his room.
“No,” Steve whispers, before practically throwing himself downstairs and out the front door. He stops again in the doorway, hands in his hair. “Shit,” he mutters.
Eddie carefully approaches him. “Steve?”
Steve turns, face unreadable. “Eddie.” It sounds like a question, so Eddie nods. Steve turns to Dustin. “And… and Dustin.”
“Huh,” Dustin says, “maybe you aren’t concussed. Not any more than normal, at least.”
“Okay.” Steve looks around, staggers over to the couch before collapsing and blowing out a breath. “This is going to sound insane,” he says, looking first at Dustin, then Eddie. “But I think I’m in the wrong universe.”
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#stranger things#that’s a wrap#steve harrington#joe keery#eddie munson#dustin henderson#alternate universe#actors#how do I tag this#starambles
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god i love when fics have steve experiencing insane things but being nonchalant about it bc he thinks it's normal when it absolutely is not. i like to think there have been multiple instances where other guys have been like psychosexually obsessed w steve so when billy starts acting like that steve's just like "ugh again?" like imagine if when he's dating eddie he's just casually like "god isn't it so annoying when other guys get like aggressively obsessed w you and stare at you all the time?" and eddie is sitting there chanting wtf in his head wondering how steve is a real human.
Ya I think it'd be very funny if kinda very strange things happen to Steve and he figures that it's just a normal thing. He'll be sitting around with people like hey y'all ever think about when you and your friends would dig a big hole and pretend to bury someone alive and hold a funeral for them and then they'd go home and tell your parents you died in the woods? When your mom ran into the forest she found you covered in flowers and dirt staring at the sky thinking about how cool it'd be to decompose into the ground she cried and it was probably the first time you saw a grown up cry? And every one is like uhhhhh no. Our friends did not actually fake our death semi successfully and scare our parents??? And he goes oh. Huh. Weird!
my HC is Robin is Steve first similar age friend that has not wanted to fuck him since eighth grade. This is funny because she has also never been normal about him. No one has ever been normal about Steve.
I think it's also very funny that Billy teamed up with Tommy, who you know has never been normal about Steve in his life. Like maybe when Steve was in middle school there was a guy who also was weirdly obsessed with Steve except he and Tommy viciously hated each other. Like straight up brawling and crying about it and Steve is there like what the fuck are you doing??? And Carol beside him just shaking her head going uhg Steve they're being gross let's leave.
But Tommy and Billy...They sniffed each other out or something idk how but they found each other and were obsessed with Steve together in a toxic positive feedback loop. And poor Steve is sitting here like "uhg 😑 Still? Another one? Why does this keep happening?" As though it's a completely regular occurrence. Bro. Buddy. What is your life actually.
Eddie finding out about this history and he's just like. No. Steve. I do not know what it's like to have men stare at me with thinly disguised lust?? But also keeping to himself that he was ALSO obsessed with Steve. He's like oooh my god. I'm not the only one?? The one thing I have in common with Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove is our weird obsession with Steve? What kinda world...
Except he's also immensely smug about it because yeah other guys have been obsessed with Steve. It seems to be a Hawkins right of passage for their age group. But Eddie actually got him. He fucking won.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#not billy hargrove friendly#i hope tommys actor knows how much i think about how he said tommy was in love with steve#also i do usually prefer the hc that eddie and steve are just barely aware of each other and dont pay attention to the other#bt for this its too funny#findaanswers#anonasaurus#billy hargrove#IM TAGGING AS AN ORGANIZATION TOOL FOR MY OWN BLOG#its deep enough that it shouldn't show up but.#finda's rambles#steve having an absolutely incomprehensible relationship with any man his age is very funny to me
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