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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

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it's not ever what it looks like

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'

rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal

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It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.

Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.

But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.

Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.

But not daily for over a week.

He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.

And now this article.

There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.

The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?

Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.

Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.

It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.

Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.

He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.

All of them had said mostly the same things:

I can't get ahold of Eddie.

He wouldn't do this.

Something else is going on.

Call me when you can.

The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.

He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.

Steve called Gareth.

"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."

"What's going on?"

Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"

"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."

"Steve-"

"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"

"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"

"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."

Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.

He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.

Until now.

It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.

No time to wallow.

He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.

"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."

"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.

She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.

"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."

"Nothing happened!"

"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"

Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.

Steve nodded once.

Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."

"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.

She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.

His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.

Eddie walked through his door.

He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.

"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.

"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."

The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.

He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.

The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.

He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.

He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.

"I needed to explain-"

"Right."

"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."

Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.

"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."

Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.

He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.

"No, Steve, you don't understand."

"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."

Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.

Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.

Many of them from Eddie himself.

"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.

So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.

But then he started playing the voicemails.

"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."

"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."

"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."

"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."

Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.

"Well?" He asked, broken.

"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.

"Great for him."

"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."

At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.

But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.

"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.

"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."

Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.

But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.

Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.

Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.

He just needed to feel him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”

“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”

Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.

“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”

“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”

“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”

“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”

“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”

Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”

“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”

“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.

Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”

“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.

That bastard.

“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”

“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.

“What?”

“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”

“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.

“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”

Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”

“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."

"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"

"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."

"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."

"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."

"So you're not saying no?"

"Why would I say no?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."

"You're ridiculous."

"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.

"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.

"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."

"I'm not doing that."

"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."

"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."

"The sooner the better, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is saying you're sorry #angst with a happy ending #established relationship #hurt/comfort #rock star eddie munson #teacher steve harrington #arguing #modern au #marriage proposals

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glutominnn · 6 months

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Y'all ever thought about how Sydney change from being this innocent sweet church boy who don't even know what sex is, to an insatiable sex-crazed maniac who also constantly reminds you that you did this (whatever this is, depends on you) and pretty much gaslights that you have it coming to you.

The first time i played the game and corrupted him, I was flabbergasted by his sudden change in behaviors, although the player, us, is fully aware of our choices, the PC however, might not (again, depends).

The reasons why I find myself liking Sydney corrupted version isn't even about his constant craving for carnal pleasure and his openness about sexuality, but more like, I adore how even called "Corrupted", Sydney is very much still have conscience and a sense of rightessness in him, even showing worries for Whitney or Robin if they haven't show up at school. Pure!Sydney also have this, but the difference is, if Pure!Sydney is just gonna give you a pat on the back and tell you to hang on, Corrupted!Sydney will physically want to seek out the person who harmed you.

It's just make the whole Prayer room scene even more traumatic for PC, who would have thought Sydney, who is even no longer an innocent boy still normally very calm and level-headed, would physically beat you into submission if you don't let him have his way.

It's just... kinda felt like betrayal ya know? How he always tells you that you made him who he is, like he have every rights to do this, to have this like you OWNED him, a price to pay for the things you did (doesn't matter intentionally or not) to him. After all, he loved you, yes, but also I feel like living in a town like that have twisted his mindset and how he perceive if someone should take responsibility for his own sexual awakening, consented or not. It's just, really another level of fucked up when you think about it, but also expected since it's been clear you can never really have a completely normal and healthy relationship with any of the LIs in this game lmao

#degrees of lewdity #dol #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen #dol sydney #sydney is so very complicated as a character and i can't help but rambling whenever i talk abt him #there's so much to interpret and discuss #second fav from ivory

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morganski-19 · 6 months

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Steve got used to the idea of waking up alone. Ever since he was eight and his parents left without saying goodbye, it was normal. It was an everyday sort of thing. He'd wake up in an empty house and go about his life, mostly alone.

His friends would stay over sometimes, but they never stayed for longer than a day. When he brought girls over, they always left in the early morning to avoid being caught by their parents. It was just normal.

It wasn't until he met Robin that he actually started to wake up to someone being there. She would stay for multiple days at a time, sometimes, especially when the nightmares were bad. They shared a bed most of the time, sometimes curled up close. It was nice.

But it was different. He and Robin were friends, the things they did together were platonic. Once this void started to get filled, it opened up more wounds with it. He started to wish for the people he was with romantically to stay over, be there when he woke up. They never were.

Until Eddie. The first time Steve and Eddie slept together, he was convinced that Eddie would be long gone by the time he woke up. That it would be like every other sexual encounter he's had.

But when Steve woke up with his arm pinned underneath Eddie's back, he couldn't help but smile. Someone stayed.

Someone that he really liked stayed.

And when Eddie rolled closer to Steve, barely awake, he just pulled him closer and fell promptly back asleep again. Warmth filled up Steve's chest as he looked at Eddie, falling more than he should have in that one second.

He didn't wake up alone, and something told him that he wasn't going to ever wake up alone again.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #ficlet #steddie ficlet

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steviesbicrisis · 1 year

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Thinking about Steve and Eddie being totally clueless about their sexuality because they both had bro friendship which was more of a romantic relationship but they didn't know so they think whatever they're doing is just bros being bros.

Thinking about Robin being the only one aware of herself and those two idiots and losing her mind because of them.

*getting ready for Pride*

Steve: *rainbow stickers on his cheeks* how do I look?

Eddie: wow you're so pretty

Steve: ah thank you bro

Robin: what the fuck

Steve: *upset*

Robin: what happened

Steve: I had a date two nights in a row and I didn't have the time to see Eddie

Steve: it is outrageous

Robin: what about going on dates with Eddie?

Steve: ahaha you're so weird

Robin: *screams into a pillow*

Eddie: ... and she's like cool and all but, I don't know. She isn't my type

Robin: what's your type

Eddie: I don't know, someone who cares for their people, someone who acts like the parent of the group, maybe my same height, hot of course, and strong

Eddie: like, I think they should have the strength to pick me up, that would be hot

Eddie: and with gorgeous hair

Robin: sounds like someone I know

Eddie: What??? why haven't you introduced her to me yet???

Eddie: *DMing a campaign*

Steve: *sighs* isn't he cute?

Robin: you don't pay me enough for this shit

Steve: I don't pay you...?

Robin: EXACTLY

Eddie: Robin I have to ask you something important, it's about me and Steve

Robin: Finally!! It's happening! I've been waiting!!

Eddie: You knew I wanted to ask you who has the best hair??

Robin: I'm going to murder you

Robin: Steve of course

Steve: *on Eddie's lap*

Eddie: *petting Steve's hair*

Robin: Explain this.

Robin: in a straight way.

Steve: we're watching a movie??

Steve: *flirting with a girl*

Eddie: I hate her

Robin: you literally never spoken to her, how do you know?

Eddie: I'm a great judge of character

Eddie: *asking a girl out*

Steve: I hate her

Robin: give me one good reason to hate her

Steve: Eddie is a terrible judge of character

Robin: I'm tired of this, I have to get to the core of the problem.

Robin: have you ever had the same relationship you have with Eddie with any other guy??

Steve: Yeah me and Tommy used to be pretty close. You know, playing basketball together, sleeping at each other's place, helping each other with girls...

Steve: ah, and practice kissing of course

Robin: you quick, I have no time to waste. Who was your Steve before you met Steve?

Eddie: which one? I've had many close friends since kindergarten. I'm pretty sure my first friend was Andy, we would hold hands all the time. He was such a nice friend

Robin: That explains... so much.

Robin: OKAY THAT'S IT!

Robin: have you ever thought there is something a lil gay going on here???

Eddie: What? of course we did!

Steve: Robs we know you're gay

Robin:

Robin: I'm moving out

#steddie #steve and eddie and robin #poor robin #platonic stobin #steve harrington #edddie munson #robin buckley #steve and eddie #steve x eddie #steve and robin #eddie and robin #incorrect quotes #steddie incorrect quotes #stranger things incorrect quotes #stranger things #sbc writes

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morningberriesao3 · 10 months

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Dirty Words

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.

Word Count: 10.2K

Chapters: 1 of 1

Content Warning: Explicit m/m sexual content including dirty talk, masturbation, hand jobs, spit and cum as lube, allusions to anal sex, scent kink, spit kink, multiple orgasms, and oral sex. Excessive swearing. Recreational drug use and drinking. This post includes explicit sexual content, foul language, and sensitive themes. It is intended for those 18 and older ONLY. I am not responsible for the media you consume.

Disclaimer: All characters in my fics engaging in sexual acts are—and always will be—18 or older, even if not explicitly stated.

DIRTY WORDS

Eddie is feeling all floaty and shit. The weed Argyle gave him really is better than the skunkweed he’s been peddling in alleyways since he was sixteen years old. Not that he’ll ever admit to it. Definitely a fact he’ll take to his grave.

But for now, Eddie has the weekend off from his new, lousy day job that Steve and (mostly) Robin managed to bag him at Family Video. To be honest, it had been a last resort. But turns out, business is shit after he fucking finally graduated high school. And now—cherry on top!—he’ll have to figure out how to file taxes and shit. Welcome to the corporate world.

With a sigh, Eddie takes another drag from the perfectly rolled joint that he made himself. Argyle can’t top him on that, at least.

Eddie giggles to himself. Top him. Shit, Argyle could top him if he really wanted to, considering how fucking pent up—

The phone rings, making Eddie jump a good six inches from the sunken couch cushion he’s lounging on. He scrambles to a sitting position, and then lifts himself onto his legs that only slightly wobble like a newborn giraffe underneath him. He runs to the yellowing, plastic phone that’s hung up on his uncle’s trailer’s wall, hoping that maybe it’s the guy Eddie’s been fooling around with on the other end of the line. Maybe he could try the whole phone sex thing. Again. And not fuck it up this time.

“Hello?”

“Eddie?” Steve asks, voice all staticky through the speakers. “Why does it sound like you just ran a marathon, dude?”

Eddie realises he’s panting. He’s not sure if it’s from the short dash to the telephone, or if it’s because his blood was rushing to his cock for a minute there instead of his lungs.

Either way, he should probably consider going for a jog once in a while or something. It’s kind of sad that he’s winded.

“Shut up, man,” he says. “Maybe I was running a marathon. You’d never know.”

“I do know. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you decide to exercise willingly. The sun will be rising in the West. The sky will be green and the grass will be blue when Eddie Munson runs a marathon.”

“You forgot when pigs fly.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He nearly drops the phone that’s wedged between his ear and his shoulder. “Did you call to talk about my general lack of fitness, or is there another reason you called, Harrington?”

“I’m bored,” Steve whines. The phone line crackles. Eddie can only assume Steve is, like, laying in bed or something.

Laying in bed, in those navy blue sheets. Shirtless. Maybe fresh out of the shower. A little wet still, his hair sticking up around his head—

No. Nope.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away the next image (a towel slipping away from Steve’s hips), because three months ago he made a rule for himself. No more fantasising about Steve goddamn Harrington.

It had been becoming nearly impossible to look the other man in the eye after some of the things Eddie imagined doing with him.

Steve continues on, completely unaware of Eddie’s wandering mind. “Robin is working tonight and tomorrow so she can’t hang.”

“Glad to know I’m your second choice,” Eddie teases.

“No! No, I would have called you either way.”

“Sure you would have.”

Eddie smiles to himself. He’s not actually miffed. He and Steve have become way closer than he would have ever imagined possible. It started when Robin would ask him to hang out, and then she’d invite him along with her and Steve, and then somehow he and Steve just started hanging out alone. And it wasn’t even all that awkward.

Turns out Eddie is cooler than Steve thought, and Steve is more of a loser than Eddie thought.

“Eddie,” Steve groans. And Eddie tries not to be perverted about how good it sounds. “Come on, dude. Let’s hang out.”

“Can’t, man,” Eddie says. “I’m busy.”

“What? No you’re not. It’s nine at night and you’re at home. I also know Wayne works a double, so he won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“It’s weird that you know my uncle’s schedule.”

“No it’s not; he works the same shifts every week. Point is, I know you’re alone. Unless you have other friends that I don’t know about?”

“I do have other friends!” (Not really. Just a guy Eddie’s made out with a couple times in the city, and the members of Corroded Coffin who’re away for the summer.)

“Oh.” Steve goes quiet for a moment, and Eddie feels like he won. But then, “Well, are they over right now?”

“No, but—”

“Then you’re not busy! I can bring movies. I have Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Wildcats—”

“What makes you think I want to watch a sports movie?”

“And Labyrinth.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. Shit, he loves David Bowie, and he hasn’t been able to get his hands on a copy yet. But he also knows Steve won’t just return the movie before Eddie has the chance to see it, because Steve isn’t mean like that. Not like Eddie is.

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting high and being alone!” And jerking off for the next hour and a half to see how many times he can make himself come before it becomes unbearable.

Eddie doesn’t add that last point, for obvious reasons.

“I like getting high. Please, Eddie? I’m so bored. And my house is empty and quiet, and you know how I get nightmares when—”

“Okay! Okay, oh my god, fine. You’re so whiny.” Eddie had no idea Steve was such a beggar. He kind of likes it. “But you have to bring beer as payment. Afterhours fee.”

“Yes,” Steve says, sounding like he’s doing something dorky like punching the air. “Beer it is. See you soon.”

“Hey, Harrington, can you give me, like—” half an hour, Eddie wants to say. But the line goes dead.

He wonders if he can manage to pump one out before Steve gets to the trailer. And the thing is, his dick is harder than he’d like to admit after hearing Steve’s voice. So he’s going to try.

Eddie runs to his room, pulls down his flannel pants so the elastic sits taut under his balls. He doesn’t bother laying in his bed; he just sits on the edge of it, facing his mirror, watching as he fists his own cock and gives it a few tugs. It’s not a narcissism thing, Eddie just likes the visual. Likes to imagine it’s someone else’s hand, or someone else’s cock. Likes to see the tip of it, shiny and red, as his foreskin pulls down his shaft to expose it.

He wonders if Steve is cut or not.

Fuck—no. No, no, no.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking about Steve, he should be thinking about the guy from the bar. About how hard his dick had been, pressing into Eddie’s hip as they made out against the wall in the alleyway.

Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s doing something…

Eddie watches as his hand pumps over his cock, watches as it starts to strain, the veins popping from the skin as he builds himself up. He squeezes hard around the crown. It only gives a little under the pressure, considering how hard he is, but it makes his dick offer up a pearl of precum that he gathers and spreads around the slit. When he lifts his thumb away, a sticky string connects his hand between his legs.

He likes the way that looks. He likes when things start to get messy. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see the guy from the bar’s cock like this, if he also likes to play with cum and spit.

If Steve ever plays with cum and spit when he’s on his own, like Eddie does. He wonders how Steve touches himself, what he likes, what he doesn’t like, what sounds he makes, what face he makes…

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Yeah, that’s fucking good.

Okay. Okay it’s fine, Eddie will just think about Steve one more time, and then he’ll for sure stop doing it. Just this one more time…

A jolt travels from Eddie’s cock into the tight muscles of his stomach as he imagines Steve’s face all twisted up in pleasure. Those strong thighs bracketing Eddie’s head as he sucks back little dribbles of salty white that leak out of Steve. His nose brushing against a mound of dark hair that Eddie just knows would grow thick around the base of Steve’s cock; little curls that smell like honey and almond soap, because Steve uses the expensive shit.

Jesus Christ. What he wouldn’t give to go down on Steve, just once. Just one time.

Eddie’s mouth waters as his hand flies harder, faster. He’s so fucking close. Just a quick, dirty orgasm before Steve comes over. Steve. Fuck, yes, Steve—

There’s a loud knock on Eddie’s front door.

No! Shitshitshit. He just needs two more minutes. Maybe not even that, just one—

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is muffled beyond the walls of the trailer. Eddie almost considers letting him wait outside while he finishes up, but he can hear Steve’s footsteps getting closer to his bedroom window.

A rock hits the glass and shocks Eddie enough that it sets him back. Now it would definitely take the full two minutes.

“Shit! Goddamn fucking Harrington—” Eddie stands from the mattress and releases his cock from the death grip he had on it. It bobs between his legs, so fucking stiff that there’s no way it’s going away on its own anytime soon. “One sec!”

Eddie has no choice but to tuck his cock into the waistband of his pants. The tip pokes up under his navel, like it’s staring angrily at him for not finishing the job he started. It’s throbbing, and leaking, and getting the fabric it’s tucked into all damp.

“Same,” he mumbles to his dick as he grabs a longer t-shirt and pulls it over his head.

Another rock smacks against his window.

“Coming!” Well, he was about to anyway.

He doesn’t jog to greet Steve, because he doesn’t want to risk his dick slipping from its hiding spot. That is a conversation Eddie wants to avoid.

When he opens the front door, Steve has another rock in his hand, aimed towards Eddie’s window.

“You better not throw that, Harrington.”

Steve’s head whips around. His eyes are full of mischief, a small smile on his lips. His hair is freshly washed and styled, just like Eddie suspected. And his outfit is positively sinful (if you’re horny like Eddie is). Grey sweatpants and a plain white tee, which Eddie thinks is the guy version of lingerie.

Totally unfair, especially when Eddie would just like if his dick would go soft again.

“Why did you take so long, dude? Your trailer park is scary in the dark.”

Eddie gawks at Steve. “You’ve literally fought monsters and a dark wizard in an alternate dimension, and you think my trailer park is scary?”

“Yeah.” Steve points over his shoulder to a mobile home down the lane. “There was an old dude watching me from his window.”

“Mr. Jackson?” Eddie tilts his head, sees the curtains ruffling as his neighbour draws them back. “He’s… mostly harmless. I think.”

“You think?” Steve flings up Eddie’s steps and quickly locks the door behind him.

“Totally. I mean, besides the shotgun he keeps next to his couch. But that’s reserved exclusively for handsome young men that come around the trailer park after nine PM.” Eddie checks his watch, gasps in mock fear, widens his eyes, and peers out of the window behind Steve’s head. “That means you’re not safe! I think—I think I hear him loading the gun!”

Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, just for a second, as he cranes his head to look out the window. When Eddie’s sarcasm finally sinks in, he lets go and punches him (a little too hard) where his hand had been. “You’re such a dick.”

“I think that was kind of a compliment,” Eddie says, rubbing at the place where he would surely bruise. “I did say you were handsome.”

Steve flops down on Eddie’s couch and tosses a bag full of VHS tapes and a six pack onto the ground by his feet. He leans back, like he’s making a point, flourishing his hand over the length of his body with the most disgustingly sexy lazy smile on his face. “Yeah, well, that’s common knowledge.”

Jesus.

Eddie looks down to make sure his cock is still out of sight. He can feel it pulse between his legs as he hears Steve’s voice, sees how he stretches on the sofa. But thank God, he’s still tucked away and Steve should be none the wiser.

He takes his place next to Steve—makes sure his shirt drapes loose enough around him that it hides how hard he is.

He wonders if blue balls are a real thing. Will Eddie have severe health defects if he doesn’t come? Will his boner go away on its own?

Questions that he’ll find out sooner or later, he supposes.

“Little full of yourself, are you, Harrington?”

Steve sighs. “Not at all. It’s actually hard work being this gorgeous. You would know.”

Eddie feels his cocky expression fall from his face.

Did Steve just call him gorgeous? Or did Eddie totally misinterpret his words? He blushes and figures it’s better to be safe than be sorry. “Sure,” is all he replies with.

“So,” Steve says casually, “where’s this weed I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Eddie smiles, big and sweet, and points towards his bedroom where he left the joint to fizzle out in an ashtray before he molested himself. “Be a dear and go grab it from my nightstand?”

The truth is, Eddie’s pretty sure the tip of his dick slipped from under the elastic of his pants when he sat down. Miraculously, he thinks it’s starting to deflate by the teensiest fraction, but it would still basically slap Harrington in the face if he tried to stand.

Which—good thing or bad thing? Eddie isn’t sure. That would all have to do with Steve’s reaction. But he’s not willing to find out.

Steve rolls his eyes but gets up like a good little boy to fetch the ashtray. He brings it and the lighter to the coffee table where Eddie had been smoking before.

Fifteen minutes later, Eddie is back in his floaty state with a beer between his legs instead of a hard on. Turns out, stiffies don’t actually last forever if you don’t let yourself come. It’s just very, very frustrating.

“You up for another beer?” Steve asks slowly, reaching into the bag to grab two bottles. His eyes are glazed and blown, and Eddie thinks he looks totally fucked up already. It’s hilarious.

“Yeah, I’m down.”

Steve hands Eddie a new PBR, and his eyes do this little flare thing that makes him look adorable. “Woah.”

“Woah what?” Eddie asks, popping the cap and replacing his empty bottle with the new one.

“Being up for something and being down for something mean the same thing, even though they’re the opposites. I just realised that.”

Eddie smiles against the lip of the bottle, feeling the glass clink against his teeth. “Shit, man, you’re so high.”

“Am not.” Steve honest to God giggles as he makes eye contact with Eddie. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

“I’m glad you came over, Harrington,” says Eddie after a beat. “Better than another night alone.”

Steve opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of the telephone ringing.

Both men turn their heads to stare at the wall phone, but Eddie doesn’t make a move to stand up to actually answer.

Because, for some reason, his mind is suddenly going a million miles a minute.

He knows it’s not his uncle calling in the middle of work, and he knows it’s obviously not Steve. The chances that it’s Robin are slim to none because her shift doesn’t end for another half hour. Gareth and Jeff are away with their respective families.

So the most logical answer to who’s calling after dark, would be the guy from the bar.

And the thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to raise questions. Isn’t sure if he’s capable of thinking of a good enough excuse as to who it was or why he’s calling. Yeah, he could probably have at least answered and told Bar-Guy to call back tomorrow, that he has company, but his brain isn’t thinking fast enough. So he just kind of… stares at the phone as it rings.

“I’ll get it,” Steve says after a few seconds, and suddenly he’s standing from the couch and reaching for the telephone—

“No!” Eddie pounces, because that’s even worse than if Eddie just answers the damn phone himself. He flounders towards Steve, grabbing the outstretched hand, stopping it from curling around the phone. “Stop! Stop—just let it ring!”

Steve gawks at him, but holds his hands in surrender in front of his chest.

The phone rings one more time, and then the kitchenette goes quiet.

Eddie heaves a sigh of relief, even though he probably just made more questions arise than he avoided by not picking up.

“What—what was that about?”

“Nothing,” Eddie huffs, dragging his feet back to the couch.

Steve follows closely behind. Just as Eddie flops onto the cushions, Steve is on top of him, tickling the shit out of Eddie’s arms, his sides, his stomach.

Eddie was not expecting anything like this—Steve’s hands all over him, his leg slung over Eddie’s to hold him down, the smell of Steve’s breath hitting his face. It’s not a bad smell, like freshly brushed teeth and beer and weed, and it’s warm, because their faces are so close together.

All Eddie can to is half-shriek-half-laugh, even as his mind muddles with confusion (and lust. Obviously).

“Tell me!” Steve commands, digging his fingers into Eddie’s neck, down his back, dangerously close to his thighs…

The boner that he just got rid of starts to fill out once more.

“Stop, dude!” Any sense of authority is lost under Eddie’s laughter that he can’t control. “No! Stop!”

“Come on, Munson. Spill the beans.”

Eddie tries flipping onto his stomach, but Steve follows him, blanketing over his back. The panes of his chest press behind Eddie, hard and warm, crowding him against the pillows. And there’s also friction.

Friction that could easily become a problem if Steve keeps goddamn moving against Eddie, making his hips rub against the couch—

“Okay! Uncle. Uncle!”

Eddie keeps panting face-down as Steve lifts himself away from his back.

“So?” Steve asks with a smile in his voice, triumphant from his win. An unhonourable win, as far as Eddie is concerned. Tickle torture is a serious offense. “What’s up your ass?”

Eddie snorts as he sits up, casually grabbing one of the throw cushions to hold against his lap.

Nothing, he wants to say. That’s the problem.

Instead, he just kind of adverts his gaze and goes for the truth.

“I’ve—kind of—been talking to…” this guy.

It’s not like Eddie has been hiding his sexuality from Steve, per se, but other dudes are way less accepting than girls about it. His first official ‘coming out’ had been to Robin (an obvious choice after she told him she’s a lesbian), and then to Nancy.

Apparently, Steve had been really cool when Robin told him she likes girls. But this is a different situation. Steve might be afraid that Eddie will, like, come on to him or something. Which… fair enough. Eddie probably would.

So, instead of finishing with the whole truth, he dampens it down a bit, and says, “Someone.”

“Oh. Shit.” Steve’s eyes do this thing where they drop to the floor, and then shoot sideways to Eddie, his eyebrows crumpled like a cartoon above his nose. He grabs the blunt, takes a deep drag. “That’s good though, right?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure.”

“Sweet. So what’s the issue?”

All of it. Everything.

Because said guy lives all the way in Indianapolis—two hours away—and the only chance they have to communicate is through phone. Which, by proxy, means that the only times they can actually meet up is after a phone conversation.

Not to mention the fact that they aren’t, like, official—that they just made out a few times. Once outside of the bar, and a couple times in the back of Eddie’s van, which left him achingly hard when they parted ways.

This circles back to point number one about the phone conversations. They’re awkward. They don’t know each other well, don’t know what to talk about. Things don’t just flow naturally. Not like they do with—oh, say—Steve.

Maybe the worst part is that Eddie is a twenty-one-year-old man with raging hormones that—as much as he wishes otherwise—he cannot control. His self-discipline is basically nil. Nada. Zero. He’s fucking horny all the time.

So how is he supposed to deal with long-distance plus rare phone calls?!

Bingo. Yep. Phone sex. It’s the obvious answer, is it not?

So Eddie, like, tried.

And he thought it started well!

What are you wearing? Is that not fucking obvious where Eddie was headed? Is that not the exact line that they use in movies and shit? That’s what he said—What are you wearing?—and then he shoved his hand down his pants and waited for Bar-Guy to get into it, start saying something filthy into the speaker that would get Eddie going.

Maybe like… ‘Nothing at all,’ or, ‘tight boxers that show off my cock,’ or—fuck—'a towel slung low on my hips’. Something like that!

But all Eddie got was, “Uh—sweatshirt. Jeans. Why are you breathing hard?”

And then Eddie had said, “Just thinking about you,” with his low and gravelly voice, to help keep the conversation moving (again, he thinks this is pretty obvious and, like, at least a bit sexy).

Here’s the real kicker. The dude then said, “Are you… touching yourself?”

And it was not a sexy question. He sounded completely weirded out! Horrified! Disgusted!

So Eddie pulled his hand out of his pants and basically yelled, “No!”

Deny deny deny. Eddie is good at that shit.

The conversation had gone on to other things. Dinner plans, or something. Eddie didn’t really care. All he could think about was that this guy probably didn’t want to fuck him. They’d had the opportunity before, and it never progressed. And the thought of Eddie even fisting his own cock all but repulsed him.

Such a damn shame. Because Eddie is so desperate, so pent up, so sick of fucking his own hand, that he’s literally about to drill a hole in one of Uncle Wayne’s oranges and go to town until there’s nothing left but pulp.

Eddie doesn’t tell Steve any of this. He just groans really loud and buries his face in his hands, and says, “I don’t know!”

“C’mon, man. Something’s up. Out with it.” Steve waves his hand in encouragement, vaguely gesturing to the empty trailer and himself. “Safe space.”

Eddie peeks through his fingers at Steve, and he just looks so… genuinely curious. Like he actually wants to help, or at least hear, Eddie’s problems.

“Okay, fine.” Eddie snatches the joint from between Steve’s fingers and sucks it back like it’s water, keeping his gaze from Steve’s (beautiful) hazel eyes. “It’s just that I… I kind of made it awkward. Last time we talked on the phone. I tried to initiate… uh”—he clears his throat—“phone sex.”

Steve’s eyes go wide, his forehead crinkling with surprise. His lips are shiny and pink. But that second part doesn’t have anything to do with Steve’s expression—Eddie just happened to notice them.

“Fuck,” Steve says, leaning forward to set his bottle on the table in front of them. “Yeah. I’ve been there before, man. What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“I don’t know. What did you say? I assume it didn’t go well considering how you’re all… tense and shit.”

“Tense and shit.” Eddie laughs once, then mumbles, “You have no idea.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Steve encourages.

“It’s not! I started with the classic, what are you wearing?” Eddie drops an octave, making fun of his attempt to sound hot. “And then I got an actual play by play of what they were wearing.”

Steve sits back and thinks about it for a minute—his legs splayed, and his arms crossed over his chest. “I think the issue with that is… it’s obvious, but it’s not sexy.”

“How is it not sexy, dude?” Eddie asks, exasperated. “It’s literally a steppingstone into, like, a form of sex!”

“Yeah, sure, but it doesn’t get you hot. You know?”

“No, Steve, I don’t know. Because I’m always hot. Someone could bend to tie their shoes and I’d fucking cream my pants.”

Steve hiccups a startled laugh. “Fuck. Me too. It’s been forever.”

“I don’t think it’s natural for a guy to go this long, man.” Eddie swigs back the rest of his beer and cracks a third. Lights up a new joint, too. And honestly, regardless of his tolerance, he’s pretty fucked up.

“Do you know how many chicks I’ve gone out with? None of my dates have even led to hands stuff. It at least sounds like you’re close to sealing he deal.” Steve lolls his head towards Eddie with a cheeky little smile on his lips. “I mean, if you didn’t suck at talking dirty.”

“I do not suck!” Eddie cries, grabbing the throw cushion from his lap to smack it against Steve’s smug face.

Steve catches the pillow and rips it playfully away from Eddie’s grip. “Then show me.”

Eddie stares at Steve for way too long. He narrows his eyes after a few seconds. “You’re kidding me.”

“Not kidding. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re doing wrong.” Steve leans forward, plucks the joint right out of Eddie’s slack lips. “Just pretend I’m on the other end of the line.”

“No way, dude.”

Steve curls his hand up to look like a telephone, pretends to dial in a number. Brings it up to his ear. “Riiiinngg. Riiiinngg. C’mon, Eds, you’re getting a sexy phone call. Pick up. Riiinngg.”

Eddie feels his face flush red. He’s not sure if it’s from where this conversation is headed, or out of sheer embarrassment for Steve’s sake. “Holy fuck. You’re such a loser, Harrington.”

“I’ll just pretend you already answered and said hello. Hey, Eds. It’s… wait, what’s this guy’s name?”

Eddie opens his mouth. Then closes it again, because Steve just said guy. Not girl. Guy. Is this a slip of the tongue? Or did Buckley out Eddie to Steve? Or Nancy?

No, neither of them would do that. Maybe Steve just figured it out from context clues.

But still, to be sure, Eddie just says, “What?”

“What’s his name?” Steve askes again.

So—shit—it definitely wasn’t a slip of the tongue. But Steve isn’t freaking out. Hasn’t freaked out in the past. And he’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but not judgy or anything.

Eddie clears his throat. “Nick.”

“Nick! Strong name. Not as strong as Steve, but not everyone can be a Steve—”

“Come on, man!” Eddie groans. Again. Hides his face. Again.

“Okay, Okay!” Steve clears his throat. “Hey, Eds, it’s Nick. What’re you up to?”

Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it forcefully out of pursed lips. “Uhh—hey, Nick… I’m…”—his eyes flick sideways to catch Steve staring at him with a half-smile on his face—“no. Nope! I can’t do this.”

Eddie goes to stand from his perch on the couch, but Steve’s arm shoots out to grab him. “Alright. Let’s just do it, you and me. No phone roleplaying required. Just start with saying a compliment you’d tell Nick or something.”

“Alright… Okay… Uh, you’re—I mean Nick—is really funny?” Eddie says. Nick isn’t all that funny but, fuck, it’s all Eddie can think of. Steve is funny, though, so it’s easy enough to say.

“Yeah, good. That’s good. What else?”

“And you’re really hot. Really fucking hot.”

“Good.” Steve shifts around on the couch, maybe trying to get more comfortable. “And then Nick would say something like, You’re really hot, too.”

Eddie stifles a giggle. “I really don’t think he would.”

“Well, just pretend he does. And then it’s your turn to keep the conversation heading in the direction you want it to.”

“By saying what, Harrington?”

“Try saying how I—Nick—makes you feel.”

“Okay. You make me feel… like I’m vibrating. Like I’m pressurized, or something.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes, his voice dropping an octave. Probably just getting more into character. “What does that make you do, when you feel like that?”

“It makes me… makes me hard.” Eddie feels his hips pitching forward. His cock twitches under his flannel pants.

A dangerous game they’re playing. Maybe Steve doesn’t know just how serious Eddie was when he said he’s pent up.

“Fuck,” Steve says lowly.

“Too much?”

“No! Nah, it’s good. It’s hot. I mean, sometimes it’ll take longer to build into that kind of stuff, but keep going.”

Eddie nods nervously. “Okay. Uh, what do I say now?”

Steve sits up a bit to adjust the band of his sweats. “Sorry. So, you said it makes you hard. And then I’d say… me too. That it makes me hard just talking about it. Just thinking about it.”

Eddie’s dick is starting to properly fill out again. It makes sense since he never got to come after taking himself right to the edge before Steve came over.

He takes a steadying breath to try to will it away. “Shit. Okay.”

“Do you like that?” Steve asks. “Do you like thinking about how hard my cock gets when I think about you?”

“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.

Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.

He can’t help but blurt out, “I want to suck your cock.”

Because it’s true. Eddie’s mouth is watering just from the thought of it. But as soon as the words push past his lips, he realises that it’s not exactly fitting in the theme of phone sex. So he quickly adds, “If we were together right now. Instead of—uh—just on the phone.”

“Fuck, yeah. You’d suck my cock so good.” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie swears his eyes trail over his body, landing between his legs and then back up to his mouth. “I’d fuck your throat so deeply you’d gag and drool all over yourself.”

Eddie can’t help himself from groaning at that image. And as if his body is proving to Steve just how right he is, a trickle of saliva escapes the corner of his lips before he’s able to swallow it back.

He lifts his hand to wipe the back of it against his mouth. “Jesus, Steve.”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie. His voice is low and soft and seductive, and Eddie is having a very hard time remembering that this is a game as he says, “And then I’d ask if you’re touching yourself.”

The words echo those of Nick’s. But when Steve says them, he doesn’t sound horrified at the thought. He sounds like he wants Eddie to be fucking his hand while they talk. Like the thought turns him on almost as much as it does Eddie.

“I would be, by now,” Eddie confesses, wiping his sweaty palms against his knees. He desperately wants to trail them higher, wants to rub between his legs where he’s throbbing and hot. His pants feel like a sauna. They’re humid and sticky, and he knows it’s partly because he’s radiating heat, but also because his cock is already starting to dribble.

“I would be, too,” Steve says. “I mean, Nick would be, too. If I was Nick. And I’d—I’d ask how you were touching yourself. What it felt like.”

Eddie glances between Steve’s legs again. And—holy shit—Steve is hard. As hard as Eddie.

His cock is fucking massive, as far as Eddie can tell. Thick, and long, sitting sideways inside his pants against his hip. Eddie knows it would stand proud by Steve’s belly button if it wasn’t trapped.

And he’s also pretty sure Steve is circumcised by the obvious ridge he can see under the fabric.

Maybe it’s dumb, or false hope, or just how ridiculously horny he is (again), but Eddie is feeling encouraged. Because he’s not the only one who’s getting hot. He’s not the only one who’s participating, or the only one who’s bricked up.

So… why not get into it a bit more?

“I’d say that I have my hand wrapped around my cock. That it feels heavy in my hand. And wet. That I’m leaking all over myself.” Eddie’s hips pitch forward on their own accord, the sensitive tip of his dick deliciously grazing against the flannel of his pants. “And I’d tell you that it feels good. Really fucking good. But it would feel better if it was your hand instead.”

Steve is the first one to break.

Eddie can tell it’s an automatic reaction when he reaches for his cock and squeezes where it’s straining under his sweats. Awareness shimmers in Steve’s eyes, and he quickly pulls his hand away again. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s all good,” Eddie says fast as a whip, repeating Steve’s words from earlier. “Just means we’re doing good, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s laugh is small and breathy. “Really good.”

Eddie swallows his nerves, decides to see if he can keep whatever this is going. “What would you say after that?”

It seems it’s Steve’s turn to be flustered. Eddie can see red creeping up his neck, like his chest is flushed. It reaches his cheeks and makes him look all bright and pink. “I’d tell you what I’d be doing.”

“Which would be?”

“I’d be reaching under my pants, and I’d circle my fingers around my dick. Gently at first, because—because I’m sensitive down there. And I want to make it last.” Eddie watches as Steve’s hands lift back to his lap. And then pinch the hem of his shirt. A strip of his sun-kissed stomach flashes as his fingers tease against the drawstring of his pants. “Like this.”

Steve’s hand disappears as it pushes down into his sweats. It moves along the length of his cock. He adjusts so it’s no longer sitting sideways; it’s now straight up, as big as Eddie assumed, dangerously close from peeking past the waistband.

Eddie would not be upset if it did.

The best part is when Steve’s hand starts moving under the fabric. Long, soft strokes that Eddie can tell are featherlight, mostly just fingertips teasing against his skin. Just enough to make Steve bite down on his lip and his breath hitch in his throat.

“Steve—fuck.” Eddie’s mouth goes dry as he watches Steve touch himself. And he has a few fleeting thoughts.

First is the classic, Am I dreaming? Because surely Steve Harrington is not jerking himself off in Eddie’s living room on a Friday night while they say filthy things to each other under the guise of another dude.

Impossible.

The second comes after Eddie subtly pinches himself and doesn’t wake up. Which is, Is this a joke? Because now that he knows he’s (probably) not asleep, there must be some other horrible explanation for what’s happening. He racks his brain, plays back the events that led him here.

Eddie doesn’t think he could misinterpret everything. But he’s probably done dumber things in his life.

Plausible.

And the third—which is the thought that’s taking up the majority of his consciousness—is, Am I allowed to touch myself, too?

He doesn’t let himself consider this one too long. Because there’s no way in Hell that Eddie would be able to stop himself. Not if a gun was pointed to his head.

So he shoves his hand down the front of his pants and squeezes his cock way more aggressively than Steve.

It’s both not enough and instant satisfaction. Like when you start scratching an itch and it seems to get itchier as your nails dig into your skin, but at the same time it’s doing exactly what you need to soothe the discomfort.

Eddie’s lips part as he grabs his balls and gives them a taut squeeze. His dick basically weeps against his skin. So much precum is pushing from his slit that it’ll be a miracle if there’s any left when he actually comes. Fuck, he hopes this time he can actually come.

His heart is beating so goddamn fast in his chest that there’s a good chance if he stops for a second time this evening, it will give out. He really, really will die.

“Does it feel good?” Steve practically purrs the question.

Eddie nods fervently, but he’s not able to form words. He doesn’t know where to look; Steve’s blown eyes that seem more black than hazel, his hand that’s speeding up under his sweats, the damp patch that’s forming where his cock must be leaking nearly as much as Eddie’s if it has already soaked through the fabric, or the growing expanse of abs on show—flexing in tandem with Steve’s strokes—as his free hand continues to lift the hem of his shirt.

Fuck, Eddie wants to come. Right now. He wants to come right fucking now.

He squeezes the base of his cock, bordering on the verge of pain, to stop his orgasm in its tracks. “So good, Stevie.”

Steve’s head falls back against the couch cushion, his eyes flicking between Eddie’s legs, his mouth, back down again… back up. He’s pumping himself with more intent now, his wrist twisting with each upwards stroke. “I wish it was your lips on me. I just know how good they’d feel. You have perfect dick-sucking lips.”

Eddie attempts stroking his cock again. It zaps into the coil in the pit of his stomach, but if he goes slow he’s sure he can go at least thirty second before he’s on the edge again.

“You have no idea, Steve,” he says, his tongue wetting his lips like he just might fall to his knees and start sucking Steve off for real. “I’d keep them nice and soft like you said you like. The inside of my mouth would be so wet—fuck, I’m salivating just thinking about it. And then I’d seal them around your big cock and hallow my cheeks when you least expect it, and you’d fucking thrust into my throat in surprise—”

Eddie moans, dropping his grip on himself yet again. That time it was really close; he can feel his dick pulsing under his pants. If he were alone, he’d push them down and watch as his cock twitched against his abdomen, angry at the loss of his fingers at the last possible moment.

Across from him, Steve speeds up; his hand moving in quick, short bursts against his tip. He makes his own noise, his eyes rolling back into his skull and then closing altogether.

It takes everything inside Eddie not to grab himself and come inside his pants right then and there. Shit, Steve looks so fucking good. Eddie desperately wants to see more. The colour of Steve’s dick, the way it strains, if it’s curved or straight, if it’s shiny. He wants to see it leak, wants to see Steve’s fingers catch the pearls of precum that are soaking through his pants and rub them into his skin. Wants to see it web between his fingertips—sticky and white. Wants to suck it off of them.

Shit. Fuck. It’s a miracle Eddie isn’t coming untouched. He’s still right there, on the verge of his orgasm. One single, insignificant, breath of a touch would one hundred percent set him off.

Steve’s eyes open. He drops his own dick, wipes his palm against his t-shirt. And he scootches closer to Eddie.

Just the brush of Steve’s thigh against Eddie’s makes him tremble, makes Eddie feel like he’s going to lose any semblance of control that remains.

They’re pressed right against each other. The length of Steve’s leg is warm and strong against Eddie’s, bigger than his. Thicker. Just like the rest of him.

Steve spits in his hand. Eddie watches as it pools in his cupped palm, watches as Steve brings that hand back down to the front of his pants. He stretches the waistband away from his body, and for a split second, Eddie catches a glimpse of his cock. Just the crown, broad and pink like Steve’s lips, right before the elastic snaps back and covers him again.

Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t you dare fucking come, Eddie Munson.

“And then,” Steve says, adding fuel to the fire, “I’m gonna bend you over the arm of this couch. You’ll look so hot, with your back arched and your ass on full display.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Fuck it. Eddie sticks his hand back down his pants, but barely touches himself. Just draws a line up the fat vein on the underside of his cock. He can feel his heartbeat under the pad of his finger.

“I’ll push into you so slowly. You’ll feel so full with my dick in your tight little asshole. And you’ll make those sexy little noises the whole time.”

Eddie makes one of them right as Steve says that—a low, quiet rumble from the back of his throat.

“Yeah, just like that. And then… then I’ll start fucking you. It’ll feel so good, Eddie.” Steve fucks his fist harder, his hips lifting from the couch like he’s chasing his own touch. His hand sounds wet on his cock, slapping and squelching each time it smacks against the base. “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you start crying. That you start screaming. Your scary neighbours will know how good I’m fucking you from the noises they hear coming out of your trailer.”

Eddie wonders if he lets himself come if it’ll be the end of whatever is happening. He knows for a stone-cold fact that he’ll be able to stay hard after the first time. But Steve doesn’t know that. Not yet. Maybe he should tell him.

But for now, Eddie tries to regain some control, some semblance of his quippy, cocky personality, just so he doesn’t come off entirely as a whimpering fool (if it’s not already too late). He tries to smirk. “Bold of you to assume I’m a bottom, Harrington.”

“A bottom?” Steve asks, and Eddie realises that maybe it’s a term that he’s never heard before. Because he’s straight… (question mark?). Again, Steve uses context clues. Smart guy. He presses impossibly closer into Eddie’s side, and asks, “Are you telling me you don’t want to feel my cock inside of you? Don’t want my cum dripping from your asshole for hours after we fuck?”

Eddie’s whole body vibrates. That’s it. The end. He fists his cock and pumps it hard, pulling his foreskin forward enough to cover the head, back to expose it, all underneath the checkered fabric of his pants. “I’m gonna come, Steve. I’m coming.”

His teeth bite painfully into his lower lip as he lets himself tumble from the ledge. Cum surges from his cock hard enough that he knows it would have painted his entire chest if it wasn’t contained inside of his pants. Each wave of his climax makes him whine aloud. It sounds crude, mixed with the slick slap of his hand against his skin.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles, staring as Eddie’s working fist, eyes blown wide like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

And maybe it shouldn’t, but Eddie’s left hand reaches out with a mind of its own, gripping high on Steve’s thigh. Squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise, while his right is covered with hot, slick cum.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie babbles, riding out his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Keep going. Keep talking. Don’t stop. I’m not finished yet, I wanna come again. Please. Please.”

“Oh, fuck, Eddie.” Steve brings his own hand down atop where Eddie’s is still sunk into the flesh of his upper leg. For a moment, he thinks Steve is going to pry his fingers away, but instead he laces them with his own.

It’s such a simple thing, holding hands, but it feels intimate. Intentional. Like this isn’t just some game.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking that. But he is. He is. And it’s the moment he consciously knows he’ll be ruined for anyone else. End game for Eddie Munson. Steve held his hand while they jerked off. He’s in love.

Steve yanks him from his internal monologue. “You can come twice in a row?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his hand still squeezing between his legs. Each stroke sends a bolt of lightening through his entire body, but his dick barely softens in his hand before it stiffens back up to steel once more. “Usually more than that. Four times if I want, but—but not as much cum comes out as the first.”

“Oh my God,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I… Can I see?”

His eyes flicker down to Eddie’s crotch.

“Sure.” Eddie pretends he’s confident as he tugs down his pants, lifting his hips enough to push the fabric under them.

His cock springs free from where it was trapped.

He doesn’t want to be self-conscious of his body, but he can’t help but wonder what Steve sees. If he’s at all disappointed that Eddie’s dick isn’t as big as his. It he thinks it’s weird that he’s uncut or that his dick curves upwards. If he let his pubes grow too long.

But Steve’s eyes go heavy with desire, taking in every inch of Eddie. The way his entire dick is shiny and sticky with his own cum, how it gets stuck in the hair that grows below it. His fingers squeeze around Eddie’s, involuntarily or in encouragement, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel better.

Eddie is about to ask if Steve would show him more, too.

Steve beats him to it. “Do you want me to—?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”

Steve brings the hem of his shirt to his chin, catching it between his teeth. His whole chest is on display, his olive abs flexing as he pulls down the front of his sweats, tucking the elastic waist under his balls. His hand circles his cock, so thick his fingers barely meet.

And now they’re both just… bare. Basically naked as they jerk off next to each other, hands still intertwined like they’re some sort of couple. Things go quiet for a few moments as they just watch each other. How their hands work against themselves, speeding up, slowing, twitching.

Eddie’s cum gets sticky on his hand, against his cock. When he pulls his fingers away from his body it feels a bit like glue, tacking his hand up so much that it’s hard to slide it over his length.

“Spit on it,” Steve whispers, like he knows exactly what Eddie is thinking.

Eddie nods, bringing his hand up to his mouth—

“Wait.” Steve unlaces his fingers from Eddie’s, grabs his wrist. “Can I?”

“Shit.” Eddie huffs a breath through his nose. “Sure, Harrington.”

Steve lets a long string of saliva fall from his pretty, pink lips. It wets Eddie’s palm, mixing with the cum that covers it, making it slippery instead of sticky. Instead of letting go, though, Steve brings Eddie’s hand down to his own lap.

“Wanna switch?”

And—holy fucking fuck. Eddie trembles with ill-contained delight. He doesn’t even reply, just wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock before he can even think about what’s happening. What it means. That it’s changing the dynamic—they’re getting involved with each other instead of just themselves.

It doesn’t even matter. Not right now.

Steve’s head falls back against the cushions. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”

Eddie slides his fingers up Steve’s shaft—so heavy and hot in his hand—just as Steve described he liked. Soft and gentle. He twists his wrist in the same way Steve touched himself, watches as his lips part and his brows crinkle together, marvels at the vision of Steve’s cockhead surging from his grip, so flushed against the paleness of his hand and the silver of his rings.

He squeezes a bit harder and watches Steve’s hips rut towards him.

“You look so good,” he tells Steve, voice getting lost behind the moans that Steve keeps loosing from his lungs.

“Eddie?” Steve pants, thighs twitching as Eddie dares to circle his thumb around Steve’s slit, gathering more wetness to join the rest.

“Hmm?”

“Were you serious earlier?” Steve asks, barely a whisper. “About wanting to suck me off?”

Eddie’s hand stills on Steve, his eyes shining wide with shock and want. “Yeah? I mean—yeah. Very serious.”

“…Would you?”

Steve doesn’t have to say anything else. Eddie is already sliding onto the floor, already grabbing Steve’s knees and spreading them apart so he can slot himself between them. As soon as he’s bracketed by those strong thighs, they clamp down against his waist. A powerhouse of muscle, locking him to where he kneels.

Eddie is slightly intimidated by Steve’s cock. Will he have to unhinge his jaw like some sort of python to fit it in his mouth?

He leans down and kitten licks the tip, testing how it might feel on his tongue. Steve’s body jolts from that alone, makes a little whimpering noise that makes Eddie’s dick dribble onto the carpet.

“That’s it,” Steve encourages as Eddie’s lips close around the crown of his cock. “That’s perfect. Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. It’s all I think about.”

Eddie moans, opens his jaw wider, and then sinks forward. Steve’s cock glides against Eddie’s tongue. It tastes like hot, sweaty skin. And cum—whether it’s Eddie’s from his hand, or Steve’s pre, it’s salty and heady and makes Eddie’s mouth even more wet as he salivates.

“Fuuuuck.” Steve’s fingers bury themselves in Eddie’s curls, tugging him closer.

It’s different than his fantasies. Steve doesn’t smell like honey and almond soap, and Eddie’s nose most definitely cannot reach Steve’s pubes, even as the tip of his dick brushes against the back of his throat. But the dark curls at the base are exactly as Eddie pictured. Perfectly trimmed and up-kept, as nicely as the hair on Steve’s head.

Eddie can’t help but pull off Steve to trail his tongue all the way down his shaft. He noses along Steve’s inner thigh, shamelessly burying his face in that thick thatch of chestnut hair. And then he deeply inhales the musky scent of Steve.

Steve groans, shallowly thrusting against Eddie’s cheek, the tip of his cock grazing Eddie’s ear, getting lost in his mane of hair.

A rope of drool connects Steve to Eddie, his tongue lolling from his mouth to rub against the side of Steve’s balls as he drinks in his smell. He dips his chin lower, until Steve’s dick is standing straight up, resting against his forehead.

The noise Steve makes is fucking sinful—completely wanton—as Eddie shoves his nose into Steve’s balls and breathes him in, committing everything to memory. His scent, his taste, his sounds, his face—everything.

Eddie isn’t sure if this will happen ever again. Isn’t sure if it’ll even be acknowledged. So he’s going to enjoy every goddamn minute while he’s so up close and personal with Steve’s cock.

“Ah—Jesus Christ. You are a freak, Munson.” Normally, those words might hurt. But Steve says them with such lust that it can’t possible be construed as anything but a compliment. Eddie wraps his hand back around Steve’s cock and starts pumping him with purpose, sucking his balls into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. The wet, slurping sounds are totally lewd in the quiet air of the trailer. “Shit. Ohhh—shit. I’m close. I’m about to come.”

Eddie hums in encouragement, keeps his lips sealed around Steve’s balls. His hand flies above his face until he can feel how tight Steve’s balls get, can feel his cock pulsing in his hand.

He pops off, rests Steve’s cockhead onto his tongue, and jerks him off fast and dirty.

“Eddie—Eddie!” Steve’s thighs tense around Eddie’s middle. Cum surges from his slit into the back of Eddie’s throat in thick rivers, coating his tongue and teeth in sticky white release that he happily swallows down.

Fuck, Steve tastes good. Feels good. Sounds even better as he comes with Eddie’s name falling from his lips. Eddie closes his eyes and revels in the moment, lets himself savour the twitch of Steve’s dick as it empties into his mouth, the intrusion as he thrusts into Eddie’s throat, and the threat of himself gagging against it. He keeps swirling his tongue, even as Steve’s cum stops spurting. Even as his noises become high, and his body starts seizing with each flick against his sensitive tip.

Eddie desperately wants to make the moment last forever, doesn’t want to acknowledge that Steve is basically crying from overstimulation above him.

Finally, the fingers in Eddie’s hair tug him away. He whines at the sudden emptiness, wants to lean back in and feel Steve’s cock soften completely inside of his mouth.

Steve’s eyes are still blown and lustful, and strangely soft, as he says, “That was so fucking good.”

He smiles and gives Steve’s knees a squeeze as he leans back, his own shaking under his weight as he hauls himself back up onto the couch. He feels a little weird now that Steve came, because Eddie is still hard. Still wanting. But he also came once himself. Not from Steve’s hands but from his words, and it was enough. Maybe he should just tuck himself away and let this thing end naturally—

Before he can make a decision, Steve is reaching towards Eddie’s lap. “Is this okay?” he asks as he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock.

Eddie lets his gaze fall between his legs. His dick gets swallowed up by Steve’s big hands. He likes the way it looks so red as it peeks out from his fist.

“Is that a real question?” Eddie’s hands flounder in the air before they land on the couch cushions and bury themselves there, his nails digging into the upholstery as Steve starts fucking him with his hand.

“I knew you’d be good,” Steve says lowly. “Knew your hands and your lips would feel incredible. I can’t believe how hard you made me come. I wanna make you come like that.”

Eddie’s jaw swings open and his eyebrows knit together, and he thinks to himself that it’s not going to take long at all for Steve to get what he wants.

Steve leans forward, and for a second Eddie thinks he’s going to put his mouth on him, but he just lets a string of spit fall onto the tip of Eddie’s cock and gathers it with his hand, spreading it along his skin that moves in tandem with his strokes. It’s almost as good.

“Oh, Jesus—Steve.” Eddie sucks in a breath as Steve’s fingers tighten, forcing a bead of precum from his slit. “I’m gonna come again. Keep doing that. Keep—keep doing that!”

Steve nods, watching as he works Eddie back to the edge. Watching as he expertly rubs his thumb against the spot that makes Eddie see stars.

His second orgasm is stronger than his first. Eddie’s vision blurs out of focus—probably because his eyes are crossing—and the noise he makes sounds like an animal getting fucking murdered. The muscles in his torso tighten and tense and shudder as Steve enthusiastically jerks his dick, cum gathering in his fist, eyes watching with rapt attention.

Eddie’s body goes limp as Steve slowly lets go of him. When he’s able to focus his eyes, he notices that Steve is looking at his hand in fascination, watching Eddie’s cum stretch between his fingers as he scissors them.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever done that,” he says, bringing his wet hand up to his face. Steve smells his fingers, and then decides to bring them to his spit-slicked lips. One of his fingers pop into his mouth, and he hums around it, as if he’s actually enjoying the taste of Eddie’s release.

Yep. Eddie could definitely, without a doubt, go a third round.

But before his dick does something stupid like get stiff again, he tucks himself away. “And? What did you think?”

Steve pulls his finger from his mouth, grabbing an old napkin from the coffee table to wipe the rest of Eddie’s spend from them. “I think I was wrong.”

Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest, waiting for Steve to start berating him or something for making him do something gay. Even though he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the one who initiated it.

But Steve just smiles and cocks his head to one side. “You definitely aren’t bad at dirty talk.”

A sigh of relief heaves from Eddie’s chest. He smacks Steve’s shoulder, but he smiles right along. “You’re a prick.”

As he stands to grab a towel from the bathroom, Steve calls behind him, “You seemed to like my prick.”

Eddie blushes ferociously. He catches his expression in the mirror and tries to wipe it away, but it’s impossible. He’s just bound to look like a totally fucked-out dipshit for the rest of his life, he guesses. As soon as the water runs warm, Eddie washes his hands and wets two towels. He cleans off his dick and his sticky thighs, and brings the second one to the gorgeous man who’s back to lounging on his living room couch.

“Did you?” Steve asks, taking the towel to better clean his fingers. When he shoves it down the front of his pants, Eddie adverts his eyes.

“Did I what?”

“Enjoy it?”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “Yes, Steve, I enjoyed it. Fuck.”

“Good.”

Eddie sits next to Steve and tries not to let himself feel awkward. “Yeah. Good.”

“Want to watch Labyrinth now?” Steve casually digs into the bag he brought, grabs the VHS and wiggles it in front of Eddie’s face.

“Absolutely,” says Eddie.

They pop in the tape, and the TV screen glows blue before it starts playing through the ads. Steve sits next to Eddie, their thighs pressed up against each other, just like they had been before.

Steve reaches over and laces his fingers with Eddie’s. They stay like that for the whole movie.

_____

It’s been three days since Steve left. Since Eddie has even heard from him. Keith makes sure they don’t have many shifts together at Family Video (because they never got any work done), so it’s not uncommon that they go this long. But Eddie’s anxiety makes it feel like it’s the end of the fucking world.

God forbid he reach out to Steve himself.

But by the end of the third night, he gets a phone call.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Hey, man.” Steve is on the other line, sounding chipper and unphased.

Maybe Eddie was overthinking it.

“Oh, hey!” he says, a little bit too enthusiastically. He dials it back a bit, clears his throat. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Just got off work. I have the afternoon off.”

“Sweet.” Eddie nervously twirls the chords between his fingers. Time to be brave. “Do you—maybe—want to hang out then?”

“Yeah. That’s why I called, actually. I stole Psycho III from Family Video. Want me to bring it over?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. Things aren’t changing. Steve won’t estrange himself after what happened, because he’s a good person. Eddie doesn’t even know why he was worried in the first place.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

A few ticks go by, and then Steve quietly asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just wondering…”

Eddie waits, the suspense nearly killing him. “Wondering what, Steve?”

“…What are you wearing?”

MASTERLIST

SOCIALS

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years

Text

Teaching Luffy How to Kiss (SFW)

Black Fem Reader

CW: Luffy being Luffy and Different kinds of Kissing really

You honestly had no clue of Luffy’s sexual past or if he even had one when you first joined the strawhats. You’ve all had sprinkled a little bit of each other’s once in a while when drinking and having little pow wow’s, but Luffy was never interested in talking about it. He was more focused on two things:

His goal.

And meat.

Somehow him being so carefree and not really caring of things like being in a relationship or doing anything intimate was attractive to you. Which sucked. You were growing an attraction to a man who shows none to anybody. But today surprised you.

You were cleaning the aquarium when Luffy came running in hollering your name,

“HEY Y/N!!! Robin wanted me to give you this book!” He giggled waving the small thing around.

“Oh thank you. I’ll be reading that later.”

“What is it about?”

You kind of side eye’d you captain for a moment, since when was he interested in books?

“Um…it’s just a stupid little romance book about a guy who’s afraid of getting with the girl he likes because he can’t kiss.”

Luffy laughed at the horrible description, “What?! That’s so stupid—“

“I know…”

“So what if he can’t kiss she should get with him!”

His slight interest in your book worried you a bit, however you have thought about asking Luffy questions similar to the topic at hand just to get an understanding of him.

…and because you have a fucking crush on the guy.

“Would you get with a girl that kissed badly, Captain?”

Luffy shrugged leaning on the wall beside you putting his arms behind his back, “I mean how can you kiss badly? I’ve seen people do it isn’t it just smashing your faces together?”

You hummed bending over slightly to wipe the glass window, “Have you ever kissed somebody , Luffy?”

“No…should I? Will it help me become a pirate king or something?”

You laughed at his curiosity, he had a tint of sarcasm behind it, but you were happy to hear some truth behind what he said, “No, but there’s nothing wrong with kissing someone…well not anybody moreso someone you like.”

“Have you kissed someone?” He walked over to you to look at your face.

“Yeah, I have kissed people before—-.”

“Did you like it?”

His quick response made you turn your head at him, and it made you feel a bit warm not realizing how close he was, his eyes were not on yours, but on your lips. You cleared your throat before sitting down on the seat to answer him.

“I liked a few…but some weren’t…so great…why did you want me to teach you?”

You were clearly joking with your last question and expecting a typical laugh and no from Luffy, but instead he did a faint chuckle with you and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” He smiled wide, “Teach me! I bet I can be way better than the last guys you kissed!”

You pause for a moment, almost scruntching your face at the man in disbelief, and you thought he was kidding until he put down his hat and faced you criss cross apple sauce with excitement in his eyes.

You looked around a moment making sure you couldn’t hear or see anybody approach but Luffy grabbed your cheeks and pulled you towards his face.

“Stop worrying if someone comes in just teach me!”

“But don’t you want to kiss someone you like?” You mumbled seeing as Luffy enjoyed squishing your cheeks together

“I do like you! I like you a lot ! You’re the only girl I’d kiss, stupid!” He did his typical snicker which made you swallow hard, really? How the hell were you supposed to know he liked you he showed no affection towards you ever?

“Okay…” You moved back and sat in front of Luffy, “You have to stop smiling, first.”

“Hahaha i cant you look so cute nervous it’s funny!”

“I’m not nervous!” You pouted making him squeeze your cheeks again. “You’re annoying.”

“But you like me thoughhhhhhhh.”

“N-no I don’t!”

“Yes you do you look at me the same way Sanji looks at women and you blush a lot when I talk to you!”

“I’m brown I can’t blush!”

“So?! Your cheeks still change color!”

You grumbled in his warm palms, but looked back at him still smiling, you push back and you cup his cheeks.

“You better not burp in my mouth.” You pout.

“No promises!”

You sigh and lean into his face, you closed your eyes and Luffy noticed this and stopped smiling, instead he got nervous, you smelled really good and clean and your lipgloss was so shiny! You planted your supple lips on his slightly dry ones and stayed there for a second. Luffy placed his hand on yours and kept his eyes open the whole time. You were a really good kisser in his mind.

“Why we’re your eyes open?!” You pull back noticing him stare back at you blankly.

“I’m supposed to close my eyes too?!”

“YES?! You look like a weirdo staring at me it’s like sneezing with your eyes open!”

“Oh I can do that too.”

“Good Lord..”

Luffy bounced up and down licking his lips, “Your lips taste like…chocolate.”

“Boy…”

“No seriously! It’s very sweet. But you Gatta do it again you didn’t move.”

“Wha—“

“See look like this—“

Luffy Grabs the back of your head and kisses you but with way more force. He grabs your thigh under your skirt, squeezing it making you open your eyes in shock, he sees your eyes open and uses his now free hand to close your lids with his fingers, his kiss was very sloppy and it felt like he wanted to eat you but it wasn’t until he slid his tongue in your mouth you had to grab onto his muscular arm.

“See!” A String of spit was disconnected from your both when Luffy wiped his mouth with the back of his palm. “That’s how you kiss!”

You were speechless. This man really had no filter, “Wh-where did you learn to kiss with tongue!?”

“I don’t know I’ve seen it once back in Dressrosa.”

You sat back in the cushioned seat but Luffy wasn’t finished he liked tasting you and he wanted more. And whatever the caption wants he gets.

He grabs your waist and plops you on his lap pulling you down to kiss you again, but you grab his chest.

“Wait wait what are you doing?!”

“I like you. I like Kissing. Let’s keep kissing, you still have to teach me more! Like…what’s that thing where the girl sticks her tongue out and the guy su—-“

“LET’S TRY ONE THING AT A TIME, LU!” You cover his mouth but he laughs and moves your hand down.

“Okay! Now kiss me again!”

You peck his lips and pull back quickly.

“Mmhm. Again.” Now he started puckering his lips in anticipation and it was literally so cute you cupped his squishy cheeks and gave him a real kiss.

Luffy was a pretty fast learner, his kisses were still a bit wetter than it should be but his lips became soft due to him practically stealing your lip gloss from your own lips, but it felt good.

“H-hey!” You squealed feeling his hand squeeze your bottom “You getting a bit frisky now! Where did you learn that?!”

Luffy Just shrugs and says in a deadpanned expression,

“I seen a lot of stuff in Dressrosa.”

#one piece #TimikosLuffy #one piece headcanons #black reader #one piece x female reader #luffy x reader #luffy headcanons #luffy fluff #one piece fluff #luffy #mugiwara no luffy #op luffy #luffy imagine #luffy scenarios

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rosaline-black · 1 year

Text

̲R̲̲o̲̲m̲a̲̲n̲̲t̲̲i̲̲c̲̲i̲̲s̲̲e̲ ̲t̲̲h̲̲i̲̲s̲

Summary: you’ve gone through life living vicariously through the characters in the novels you so regularly read. But when a rambunctious curly-haired dungeon master decides to insert himself in your day, maybe you’re forced to tare your eyes from the page.

Category: Eddie Munson X Fem!reader

Warnings: very very mild sexual references. Swearing. Kinda angst but not really. Just intensely fluffy tbh. Minors dni.

You romanticised everything. Whether it was walking home with the rain pouring down and pretending you were in some crappy rom-com or listening to music while you sat in the library, everything had to be romanticised. Your theory as to why was quite simple, romance had never come easy to you. Nobody had ever asked you out, nobody had ever as much as flirted with you before. Your love life was, and had always been stagnant.

So, when a rambunctious metalhead was leaning against your locker, twiddling his hair between his long lean fingers like a schoolgirl in love, you stopped in your tracks. Maybe he was high and thought your locker was his? That made the most sense logically.

With hesitant steps, you simply walked to him, eyes already wide at this bizarre scenario. Slipping off your headphones and clearing your throat, the boy in question jumped in his spot before chocolate brown eyes were staring at you. He had those classic glowing doe eyes that could be mistaken for street lamps in certain lighting. Eddie Munson was just so pretty. Prettier than you had ever realised. The more you stared wordlessly the more you began to romanticise this meet-cute. That was until he finally spoke, and you were reminded that romance movies were not real life (and usually written by women).

"Can I help you?" His words were colder than you had expected. Could you help him? The nerve of this boy to question you when he was the one standing before your locker.

"Well, you're blocking my locker..." Unfortunately, the words didn't come out as strong as you had hoped, you should have limbered up your throat before speaking. Now you probably came across as some random scared girl who was afraid of the big bad freak at Hawkins High. In reality, you were scared of pretty much anybody.

The guy in question's eyes softened at your voice. He looked almost apologetic. Your heart fell into your throat at his next action. With a flourish of his arm, Eddie twirled nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, trying to make a big drama out of moving from your locker to the next. Instead of acknowledging this you simply put in the combo and grabbed what you needed, basically hiding your face in your locker out of embarrassment.

It's not that you were ashamed to be seen with Hawkins's resident king of freaks, you just didn't enjoy the attention he warranted. Since starting high school, you had done everything in your power to remain as forgettable as possible. You only had one real friend, Robin the band girl, who had the same strategy you did. Survive. Get in, get out with no trace. Then you could live your real life once running away from this shitty town.

"Ignoring me won't work..."

His voice was like a song, and you screwed your eyes shut once more. You were sort of using that child-like defence. If I can't see him he can't see me. Annoyingly he was right though, ignoring him was futile. You'd provoked him, proved that his company wasn't something you craved, and now he would do anything to hold your attention. Slamming your locker shut you turned to him, crossing your arms across you like a form of protection, a coat of arms if you will.

"What do you want Eddie?"

"Ah, nothing princess... just bored you see..."

That love-obsessed sado within sighed once again. Obviously, he didn't seek you out for any particular reason. This wasn't a romantic gesture or a sign of fondness, he was just bored. They were always just bored. You didn't stop to talk any longer, turning on your heel and walking as fast as possible down the hall. Your headphones went back on, and new order pumped around your body. Your steps grew faster with every fast beat, completely missing the body who was following behind you like it was their only mission.

Eddie had spotted you months ago, although you probably didn't remember your interaction. It was menial at best, you dropped your cassette, and he picked it up and passed it to you. That was all. Yet you didn't leave his mind. The scared animal look you had going on drew him in. Not because he thought it was entertaining but more intriguing. Why did you hide from everyone? Never present, just keeping your head low, letting the music be your distraction from everyone and everything.

For whatever reason, you hadn't left his mind over the past couple of weeks, and after many lunch times spent bumbling about you to the other hellfire members, Dustin snapped and ordered him to just go speak to you. Maybe he hadn't realised it yet, but it was pretty obvious to everybody else that he was harbouring a crush on you.

So, when the interaction started with you looking around shamefully, almost fearful of his presence in itself, his guard went up just like your own. Stupid was the only word he could think to describe himself right now. In a fit of desperation, Eddie reached for your shoulder, tapping it lightly which caused you to trip, landing on your knees.

His chocolate eyes widened and as you slipped off your headphones he could practically feel the humiliation. A few kids were laughing to themselves, pointing at the girl who had just stacked it. When you turned around your eyes were filled with fury, in all honesty, Eddie was frightened (and a tad turned on).

What annoyed Eddie even more, was that you didn't shout at him, call him out on his admittedly dumb behaviour, no, you simply walked the other way towards the school exit. The attention seeker couldn't take it.

This was exactly why you were the way you were. Those leaches that joined any bandwagon they could to make themselves feel better laughed at you. In theory, nobody would care in an hour, but you would. Your over-obsessive brain would replay the cringeworthy moment over and over until you wanted to puke. As you fell asleep that night you were betting on the fact that your heart would plummet and your toes would curl just at the memory of your embarrassing blunder.

What was worse was that damn pretty metalhead had been the cause of your humiliation. He had sauntered after you and caught you off guard, again. What pissed you off even more was you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him. His wide terrified eyes told you all you needed to know about his intentions, and really that's all that mattered.

Coming to a stop in the middle of the woods behind campus, you stumbled across a bench that you could rest at. Screw the rest of the day, biology could miss you for just one period. Taking off your blaring headphones, you let your head rest in your palms for a moment, just taking in the sounds of the wind blowing the trees, the scurrying of squirrels and the approaching footsteps-

Wait, footsteps?

"I come in peace I promise..."

Eddie freaking Munson.

Raising your head to look up at the voice, you couldn't help but frown. Was he here to mock you? Were your presumptions wrong about his guilty expression?

"Can't you just leave me alone? Can't you bother someone else with your boredom?"

You rarely spat venom like that, but the built-up stress and anxiety spilt over. You regretted the minute he pulled his pink bottom lip between his teeth like a scolded schoolboy.

"I just wanted to apologise... I think we got off on the wrong foot..."

His eyes were dripping with longing. You almost felt guilty, even though you hadn't done anything wrong. And to be fair to the puppy dog-eyed dude before you, he hadn't done much wrong either, well not on purpose anyway.

"Fine... I accept your apology... can I just listen to this in peace please?" You gestured to your Walkman and instead of leaving Eddie took tempered steps even closer.

"Uh... what are you listening to?"

He looked cute when he was nervous. Did you make him nervous? I mean you were probably the most calm person from day to day, the fact that you made him nervous was quite perplexing. Finally thinking over his question you sighed and pulled out your mixtape, sliding it to him. All of the songs were listed on the side and as Eddie wrapped his long ringed fingers around it, you had to force yourself not the choke on the air. Get it together.

"Woah... some real obscure shit on here... impressive..."

He seemed genuinely happy with your selection and it made your heart grow hotter, well your entire body for that matter. It's not that you sought out his approval or anything, it's just the smile that had formed on his face was something you wanted to stare at over and over.

"Thanks... uh... I might head home now..."

Just like always, the minute something felt nice or out of the ordinary, you ran. With a brief wave, you left Eddie Munson staring at the place you had just been sat.

The following week nothing much changed for either of you. Eddie had made no effort to seek you out again which was relieving but also... disappointing?

That night when you went home your embarrassment had been fought by the aching in your chest. The kind of longing you'd feel diving into a shitty romance novel you'd gotten for a dollar at the thrift store. Shamefully the difference this time was the man in your head wasn't some six-foot-seven muscled Casanova but a lanky tatted dork.

His hand caressed her inner thigh as his large brown eyes met her own and-

NOPE. No no no. You wouldn't allow yourself to turn whatever the hell that arbitrary hour was into some sick romantic fantasy just because you were lonely. Though maybe you didn't have a choice? Since every time your eyes would read the page your brain would shift the words to fit the description of the dungeon master walking towards you.

Walking towards you?

Shit.

"Hi sorry... hi... uh are you busy?" His palm collided with his forehead like he had said something obscene "Sorry of course you are you're reading... I'll leave you to it..."

The fact that the boy, before you seemed so apologetic for merely speaking with you, put your heart in a vice shaped like his ring-clad hands. It was clear he was as used to being thrown aside like you. Always conditioned to believe he was an inconvenience, too much or not enough. No matter how terrified he made you, no way could you allow yourself to make him feel that way.

"Stop... no I'm not busy... the books shit anyway..."

Pivoting on the ball of his foot, Eddie was now face to face with you. Two pairs of eyes locked in the middle of the library.

"I just wanted to say hi again... and uh I was wondering if you were busy later? They're doing a reshowing of the breakfast club tonight at the movies and well... shit I don't know if you wanted to go... with me?"

If you were to compare yourself to any creature at any point in your life, a goldfish wouldn't have come to mind straight away. Your memory was pretty swell. However, the way your mouth opened and then closed... and then opened again contradicted the fact. You were a fucking goldfish.

"If not it's totally cool... you probably already have like plans or something so no worries-"

"I love the breakfast club..."

Finally, words formed. Dumb words. Very very stupidly obvious words. But words nonetheless.

"I know..."

He knows?

"You... know?"

The nerves on his countenance began to morph into a darling shyness. The big bad Wolf of Hawkins High was certainly more a red riding hood type, his cheeks matched her hood perfectly.

"Well, I heard... well asked Buckley what kinda movies you liked and uh... she said that... I coulda guessed honestly simple minds were on your mixtape... and uh you got the whole pre-makeover Alison look going for ya which is sick by the way..."

Maybe you were both red riding hood. Your face is set alight and it was only then did the romance novels and the unrealistic tropes fly from your mind. Not only had this delightfully odd creature before you ask you out, but he'd gone to the effort to ask about you. Not just ask about you, but know you. Know you enough to ask you out to your favourite fucking movie.

Clearing your throat, and finding the courage to rise from the safe zone of the library desk chair, you let yourself warm into a grateful smile.

"Im free tonight... and I'd be happy to watch the breakfast club for the eighth time with you..."

"Only the eighth time? Well sweetheart my chariot can pick you up at seven..."

The shyness melted into that same bravado you assumed he exuded during D&D campaigns.

"Well good sir I look forward to it"

Your dorkiness matched his. And in that moment Eddie Munson decided that his favourite princess was not Leia. But you.

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie x reader #rosaline black

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estrellami-1 · 11 months

Note

Writer prompt: Steve finding out about Murray getting Joncy together & rips into him for helping their relationship to end the way it did. Nancy & Jonathan realizing that their behavior was not only not acceptable but also cruel (esp Jon for taking the photos)

Hello my friend! I actually had part of this already written and I was trying to see if I was ever actually going to post it… and then you sent this prompt which actually (mostly) works! This focuses more on Steve ripping Murray a new one so I hope this is close enough to what you want! ❤️

They’re having dinner. It’s a once-a-week thing Joyce had decided on, back when everyone was still healing, when they all needed the reminder that they made it out. Maybe not unscathed, but they’re out.

It’s during one such dinner she invited Murray to. She’d leaned over to everyone else, whispering, “I asked him to be on his best behavior.”

Steve doesn’t know how they end up here. How they end up with Murray essentially patting himself on the back for getting Nancy and Jonathan together, then just as suddenly turning to Steve and Eddie with a wicked glint in his eye.

He’s talking, and Steve’s getting mad. He doesn’t care what wild theories Murray comes up with for him. But he’s targeting someone who’s clearly uncomfortable with the attention.

Eddie’s withdrawing. His hands are in his lap, his head’s bowed, his shoulders are hunched.

Steve is livid.

“That’s enough,” Steve says suddenly.

Murray pretends he doesn’t hear. “Of course, it’s not like any of you’d care about that,” he says, gaze lingering first on Robin, then Will.

Steve stands and slams his hands on the table. “That’s enough,” he says again, louder. He’s shaking. Eddie won’t look at him. He can’t feel his face, doesn’t know what expression he’s making, but he’s so, so angry. “Did it ever occur to you that the couple you were oh-so-happy to finally get together meant she cheated on me? Did it ever occur to you that you only knew one side of the story? That I was fucking sixteen years old and a girl died in my pool. I was sixteen and trying to contend with the fact that I was living in a goddamn haunted house. And I’m sorry I wasn’t enough,” he tells Nancy. “I tried, though. If you don’t believe a single thing I say, believe that. I tried.” He sighs, shakes his head, looks down at the table for a second before settling his gaze back on Murray. “Did it ever occur to you that people should get to make their own goddamned decisions? Regardless of someone’s sexuality, pushing people together is never okay. Regarding their sexuality, you don’t get to take that choice away from them. Regardless of who’d be okay with it. That is their choice and you stripped a basic human right away from them.” He leans over, looks Murray right in his eye. “I used to be like you. I used to think I had to be perfect, had to know everything, everyone. Had to have all the answers. But what happens when you don’t? What happens when you don’t know, Murray? What does that make you?” He pauses for a second; just enough time for Murray to open his mouth. “Human,” he continues. Murray’s mouth closes again. “It makes you fucking human. So let us be human, too. Just shut your goddamned mouth for once in your life before I do it for you. Permanently.” He narrows his eyes at Murray. “I took on a Demogorgon with a bat. I took on a Russian soldier with nothing. I’ve been to the Upside Down and back. Don’t fucking test me.”

The silence is palpable.

“Well,” Murray says finally. “Lovely meal as always, Joyce-”

“Just leave,” she says, quietly, but no less severely. He pauses, then nods and leaves.

The silence is unbearable.

Steve’s chair is loud as he scoots it back. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, making his way around the table to get to the stairs. “I’m not hungry.”

He doesn’t look up at anyone. He doesn’t see Robin, teary-eyed and proud. He doesn’t see Eddie, shell-shocked. He doesn’t see Nancy, crying.

He doesn’t see Will, terrified and grateful.

He sees his shoes as he walks up the stairs, making his way into one of the first rooms he finds. Thinks it’s Will’s, based on the decorations.

He numbly makes his way to the bed and slides down to sit on the floor, back against the comforter. He buries his head in his hands and tries to remember how to breathe.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he hears careful footsteps. He knows he’s visible from the hallway. He can’t bring himself to care.

The footsteps enter the room he’s in. “Stevie?” Eddie asks cautiously. “Are you okay?”

Steve sniffs, even though his eyes are dry as ever. “Ask me again when I stop shaking,” he murmurs, giving an absent smile at Eddie’s huff of laughter.

“Mind if I sit?”

Steve lifts his head, looks at Eddie. He’s got his head cocked hopefully, glancing at the ground by Steve. Steve pats it, and Eddie’s smile grows. “Joyce is officially my favorite of the moms. And the scariest. She laid into Jonathan and Nancy. But, uh. I think everyone else is okay.”

There’s enough emphasis there to make Steve pause. He knows about Will, then.

He’s brought back to the present when Eddie sighs. “Y’know, that guy’s a real dick. Like, an absolute, grade-A douchebag. But, uh. He’s not wrong. About me.”

Steve glances at him. Watches him playing with his fingers. “Yeah?” Steve asks, almost not recognizing the hopeful tone in his voice. Eddie looks over, and Steve smiles. “Me too.”

Eddie moves a hand, tentatively intertwines it with one of Steve’s. Steve squeezes back. “I can’t- my brain, it’s too-” he waves a hand around his head- “to do anything else. But. This is good.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, squeezes back.

A few minutes later Will pokes his head in. “Steve? Eddie?”

Steve turns a tired smile on Will. “Hey.”

Will blinks. “Um. Hey. Can I come in?” Steve pointedly looks around. Will snorts and walks in, settles criss-cross on the floor in front of them. “I, uh. Wanted to thank you, Steve. For. Um.” His breath hitches. “Just. I know nobody would care? But it’s. I feel like it would be a big deal. But anyways I care, and I’m just. Really grateful.” His breath hitches again, and a teardrop hits his hands where they’re clasped in his lap.

“Oh, Will,” Steve murmurs, squeezing Eddie’s hand once before dropping it and holding both arms out to Will.

Will crawls forward and collapses into Steve. “That was really scary,” he murmurs. Steve hums in agreement.

Suddenly Will looks up. “Are you okay? He- he just told everyone, and we don’t even know if it’s true or not, and then you- you completely shut him down, which was awesome, and you’re kinda my hero, but- are you okay?”

“I’ll be alright,” Steve promises, looking over at Eddie, asking wordlessly. Eddie nods. “He was right. About both of us. And all of that. Honestly, my comfort was the last thing on my mind downstairs. I know the words people use. Hell, I know the words I used, before your brother knocked some sense into me.” He widens his eyes exaggeratedly at Will, who giggles. “And I just thought… it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. Words can hurt, and I’m done with people I love being hurt. Especially when I can stop it. So… I did.”

“You did,” Eddie agrees, beginning to giggle. “You threatened him, Stevie. That was fucking metal.”

Steve laughs then, squeezes Will tighter to him and leans over to rest against Eddie, content. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Will agrees. “You’re okay, though?”

“I’m alright,” Steve promises him.

Will turns to Eddie. “Are you okay?”

Eddie smiles, ruffles Will’s hair. “I’m alright, Baby Byers. How’re you holding up?”

Will thinks, then nods. “I’m okay,” he says. “Um. Jon and Nancy are at the Wheelers’. Everyone else is still downstairs. Are you-”

“In a minute,” Steve answers wryly. “I’m still shaking.”

Will snorts, tucking his head into Steve’s chest. “I think I’ve been shaking ever since he looked at me.”

“It’s the eyes, right?” Eddie asks. “Like they’re looking into your very soul.”

“Yeah,” Will laughs. “They’re unsettling.”

Steve sighs, lets go of Will with one hand, lets it fall onto Eddie’s. He squeezes briefly, smiling when Eddie twines their fingers together.

Will watches silently. “Were you together before he said anything?”

“No,” Eddie admits. “But I don’t think it would’ve taken much longer. We were already most of the way there.”

Will nods. “And I guess I don’t have to ask if you know about me.”

“Why don’t you tell us?” Eddie gently suggests. “He hasn’t taken that choice away from you yet.”

Will nods, takes a breath. Whispers. “I’m gay.”

“Same,” Eddie grins, offering a high-five. Will looks at him, surprised, before clapping their hands together.

They both turn to Steve, who chuckles. “I’m bisexual. I like both.”

Eddie’s grin widens. “Like Bowie.”

Steve snorts. “That’s exactly what Robin said.”

Eddie waggles his brows. “Great minds, and all that jazz.”

Will and Steve both chuckle at that. Will leans back, and Steve lets him go. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “For what you said, earlier. And for just now. Um. I’m okay. And Mom bought ice cream and that sounds really good right now.”

Eddie snorts. “Go on,” he says. “We’ll be right down.”

Will smiles and walks out, and Eddie turns back to Steve. “Okay?”

“How many times are people gonna ask me that,” Steve faux-grumbles, leaning further into Eddie. He sighs. “I really think the best answer I can give is I’ll be okay. I really wasn’t thinking about myself at all.”

Eddie hums. “What were you thinking about?”

Steve huffs out a semblance of a laugh. “Honestly? You. You’d shut down, you were staring at the table, your shoulders were curled in, you wouldn’t look at me… and then he looked at Robin, and Will, and I just saw red. Like I said, I’m done with the ones I love being hurt. It’s- it was never about me. Not this.”

Eddie tilts his head. “It kinda is, though? It was about us, and you’re a part of us, Stevie.”

“Well,” Steve says, then sighs and gives up, tucking his head onto Eddie’s shoulder. “You said Joyce laid into Nance and Jon?”

“Mhm. Terrifying, I tell you. Like that mom look, y’know? But even worse because she’s been through all this shit and knows all your secrets.”

Steve snorts. “How’d they take it?”

“Nancy was crying before Joyce started. I don’t think Jonathan did at all, but who knows what happened once they left.”

“Crying?”

“Mhm. I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes around the next few days, looking to apologize.”

Steve snorts. “That’ll be the day.”

“I might hang around the next few days. I’d like to see it.”

“I want you to hang around.”

Eddie smiles down at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Anything more than this, tonight, I think wouldn’t be a good idea. But you could come over? We could sleep? Talk in the morning?”

“Sounds perfect,” Eddie says warmly. “But first, ice cream?”

Steve chuckles. “But first, ice cream,” he agrees, and together they walk downstairs.

So as I said I had (part of) this done before (the last hundred words or so I just added to help tie it all together), so it doesn’t end as nicely as I’d like. I think Nancy and Jonathan absolutely need to apologize, yes, but I also felt it was important for Steve to say that, to stick up for his friends, and to apologize to Nancy, even if he didn’t need to; it just felt very in-character, like he thinks everything’s his fault, so he’d apologize; but he’s also very loyal and protective, so Mama Bear Steve came out the second Murray looked at Eddie, Robin and Will. Eddie and Steve and Will for the win, I LOVE the dynamic we’ve cooked up for them (because the producers are too chickenshit to let them bond the way they absolutely would), and off-screen Robin and Steve have another bathroom moment with her ripping him a new one in the way of “you need to take care of yourself, dingus, we’re fine, thank you for protecting us but Jesus Christ protect yourself for once-” and then absolutely proceeding to smother him in a hug.

Anyway. I hope you liked it!! I may do a part 2 with Nancy and Jon’s apologies but it depends on if writers’ block keeps kicking my ass the way it has been.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #murray bauman #robin buckley #will byers #joyce byers #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #the other kids are there too but they’re supporting characters in this one #(they support Steve. El messes with Murray just enough to make him think he’s losing it)#y’all don’t understand I’ve written the entire fic IN MY HEAD so ik how it ends but getting it on paper???#nahhhh that don’t happen #anyways I hope you enjoy!#asks #requests #prompts #starambles

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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months

Text

i love you enough

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'roadtrip/vacation' rated m wc: 995 cw: nightmare, implied sexual content tags: friends to lovers, getting together, love confessions, first kiss, loosest way to reference vacation is staying in a hotel

------------------------------------

"Steve...Steve!"

His eyes opened wide as Eddie's hands shook him awake.

"Jesus Christ, man. I thought I'd have to push you off the bed," Eddie sighed, his hold on Steve's shoulders loosening but not going away.

"Sorry," Steve gasped, his breath caught in his chest like he was about to have a panic attack.

This nightmare had been different.

Instead of Robin dying under the mall, it was Eddie. Instead of Steve being able to convince the Russians that he should be taken, Eddie convinced them he knew all they needed to know.

It was the exact type of falling on the sword Eddie would do.

Steve's eyes landed on Eddie, who was watching him silently, looking like he was doing his best not to cry.

"Eds? You okay?" Steve's voice cracked.

"Shit, are you?" Eddie asked back, letting out a disbelieving laugh.

"Yeah, sorry I woke you up."

"You're kidding, right?"

Eddie looked mad. He sounded mad.

"No, I'm really sorry. I know you don't sleep so great, either, so," Steve shrugged. "I wouldn't blame you if you wanna go down the hall to the girls' room."

Eddie blinked at him, silence making the air feel thick with an awkwardness they hadn't had between them in months.

And then Eddie's hands were cupping his face, almost lovingly.

"Do you ever think about how other people care about you?" Eddie asked, barely more than a whisper. "Or how seeing you suffer and then apologize for it breaks our hearts?"

Steve's mouth was opening and closing like a fish, searching Eddie's eyes for the answer he wanted.

"You have no idea how much people love you, do you?" Eddie's forehead rested against Steve's.

"I-"

"Stevie. I need you to listen to me." Eddie breathed out slowly. "I can't imagine how much you've seen. I know you've told me, and I've seen some of it myself, but half of the shit you've done? Just to keep everyone safe? And you keep seeing it in nightmares all the time. It never goes away. You're so strong. You get up every day and go to work, and cart the kids around, and bring me to appointments, and cook dinner for me and Wayne, and help Robin with her girl problems, and then you go to bed and have to worry about what monsters will be waiting for you. And then you wake up the next day and pretend it didn't happen, but we all know it did. I know it did."

Steve sniffled.

"And here I am, shaking in the corner of my bed because I think I hear a noise outside my window one time." They both let out a laugh, but Eddie continued before Steve could interrupt. "I was scared. I tried waking you up when you first started making noises. You sounded like you were hurt. And then you said Dustin's name and I could feel you shaking. And then-"

"And then I said your name."

Eddie nodded.

Steve placed his hands at Eddie's neck, almost mirroring Eddie.

"You died. But it was the Russians. You convinced them you knew something to distract them from me and the kids, but you didn't so they just kept...they-" He let out a sob as tears fell down his cheeks. "They did to you what they were gonna do to me."

"Oh, sweetheart."

Eddie's lips were on his.

It shouldn't be happening like this, a part of Steve thought.

It should be romantic and sweet, maybe after a date where Steve used all the charm he's been saving just for Eddie, maybe when the reason for the wetness against their cheeks was because of rain instead of tears.

But in a way, it was always going to be like this: admitting too much at the wrong time, saving each other from pain.

Regardless of all the ways it should be and all the ways he wished for it to be, it was perfect.

When Eddie pulled away, he let out a small laugh.

"Robin said this would happen as soon as I said I was staying in your room."

"She said I would have a nightmare that left us both crying and kissing in a bed that is definitely big enough for us to not be cuddling, but we definitely were?" Steve asked with a smirk. "She's good, but I don't think she's that good."

"Oh, shut up," Eddie lightly smacked his shoulder. "You know what I meant."

He did. She'd said the same to him.

"Well, maybe if you hold my hand, I'll be able to fall back asleep?" Steve suggested.

"Yeah, I could do that. Or..."

"Or?"

"Or I could..."

"You could?"

Eddie nipped his bottom lip.

"I could kiss you in...other places..."

"Eds, just say what you wanna do," Steve giggled.

"Fine! I could suck you off so you can sleep!" Eddie laughed.

"You could do that, yeah," Steve nodded, pretending that wasn't enough to rile him up.

"I could. If you want."

"Is it just to help me fall asleep?" Steve asked, suddenly nervous that this wasn't anything more than helping out a friend.

"If I wasn't completely clear before: I love you. I love you enough to sacrifice myself in your nightmares, I love you enough to do stupid physical therapy sessions that I hate because you get sad when I don't go, I love you enough to make Robin take a room with Nancy and Jonathan so I could stay right here with you, and I love you enough to suck your dick to help you sleep."

Steve snorted.

"Be my guest, then," he gestured down at his lap, watching Eddie literally lick his lips.

Just when Eddie was breathing against his stomach, ready to move further down, Steve stopped him.

"Wait!" Eddie looked up at him, eyes wide. "I love you, too. Need you to know that."

Fondness poured from Eddie as he pressed a kiss to Steve's stomach.

"I know, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddieholidaydrabbles #vacation

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apomaro-mellow · 15 days

Text

Hot for Teacher(s) 10

Part 9

Shawn tried not to think too hard about his dad and his teacher dating. He knew his family was a little different than the others. Most people had two parents. But he’d never ask for his sire to show up. Never in a million years. He still remembered how bad it got.

It made him a little wary of Mr. Munson. He didn’t think he’d ever hit his father. But sometimes pain wasn’t physical. Even when Billy hadn’t put his hands on Steve, the yelling had been horrible too. But Steve had been in love. And there had been a time when Billy cared for him. He’d told Shawn so.

Shawn couldn’t believe it. People in love didn’t do that kind of thing. People in love did things like go out on dates, gave each other gifts and scented each other nicely.

Like how Shawn could smell Mr. Munson on his dad. He probably wouldn’t have been able to tell who it was if not by his powers of deduction. They’d been sitting on his bed, his dad reading him a bedtime story. He didn’t bring up the scent, or how it made him feel nice. He just hoped Mr. Munson would stay around a while.

“Are you and Mr. Munson in love?”

Steve fumbled with the basketball in his hands and Shawn used the opportunity to steal it from him and go for a shot. He missed, but getting a steal from his dad was still nice.

“He and I are…dating, as you know”, Steve said, grabbing the ball as it bounced his way. “I think it’s a little too soon to be using words like ‘love’.”

“He’s over here a lot”, Shawn said.

Steve didn’t know how much he should read into that. Was Shawn saying he didn’t like Eddie being around so much? Did he feel like someone else was taking time away from Steve? It was hard to tell with his son sometimes what he was thinking.

“How come you always make me go out when he’s over?”

“I don’t always-”

“I know you’re going on a date every time I have a sleepover. And I’ve been having a lot of sleepovers lately.” Shawn’s expression was a little too mature for a child his age.

“First, don’t interrupt, it’s rude. Second, I thought you liked having sleepovers.”

“I do. I just don’t know why you don’t want me around Mr. Munson. I see him all day at school.”

Steve kept his body language nonchalant while dribbling the ball. “Well that’s just it. I figured you’d be sick of him. He’s at school AND at home?” He shot and the ball went right in.

“If I score more than you, can we get ice cream?”

“Shawn, it’s January.”

“I want chocolate with gummy bears.”

Steve was still thinking of it a few days later when he had sent Shawn on yet another sleepover while he, Eddie, and Robin got drunk and gave powerpoint presentations on a subject of their choice. Robin was about ten slides deep into one about why TV shows sucked on writing lesbians on purpose but somehow made the most compelling character chemistry on accident.

At first, he’d been sitting close to Eddie, legs in his lap, playing with his hair but Steve had learned that Eddie never sat still for long. Every few slides, he’d jump up with an interjection and Steve knew if he didn’t want to flop off the couch, he’d better not get too tangled.

Robin was very open to discussion. Heated discussion but still. Steve finally cleared his throat when they started getting closer, hands moving wildly as they argued about the sexuality of Sandy the Squirrel.

“Hey, it’s Powerpoint Night, not debate night”, Steve said.

Robin gasped. “Steve! Can we have debate night. We finally have a third party to mediate.”

“What do you guys need a mediator for?”, Eddie asked.

“She has very strong opinions on salted caramel”, Steve said. “Your turn Eddie.”

Eddie got up, his presentation popping up as he cleared his throat. “Pluto’s Planet Status: Logic vs Sentimentality….”

Robin stayed the night, taking up the guest bed while Eddie went up to Steve’s room. He’d been inside before, but it always felt momentous. A space that not many had seen before and Steve was allowing him. They collapsed next to each other, limbs tangling through the night.

The next day, they got up, making a breakfast of sausage, eggs, and other greasy things to stave off any hangover symptoms. And before Eddie left, Steve asked a favor of him.

“Do you…mind scenting some of the pillows? Not for me, but for Shawn? I want to gauge his reaction to the idea of you becoming more…permanent.”

Eddie’s eyes got wide. “Do you want me to be more permanent?”

Steve bit his lip and nodded, moving in close to scent Eddie at his neck. “You’ve always smelled like safety to me. And now…you’re starting to smell like home.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him, confirming that he felt the same. He wanted more of Steve’s scent around his own home. Eddie completed the favor, scenting the soft throw pillows on the couch.

When Shawn got home, he had Steve spent most of the day inside, doing various things but when the sun set, they had a movie night. Steve tried not to look too giddy when Shawn grabbed one of the pillows and held it to his chest, nose pressed to it. His body language may have been neutral, but the happiness must’ve shown in his scent because Shawn started to cuddle up to him. His omega hindbrain was filled with thoughts he hadn’t allowed for a long time.

Good alpha. Safe. Perfect alpha. Perfect for pup. Need to scent pup. Need him scented by both.

That was all Steve needed to move things up to the next step. He enacted it when picking Shawn up from school one day. He was mindful not to take up too much of Eddie’s time during dismissal, but Eddie always assured Steve that he’d rather talk to him than the other parents.

“What if you’ve got something important to tell them?”

“That’s what emails are for. And really, how many times can I say ‘your kid cried because someone looked at them’ or ‘ they’re chattier than a telemarketer’?”

Steve figured some things about being a teacher didn’t change all that much between the age groups. He built up his nerves to ask the question. He had already asked Shawn if it was okay and his pup was more than happy about it.

“You know, Shawn’s birthday is coming up soon. We usually go out and do whatever he wants. And we were wondering if you wanted to tag along?”

Eddie looked between them both, mouth agape and looking like he wanted to jump for joy, hug them both, and blast off like a rocket all at once. It really made Steve want to kiss him in front of all these people, parents, teachers and all.

“Hell yeah-I mean, y-yeah”, Eddie stuttered when he remembered where he was.

Shawn looked elated too and things couldn’t be more right.

And of course, that was when things started going wrong.

Part 11 coming soon