#steddie prompt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ikarakie · 1 year

Text

after eddie introduces a demogorgon to one of his hellfire campaigns, the kids get a little squirmy. they're nervously looking at each other and aren't engaging as excitedly as they usually do. when he calls time, he watches dustin rummage through his backpack and produce a walkie talkie.

he watches, a bit dumbfounded, as the kid demands a 'check-in'. all at once, multiple different voices come over the channel. stating a name and then saying 'safe.' ("nancy, safe." "robin, safe." "max, safe.")

"steve?" dustin demands. there's only static. "steve!" a little more frantic this time.

"he left to pick you up." a female voice replies, "he's probably fine. you'll see him soon."

none of the kids look particularly pleased, and pack up hastily. eddie and the other hellfire members all share confused glances. he, more morbidly curious than anything else, follows the little sheep as they hurry out of the school.

dustin is fucking restless as they all stand in the empty parking lot. he won't stay still and none of them are answering any of eddie's questions. and he only gets more confused when a brown beemer pulls in, windows down and playing depeche mode through the speakers. dustin goes to sprint towards it, and he has to hold him by the collar to stop him getting run over.

the beemer pulls up and steve harrington, in all his glory, steps out, frowning. dustin wrenches out of eddie's grip and all but bodies the guy, wrapping arms tightly around his midsection. steve, still looking puzzled, hugs back. lucas and mike trail after dustin.

"we called a check-in." dustin says, a bit muffled from where his face is smushed into steve's shirt. steve goes sort of pale, and- and presses a goddamn kiss to the top of henderson's head before tightening the hug.

"shit, i'm sorry." and eddie believes him. he sounds so guilty. "i meant to replace the batteries before i left. sorry, i'm okay." dustin pulls back and scrubs at his eyes. lucas takes his place, though the hug he gives is more like one of those bro-hugs jocks seem to love. steve smiles regardless. he just ruffles mike's hair, who pouts in response but looks relieved nonetheless.

"asshole." he mutters. "rule four, walkies on at all times." steve nods as the kid half-heartedly waves goodbye to eddie and hops in the backseat of the beemer. lucas follows. dustin seems reluctant to walk around the car, to take his eyes off steve for even a second.

"you wanna stay over tonight?" steve asks, warm and gentle. he folds his arms and in that moment eddie thinks they look sort of like brothers. "robin and me were gonna watch some films. we can call your mom from mine."

the kid nods, looking a bit happier. steve slaps him on the back and motions him to get in the car. dustin swivels to hug and say goodbye to eddie (who sort of forgot he was physically present in this moment) before doing as he was told.

steve turns to eddie. which- whew! hi pretty eyes.

"sorry." he smiles and eddie can't for the life of him figure out what he's apologising for. "they, uh- yeah. them." he gestures vaguely at the car and eddie just chuckles.

"hey, man, no worries." he says, a little breathless that he's having a conversation with the steve harrington. "they okay? never seen henderson look so rattled." steve nods, then seems to think better of it and just shrugs. cocks his hip to the side (stop fucking staring at his hips, munson, lord!)

"they will be." he glances back at the beemer, which is now full of childish bickering. pauses to think and then asks, "you using demogorgons in your campaign right now?"

eddie blinks at him. "yes? yeah. what the fuck- how do you know what that is? what-" steve just laughs.

"long story." there's a haunted look in his eyes before he continues, "just, uh- that's probably what upset them. demogorgons and us- them, i mean-" he waves his hand. "bad memories. hard to explain, but... if you could..." he doesn't need to ask, seems like he doesn't know how or even if he's allowed.

"got it, ill tweak the campaign." harrington smiles at him, something small and genuine, and murmurs a thanks. offers him a fucking lift, which eddie declines, motioning to his van. harrington just nods, tells him to get home safe and then clambers back into the car, yells at the kids to put seatbelts on with all the exasperation of a single dad, and pulls away.

eddie watches them go, having seen a side of harrington he'd thought dustin had been lying about. steve harrington, the caring babysitter, everyone's older brother, a changed man.

he starts escorting the kids to the parking lot more often.

11K notes · View notes

juiceicicles · 6 months

Text

Eddie and Steve have been friends for a while now, and they’re getting pretty close. With the revelation that Steve isn’t actually a major douchebag comes the revelation that Steve is actually pretty great

Except for one thing

Anytime Eddie says something incredibly nerdy, Steve closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. Eddie cannot figure out why he does this, especially since Robin or Dustin might say the same things and get no reaction.

It bums him out a little, kind of makes him think that Harrington’s not quite let go of the whole King Steve thing.

Until one night where they’re hanging out and Eddie says something incredibly nerdy. Steve takes a deep breath, puts his face in his hands, mutters “God you’re such a dork” and hauls Eddie into a searing kiss

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie prompt #Steve thinks Eddie is really cute when he gets excited and passionate #So he has to steady himself so he isn’t being a huge homosexual(tm) in public #juicepost

3K notes · View notes

steviesbicrisis · 1 year

Text

Gareth is in charge of the Corroded Coffin official TikTok account, being the only one who actually uses social media on a daily basis.

He's playing Fuck Marry Kill with the three random celebrities generator and trying to make the other guys join as well.

When it's Eddie's turn, he's having none of it "they're just gonna get mad at me because I know no one! let me live in peace!"

Gareth insists until he shoves the phone in Eddie's face, giving him no chance to escape. The filter generates three pictures on top of Eddie's face.

"I have no fucking clue who these people-" he stops talking as his eyes focus on the last picture, it's a man around his age with voluminous hair and beautiful features. Eddie pulls the phone up close, ripping it out of Gareth's hand, to have a better look.

"you okay man?" Gareth asks, out of frame.

"Kiss, have sex with, marry, and adopt a puppy with him," he says, pointing at the guy on the screen "kill the other two."

"That's not how you play man, the fuck??" Gareth appears in frame and looks at the celebrities "you mean the third guy? are you serious?"

Eddie glares at him sideways "have you fucking seen him? he's a fucking-" but the video is cut off by the time limit.

The most liked comment under the video is by none other than famous baseball player Steve Harrington:

"I'm more of a cat type, but how about we discuss it over dinner? ;)"

More of this story here

#steddie #steddie headcanon #steve and eddie #steve x eddie #steddie prompt #prompts #famous eddie munson #famous steve harrington #guitarist eddie munson #baseball player steve harrington #tiktok au #celebrities au #corroded coffin #sbc writes #ficlets

11K notes · View notes

ghosttotheparty · 11 months

Text

saw this prompt @newgrangespirals @steddieas-shegoes; needed to write it but also i kind of derailed it bc my brain has a mind of its own and its focus is steddie so i apologize also on ao3

He’s met with silence.

Eddie supposes Murray Bauman must only ever be met with silence after speaking; he doesn’t seem the type of man to hold an easy, casual conversation. Especially now.

Even Argyle is silent, his fork stalled on its way to his mouth as he looks from Murray to Jonathan, whose face is red, then Nancy, who’s equally flushed.

Eddie looks at the table, his vision blurring. His hands are shaking.

“Murray,” Joyce says in a lethally calm voice. Eddie had forgotten she was here. “Go.”

“What do you mean, go?” Murray says, his voice quieter like he’s starting to sense what he’s just done. “We’re in—“

“Murray,” Joyce snaps. Eddie flinches. His fingers are knotting with the hem of the tablecloth, his food uneaten on his plate. “Go. I will deal with you later.”

There’s a moment of quiet before Murray’s chair scrapes across the uneven tile floor, and his footsteps retreat. And then there’s silence again. Tense, tense silence.

“Steve,” Nancy says quietly, and Eddie looks up at her, glaring even though she hasn’t done anything to him. Jonathan looks at her too, anxious. Joyce sips her water, her hand shaking, and Hopper has his head down, his face hidden in his hands.

“I’m good,” Steve says shortly, and Eddie looks at him, his stomach flipping. Steve is smiling a little, but it’s an awful smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes. He pushes his plate away with a breath like he feels just as sick as Eddie does, and he nods, but he doesn’t look like he’s really here. “I’m…”

“Steve, it— it wasn’t—“

“You told him my name,” Steve snaps, looking at her across the table, his eyes wide. Nancy looks like she’s going to start crying, and Eddie finds that he really doesn’t care if she does. “And you still…”

He laughs. Dryly, humourlessly. Eddie feels like he might throw up.

Steve closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose the way he does when he feels a migraine coming on, and he laughs again.

“Steve—“ Jonathan tries to say, but Steve just holds his hands up, shaking his head.

“I’m just…”

He pushes his plate farther away, moving his chair back with a loud scrape, and then he’s leaving too, going upstairs. Eddie watches him go, watches Robin get up to follow him before she deflates, seeing the way Steve gestures for her to stay, to leave him alone. Robin’s hands are shaking, and Eddie can practically feel the anger radiating from her.

The silence is back after a door slams upstairs.

Joyce sets her glass down loudly, and she puts her hands flat on the table next to her plate, taking a deep, shaky breath. Hopper says her name softly, but she holds a hand up, shushing him.

“I have never…” she starts slowly, her voice shaking with anger. “I have never been more disappointed in my life.”

“Mom—”

“Jonathan,” Joyce snaps, fixing a look on him, and he falls quiet. “…I did not raise you to be the other man. And Nancy, I…” She puts her hands on the table again, taking a measured breath before she looks at Nancy. “I am not your mother, but I think I am well within my rights to say I’m disappointed in you, too.”

“Ms Byers—”

“I don’t want to hear a word out of either of you,” Joyce says calmly before she touches her face, rubbing her chin anxiously as she stares at her plate in front of her. Nobody is eating anymore. Eddie still feels sick, but he also feels like he’s blended into the wall, like everybody’s forgotten that he’s here at all. He looks at the table, at the fraying tablecloth that’s clutched in his fingers.

“Unbelievable,” Joyce mutters to herself. “I can’t…” She doesn’t finish the sentence. Nancy takes a shuddering breath. She might be crying.

“Eddie, dude.”

Eddie looks up, his eyes meeting Argyle’s. He’s looking over at Eddie anxiously, his head tilted a little bit, and as they look at each other, the others look at Eddie too. And suddenly he isn’t in the wall, but he’s the centrepiece of the table, the showstopper, the freak.

It’s like they all remember what Murray said at the same time.

“Eddie,” Joyce says, her voice softer than it was a moment ago. Kinder. Eddie looks at her. “Honey, if… if it is true. None of us have any problem with it.”

If it is true.

They all know it is. Eddie can tell just by looking at them that they all know.

He feels so… small. Like he’s fifteen again. Like he’s new in high school, like he’s walking down the hallway and feeling all the stares, the eyes and eyes and eyes looking, watching, analysing, judging. Even though Joyce’s gaze is kind, and Hopper gives him a slight nod when their eyes meet.

Eddie’s chest feels so tight he can’t breathe, each breath shallow and weak, and he’s kind of lightheaded, and he feels fucking nauseous.

“I, uhm.” He clears his throat, his stomach churning, and he untangled his fingers from the tablecloth, taking a sharp breath. “Excuse me,” he says quickly, breathlessly, moving his chair back so fast it tips on the uneven tiles. He feels like he might pass out as he goes upstairs, hearing Argyle say something quietly behind him.

Upstairs feels even quiet than downstairs. Like every room could have an echo.

Eddie finds a room that’s empty except for some cardboard boxes, and he shuts the door behind himself before he goes to the opposite side of the room, closing his eyes as he presses his forehead to the wall. It’s cold.

He’s breathing too fast, and his head feels light, like if his eyes were open his vision would be dark. He wraps his arms around himself tightly, squeezing as he exhales until he wheezes, until there’s nothing in his lungs, and then he inhales as slowly as he can. In, in, in, until he can’t anymore. He holds it. Exhales. Does it all over again.

Until he can breathe without suffocating.

He turns to rest his back on the wall, and he slides down to the floor, closing his eyes and pulling his knees to his chest, exhaling shakily.

He’s never felt like this before.

He feels so… lonely.

He feels almost cold, even though sunlight is streaming through the window, beams of golden light glowing across the floor.

He cries. Even though he tries not to. He can’t help it, and the tears are absorbed by the sleeves of his hoodie.

Steve’s hoodie. Eddie hates that he’s wearing it, even though Steve brought it just for him. Even though Steve specifically made sure he brought a black one, even though it smells like Steve. Eddie hates that Murray noticed that it’s Steve’s.

He stays there for a while. Until the sunlight dims.

He only lifts his head when the door breaks open, and Steve’s voice says, “Eddie?”

Eddie stands quickly, wiping his face and sniffling as Steve finds him and shuts the door behind himself.

“Hey,” Eddie says, his voice wavering. “You okay?”

Steve nods. He doesn’t look like he’s been crying, but his eyes are shining blankly. And Eddie aches.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t really have to. Steve blinks at him, hesitating.

“I kind of already knew,” he says like it’s a question. “I just…” He exhales, swallowing, and Eddie knows he’s talking about Nancy and Jonathan. It. “I, like, convinced myself I didn’t care? That it— it didn’t matter?”

Eddie listens, leaning against the wall, watching Steve push his hair back anxiously.

“I mean— the world was ending, who gives a shit if— if I get cheated on? It’s so fucking stupid.” He doesn’t seem to realize he’s even talking to Eddie. He’s just talking. Saying what he didn’t say downstairs. “But I’m so… Jesus. Hearing it out loud, like— like Murray was fucking proud, like it was funny, I’m just… I don’t know.”

Steve deflates, leaning against the door, looking at Eddie, and his eyes are shining.

“Embarrassed?”

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, Steve,” Eddie says softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“...I trusted them,” Steve says quietly, weakly.

“You trusted them,” Eddie repeats. “What they did is their fault, Steve, you didn’t do anything wrong. Trusting them wasn’t wrong,” he adds adamantly, watching the way Steve’s eyes shine. “You thought they were— they were trustworthy. You didn’t know they’d do something like that.”

Steve sniffs, looking at the floor. His cheeks are flushed, and Eddie hates himself for thinking he looks beautiful.

“You have every right to feel hurt,” Eddie says gently. Steve looks at him. He swallows. “And to feel angry.”

“What about you?” Steve asks quietly after a moment. Eddie blinks.

“What about me?”

Steve looks at him. His eyes flick back and forth between Eddie’s for a moment, intent and searching before he speaks. His voice is so soft. Kind.

“He just outed you in front of all of us,” he says quietly. “You’re not angry?”

Eddie blinks again.

Steve looks at him so kindly. Eddie likes being looked at like this. Like Steve is listening to him even though he isn’t speaking. And Eddie realizes that Steve just knows, that he doesn’t question it. That he knows how Eddie is feeling, but is waiting for him to say it himself.

Eddie’s lip quivers, and he feels like a child again.

“I…” He hesitates, taking a breath as a wave of nausea washes over him again. Steve just looks at him. “I’ve never come out to anyone,” he says weakly. He doesn’t recognize his own voice. “I’ve never gotten the chance to. My— My dad found some zines in my room when I was fourteen, and I didn’t… I didn’t have to say anything.” His voice is shaking. He’s never told anyone about this, not even Jeff. “The only time I ever heard that man say anything about God was when he was trying to beat the queer out of me,” he says, laughing the way Steve laughed downstairs. Humorless. Almost hysterical. “And he— he called Wayne to tell him everything because he…”

Eddie trails off, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

“I told myself no one would ever know when Wayne took me in, but I swear it was like overnight, the whole town knew,” he chokes. “Because of— of my hair, or my clothes, or— or because people associate queerness with evil and— and Satanism, I don’t fucking know, but everyone knew and I…”

He covers his face, his face hot with embarrassment as a sob escapes him, and it feels so stupid to be so upset right now, but Steve just waits patiently, listening and looking at him.

“People keep taking it,” Eddie chokes, his face wet with tears now, looking at Steve desperately. “It’s mine, and people keep taking it from me.”

Steve nods.

And then he’s coming close and wrapping his arms around Eddie, and Eddie is crying into his shoulder, his hands clutching at Steve’s shirt the way they clutched at the tablecloth earlier, his fingers gripping the fabric so tightly his knuckles ache. He’s shaking. But Steve’s hands feel steady as they run over his back, and Eddie wants to die.

Because Murray told them to have sex. And Steve is still here, holding Eddie while he cries, even though he knows Eddie is gay, even though Murray told the whole table that Eddie likes Steve, that it’s so painfully obvious that he likes Steve. That he’s pining, yearning.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face into Steve’s neck, his shoulders shaking as he sobs, and Steve moves a hand to hold the back of his head, his fingers pressing into Eddie’s curls to cradle his skull. And it’s almost fucking tender, and Eddie doesn’t know how he got here. Or where he’s going to go.

Steve is murmuring to him. Quiet I got yous and It’s okays, his voice breathy and soft in Eddie’s ear. Eddie melts against him, and Steve holds him tightly, swaying with him, rubbing his back and scratching his fingertips over his scalp carefully the way he does when Eddie has nightmares.

Eddie whines into his neck, choking on his breath, and Steve’s arm tightens around his waist like he’s preparing to catch Eddie if he falls.

“I know,” he whispers softly. “It’s not fair.”

Eddie shakes his head.

It’s not fair.

It’s fucking bullshit.

The whole world thinks it knows him better than he knows himself. Even if they’re fucking right. It’s not fair. He’s never gotten to speak for himself, never gotten to really introduce himself.

He aches when he finally stops crying, his fingers relaxing but still holding Steve’s shirt loosely, and his hands are sore. Steve runs his hand through Eddie’s hair. He waits, holding Eddie close even though he isn’t crying anymore, touching him gently, kindly, as Eddie catches his breath.

“You know what I’m angriest at?” Eddie asks softly after a few moments, his voice weak and breaking from his crying. Steve touches his head again.

“What?” Steve whispers.

“...He’s fucking right.”

Steve is quiet. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut as they burn again.

And then Steve is shifting, holding the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie blinks his eyes open to look at him. Steve looks into his eyes intently, and it’s almost too much, but Eddie can’t look away, his hands tightening on Steve’s shirt.

“About everything?” he whispers softly. Tentatively.

Eddie looks back and forth between his eyes, and he nods.

He feels sick again. He can’t breathe.

Steve’s hand moves to Eddie’s face, and he’s so fucking warm. His thumb brushes over Eddie’s cheek so lightly Eddie can barely feel it. And Steve’s face relaxes, like he’s deflating, as he touches Eddie’s face, as his other hand presses into the small of his back.

“I really fucking hate him,” Steve breathes. His eyes flicker across Eddie’s face, and they linger on Eddie’s mouth. Eddie whispers his name. Steve hesitates, stammering silently for a moment before, “Can you say it?”

Eddie steps back a little, and their hands fall even though they’re still close enough for Eddie to see the green in his eyes.

“...Say what?” he asks hesitantly. Steve looks at him, his eyes shining, and he looks so desperate suddenly.

“Everything,” he says breathlessly. “I wanna hear it from you.”

Eddie’s eyes fill with tears, but Steve looks like he’s begging, and Eddie is weak.

“I’m gay,” he says softly, whispering like he’s worried someone outside might hear. “And I…” He takes a breath. Steve’s eyes look back and forth between Eddie’s like he’s looking for it. “I have, like… a huge fucking crush on you.”

Steve’s eyes drop to Eddie’s mouth like he’s watching his lips form the words. Eddie is trembling. Steve suddenly feels like he’s across the room, like he’s far away even though they’re standing so close.

“I might fucking be in love with you, Steve, I…”

He chokes on his breath, and Steve is touching him again, reaching for his face and wiping away his tears carefully, stepping closer. Eddie’s hands find his waist, and he grips his shirt again.

Steve says his name.

It always sounds so nice in his mouth.

“You don’t– You don’t have to,” Eddie says, trying to tear himself away, closing his eyes as Steve holds his face and wipes his tears. “I know, it’s…”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers, his hands tightening on Eddie’s cheeks, and he’s so close now, their noses almost brushing. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Eddie’s eyes widen. He leans back to see Steve clearly, and Steve looks so nervous that Eddie aches.

“Really?” Eddie asks weakly.

“I…” Steve pauses, brushing his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks and licking his lips, hesitating. “I might be fucking in love with you too,” he whispers.

Eddie closes his eyes, exhaling as Steve strokes his cheeks again. He gasps for breath when Steve’s forehead touches his, his hands tightening on Steve’s shirt before he slides his hands over his waist gently. He can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” Steve asks again, his breath soft on Eddie’s face.

“Yeah,” he chokes.

Steve’s palms press to Eddie’s cheeks, and Eddie’s hands clutch at Steve’s waist desperately when Steve’s nose nudges his, when their lips brush. He feels like he’s dying.

But Steve kisses him so softly, so sweetly. Holding his face tenderly in his hands and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away to look at him, to check, even though Eddie is holding him against himself, even though Eddie’s chin lifts like he’s subconsciously searching for his mouth again.

Eddie’s eyes flutter open, and Steve is smiling at him. It’s such a soft smile, and Eddie forgets everything that’s happened today. Except Steve’s lips on his.

“Please,” he breathes. Begs. Pleads.

Steve kisses him again. One of his hands slides to hold the back of his head again, his fingers threading into Eddie’s curls, and his other shifts down to Eddie’s neck, his fingertips slipping under the hoodie as his thumb brushes over Eddie’s throat so lightly it tickles a little bit. Eddie’s hands press to Steve’s waist and slide to press into the small of his back, and he’s probably wrinkling the fabric of his shirt, but neither of them cares as they tilt their heads, as their lips part.

They pull away to look at each other after a few moments, close enough that they’re sharing breaths as they both breathe hard, as Steve’s fingertips scratch over Eddie’s scalp lightly and Eddie’s eyelids flutter for a second. And then Steve is tilting his head and leaning down to kiss Eddie’s neck, his fingers twisting in his hair to hold him in place, and Eddie is dying, letting out a whimper as his eyes close and his hands reach for Steve’s arms. His fingertips dig into the soft flesh of his upper arms, squeezing as Steve presses a slow kiss under his ear. His mouth is so warm.

Steve kisses him when he lifts his head, and Eddie kisses him back desperately, reaching to wrap his arms around his neck, whining when Steve’s hands find his waist and pull.

Then Steve pushes, reaching up to hold the back of Eddie’s head, and Eddie stumbles back, his fingers tangling in Steve’s hair and tugging when his back hits the wall. Steve’s hand blocks his head from the wall, and Eddie smiles against his mouth, gasping when Steve’s tongue slips across his lip.

“Steve,” he gasps, lightheaded as Steve sucks on his lower lip, as one of his hands slides under the hoodie to touch his skin. His palms are a little rough with calluses, scratching the sensitive scar tissue on Eddie’s waist lightly, and Eddie groans.

Steve pulls away with a gasp, looking at Eddie desperately, frantically, his other hand holding his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, and his lips are shining, and his hair is a mess, and Eddie wantshimwantshimwantshim—

“Do you wanna leave?” Steve asks, his voice rough, and Eddie looks at his mouth, still panting. “I… I don’t wanna see any of them, I just…” He’s breathless too. His hand runs over Eddie’s scarring again almost mindlessly as his thumb brushes his cheek. “Do you wanna go?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.

Steve smiles softly, his eyes shining at him, and he leans in to kiss him one more time, caressing his cheek. (Caressing. Jesus.) Eddie hums, savouring it before they part with a quiet, slick noise that seems to echo in the empty room.

Eddie feels lightheaded again, but he’s smiling like he’s sleepy as Steve shifts his hands to press his chin up, smiling at how pliant Eddie is. Eddie laughs under his breath, his hands holding Steve’s shoulders.

“I’m so fucking… relieved right now,” Eddie whispers, his head falling to rest on the wall behind him. Steve kisses him again before he pulls him close, hugging him tightly.

Eddie buries his face in Steve’s neck, wrapping his arms around him tightly, wanting to jump up and wrap his legs around his waist, to cling to him like a koala, wanting to climb inside him, to be as close as fucking possible. Steve exhales roughly, pushing a hand into Eddie’s hair.

Steve holds his hand as they leave, ignoring the others that are gathered in the living room, even though they’re clearly waiting for the two of them. Eddie lets the door slam shut behind them. Steve drives. Eddie reaches over and puts a hand on his thigh, squeezing gently as he looks out the windows and watches the world go by.

He’s kind of anxious about this, whatever it is. Anxious that he isn’t what Steve thinks he is, what Steve hopes he is, anxious that he isn’t enough for him.

But he’ll try his best, he knows he will. He’ll bring Steve fucking flowers, he’ll write him fucking poems if it makes him smile. He’ll ravish him the way he deserves, touch him the way he likes, tell him every chance he gets how fucking beautiful he is. He’ll kiss him good morning and learn how to make his coffee just right. He’ll memorize the pattern of his moles and name constellations on his skin.

He’ll remind him every single day, as long as Steve lets him have him, what he deserves.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie prompt #steddie one shot #steve harrington one shot #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things one shot

4K notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 1 year

Text

Robin and Eddie accidentally show up wearing matching flannel shirts and curly high-bun hairdos and Steve pulls them both into a Steve sandwich group hug like

Steve: Awww, my favorite lesbians are matching

Eddie: Excuse you! How come I have to be a lesbian, huh? Why can’t Robin be one of your boyfriends?

Steve: Do you wanna be my boyfriend, Robbie?

Robin: No, I do not.

Steve: She doesn’t want to be my boyfriend, Eds.

Eddie: Well I don’t want to be your lesbian!

Steve: Wooooooow.

Robin: Didn’t know you were dating a homophobe.

Steve: Me neither. 😔

Eddie: (indignant bird noises)

#platonic stobin bullies eddie CONSTANTLY but in a loving way #robin just likes to see how many octaves she can get eddie’s voice to go up #lmao i don’t know what this is i just want to see art of steve hugging matching robin and eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie #steddie prompt #platonic stobin

13K notes · View notes

kitchen-spoon · 7 months

Text

90’s au where Eddie is a porn star who hires Steve to be his child’s nanny to watch them while he works or has to fly away for a few days for work.

Eddie is popular because of his dark aesthetic, people are really into all the black clothes, the rings, crazy long hair, tattoos and piercings. He is also popular because he works with women and men and is know for it.

Steve and Robin had just moved to New York for Robin’s college and because Steve goes wherever she goes. They apply for jobs and are desperate so they even go to the library and reply to ads on Craigs list. That is when Steve sees a posting for someone looking for a nanny for their 2 year old daughter. It was basically a 9-5 almost everyday with extra pay for overnight weekend stays too. It seemed to good to be true but Steve applied anyway, what could the harm be?

That ad is how Steve met Eddie, the sexiest most confident man he’d ever met. He was so smooth and flirty and open about his job away from the small ears of his daughter who just knew daddy was a model. He’d toy with Steve, batting his big brown eyes, biting his lip and smirking at him during the small moments where their schedules would cross over and they’d see each other.

Eddie couldn’t help himself, he got bolder with time moving to leaning into Steve’s space to catch a whiff of his Cologne, fleeting touches just so he could feel the firmness of Steve’s muscles under his fingertips. Steve was exactly Eddie’s type, shorter than him and built with the sass and attitude of someone twice his size. He was a tan hairy Italian dream, and Eddie would do anything to taste that cross Steve wore around his neck. He couldn’t help but imagine the brunette oiled up, laying in the sun in the tinest little speedo, his perfect brown hair glowing.

The tension grows between them with each passing month, not helped by how much Eddie’s daughter loves Steve and how much it melts Eddie’s heart to see how gentle and sweet Steve is with her. It all comes to a head one night 5 months after Steve is hired. Steve does his usual stalling so he can stick around and flirt with Eddie before he leaves, relishing in the touches Eddie will give him. He gives in that night and agrees to stay for a glass of wine. They sit on Eddie’s couch, closer than anything that could pass as casual. Their knees were touching and Steve was leaned right in Eddie’s space, arm resting against the back of the couch as he looked up through his lashes while Eddie spoke. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice his wineglass slowly tipping over in his hand until it spilled all over his and Eddie’s laps.

They cleaned up in the kitchen, Steve blushing as Eddie called him sweetheart and hoisted him up on to the counter like he weighed nothing. Eddie dabbed at Steve’s pants, slowly moving up until he was pressing directly over the growing bulge in Steve’s pants. And then Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved Eddie’s hands away and slid his own into Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward so he could finally know what that tongue piercing felt like. Eddie didn’t let Steve have control for long, and they ended the night with Steve bent over the marble counter tops Eddie’s fingers shoved in his mouth to shut him up.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things ships #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things one shot #robin buckley #famous eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie prompt

1K notes · View notes

imfinereallyy · 1 month

Text

I don’t know why, but there is something so deeply special about the “you know I’m in love with you? Right?” trope to me. It’s the only miscommunication trope I genuinely enjoy. There is just something about the way a character just stares at their love interest in exasperation or confusion and points out the blatantly obvious thing between them. Whether they scream it out in frustration, or say it in a deadpan manner or even with a little laugh and tilt of the head. Just looking at someone, realizing what do I have to lose at this point? And just saying “Dude, you have to know I’m in love with you, right?” My heart does a little flutter every time.

#the love was always here and never went away #give it to me #I eat it up #romance tropes #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #platonic stobin #ao3 #angst #my writing #fan fiction #writing #prompts #steddie prompt

599 notes · View notes

momotonescreaming · 3 months

Text

Things have been charged between Steve and Eddie for a while. Wandering eyes, lingering hands, catching the other looking out of the corner of their eye. Comments just on the verge between flirty and friendly. Not so secret hints about sexualities.

They're in Eddie's trailer one evening, eating dinner, watching movies. Touching just because they can, sneaking glances. The air is electric between them.

Steve catches Eddie's glaze dropping down to his lips. And then they're kissing. It's deep, and heated, and wet. With lips and tongues and teeth and fuck Steve's good at this.

Hands pulling at shirts, tugging at waistbands. Desperately seeking the warmth of the others skin.

It's everything. Eddie wants it. He doesn't know how much he can take. How much Steve is willing to give. How much he actually wants.

So he mentions something about keeping it casual, said between groans and presses of lips. And then the pressure's gone. He opens his eyes to find Steve pulling back, tucking his polo back into his jeans. Smoothing down his hair.

What.

And Steve says no. He can't do casual anymore and he thought Eddie knew that. He told Eddie that he was sick of hook ups, and one night stands, and meaningless sex. He was sick of being used for sex. Being wanted for his body, because he was hot, because he was good in bed - and nothing else. That Steve wanted more. He thought this was more with Eddie. That it was the beginning of something new. An actual relationship.

And then he's leaving. Grabbing his keys and heading out of the trailer. Eddie doesn't get a chance to say anything before he hears the roar of the beemer's engine tear out of Forest Hills.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie prompt #momo.txt #been having thoughts about steve not being able to do casual relationships #dont mind me

471 notes · View notes

loverghoul · 8 months

Text

thinking about Eddie’s dom voice being the same as his dramatic DM voice and Steve only finding out when he finally relents and joins a session. Also thinking about Eddie & Steve who haven’t yet met in person or seen each other’s faces but have been talking (and more) on the phone for weeks. Steve is picking Dustin up from a DnD session that’s run late -

Usually he would wait in the car, but tonight seems to be taking especially long, and Eddie, very unusually, hasn’t messaged him back for 2 hours now, so it’s either go in early or practice the breathing exercises Robin gets him to do when his anxiety flares up. He decides to go in early.

The lights are dimmed in the cafe, and the front door regretfully informs him that ‘sorry, we’re closed,’ but the door isn’t locked, and he can hear sounds of life spilling from the back of the building. The delighted yells of his pseudo-little brother and the rest of the party drown out the cafe’s entry bell. He follows the sounds of outraged yelling to the back of the room where the party & a couple of guys Steve doesn’t recognise are huddled around 3 tables pushed together. There’s a guy sitting at the head of the table, hunched forward, wild hair falling into his face as he gestures to the group. He’s pretty, Steve thinks idly, if a little dramatic. He’s perched atop a fucking throne and Steve is just about to roll his eyes when the man speaks in a low, gravelly tone. The one Steve has been hearing in every phone call, every dream, every fantasy he’s had for the past 7 weeks. The one that hooks straight into his gut and pulls.

Steve’s vaguely aware that somewhere his eyes have widened, and his mouth has parted into a soft ‘oh,’ and his body has frozen where he left it. He is also aware, far more saliently, of the quiet static in his bones, white noise rippling calmly in his brain, his overwhelming need to be good. Steve isn’t sure how long his body stands stationary, his consciousness floating 3 feet to the left, before the DnD group slowly turn to look back at him. Steve feels the guy at the head of the table’s stare the most, intense, almost-black eyes boring straight through to the core of him, trapping Steve in his gaze, a butterfly pinned under glass. The guy raises one unimpressed eyebrow, clears his throat, and Steve braces himself to hear the voice that’s roamed the passages of his mind every day for the past 7 weeks.

‘Hey, uh, did you miss the ‘closed’ sign on your way in, buddy?’ The guy, although Steve thinks he may as well reconcile this mystery man with his Eddie, drawls at him, almost bored sounding. The higher pitched, borderline nasal quality his voice has resumed helps force Steve back inside his own body with a jolt.

‘I’m here for little Dustin. My little brother. Dustin.’ Steve stammers, gesturing lamely to where Dustin has rested his head in his hands. A delightedly cruel grin stretches across the guy’s, Eddie’s face.

‘Well little Dustin, don’t want to keep your brother waiting,’ Eddie trills, his eyes roving lazily down Steve’s body before snapping back to the party. As he leans forward, steepling his fingers in front of his face, his voice takes on the deep, rumbling quality that Steve has come to be intimately familiar with, sending a flush to his cheeks and shiver through core of him. ‘And that, dear friends, is where we conclude our story for today.’

The table erupts into chaos, groans and protests flying, most of them aimed at Steve if Mike’s hissed ‘thanks a lot, Harrington’ is anything to go by. Steve shuffles his way to the front counter, shoulders nearly pinned to his ears, as he waits for the party to pack up and counts 5 things he can see, touch, smell, resolutely ignores what he can hear. Because there’s no way. There’s no way Dustin’s DM is Eddie, his Eddie, the man who’s been talking him to sleep for the best part of 2 months. The same Eddie who’s been coaxing him through the exploration of his submissive side. The same Eddie he’s supposed to be going on his first date with in, oh fuck, two days. The same Eddie he was just a stuttering, gormless, fool in front of. The same Eddie walking towards him now, nodding mildly at whatever Dustin is chattering away about, staring directly into Steve’s soul. Dustin doesn’t even slow as he passes Steve toward the exit, holding the door and gesturing towards the car expectantly. Steve fumbles with his keys, desperate leave and drive away from this cafe, maybe even the whole town, if only he weren’t held captive under Eddie’s stare.

‘See ya next time, Little Dustin,’ Eddie smirks, eyes never leaving Steve’s. Somewhere to Steve’s right Dustin grumbles in response as Eddie continues. ‘And Little Dustin’s not-so-little brother.’

‘Bye, Eddie.’ Steve’s voice comes out breathless, higher than he’s used to hearing from himself under normal circumstances. The shadow of a frown crosses Eddie’s features, a flash of recognition, thunder preceding lighting.

Eddie tilts his head in confusion, opens his mouth. ‘Ste-‘

Steve bolts.

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #steddie au #steddie prompt #love speaks

846 notes · View notes

dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year

Text

Okay. Okay. No, Hopper doesn't go back to being a cop. No. He wants to settle down a bit while also still looking after the kids. He becomes Hawkins High new basketball coach, partially to make sure those dumb jocks don't mess with the kids. He hires Steve as his assistant, and honestly, Steve finally learns what it's like to have a dad. Meanwhile, Joyce and Eddie are in the bleachers gossiping while also talking about how good their guys look. They're watching them both yell with their hands on their hips when Eddie and Joyce realize they sort of have the same taste in men.

2K notes · View notes

lihhelsing · 6 months

Text

I know we love to talk about Eddie who wakes up after the UD and has lost his memory but he looks at Steve sleeping peacefully at his bedside and figures he must be his boyfriend (but they haven't even kissed yet)

but I don't think we talk enough about Eddie who wakes up with no memory, Steve is by his side and Eddie knows Steve can't be anything other than his friend because that's fucking King Steve, and just the fact that he's there is surprising to him.

But the thing is... They were dating before and Eddie doesn't remember anything and it breaks Steve's heart over and over again.

#steddie #steddie angst #steddie prompt #stranger things #idk #it's the middle of the night #and I always gets rlly sad #so you get this

901 notes · View notes

ikarakie · 1 year

Text

the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.

he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.

the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.

he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.

"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.

"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.

wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.

"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.

"changing your tire, sir?"

"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.

"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.

was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."

"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.

he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.

"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"

it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.

"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"

wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.

(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.

when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.

steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)

5K notes · View notes