#steddieas-shegoes
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(@steddieas-shegoes)
I really REALLY would love love love to see your take on Steve getting tattooed in my fic because I’m selfish and need to see a visual that isn’t my own (obviously you do not have to read the whole thing lmao but here’s the link to the first chapter that sets the whole scene: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46254667/chapters/116449816)
Or if you’d rather not do it based off what I wrote and just go with your hearts desire, I’d just like to see this boy floating in subspace because of a tattoo tbh and I feel like the way you use color and lighting would make it look sooooo good
CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWERS!!! YOU DESERVE IT!!!! ❤️❤️❤️😘😘😘🤤
There you go, sweetheart.
☀️@steddieas-shegoes @mickalaem☀️
Don't be shy, join the fanart party!
#stranger things#fanart#steddieas-shegoes#mickalaem#callme sunshine send me to space#digital art#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#inklessletter#inky art#(never better said)#☀️
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27 rated M or E because I’m a slut babe we all know this ❤️😘
HI Pretty. I know you wanted the sexytimes, but work sucked so you get FLUFF. (I'm writing kink King of Hell for you so don't worry you'll get ur slutty slutty stuff. I swear.)
ANYWHOZLE, #27 on my Spotify wrapped is Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet by the Fall Out Boys so heres...whatever this is.
----
When he walks into the room, the walls lean in to listen.
----
He still remembers the first night Steve Harrington came sauntering into the bar. Eddie thinks it would be hard to ever forget a face like that.
It was back in January. The Chicago air was thick and cold and Steve came in with a green pea coat, hair sprayed up, cheeks red from the brisk air, looking like he had waltzed out of a fucking men's fashion catalog.
Eddie had thought he was gonna have a heart attack.
He almost did, when Steve had flashed that thousand-watt smile at him. He had ordered a whiskey neat and Eddie knew he was fucked then. Way back in January.
Steve told Eddie far too much about himself that first night, after what was surely one too many whiskeys. (Three, it was three. Eddie is a bartender okay? He remembers things. It's not weird. It isn't.) But anyway, Steve had opened up pandora's box. Everyone always did, especially to Eddie. That's why he and Wayne had opened the bar, people like to talk to Eddie. He never knew exactly why, but he had always been told he was easy to talk to. Apparently, Steve Harrington agreed.
Steve Harrington--college graduate, aspiring middle school teacher, recent divorcée with a shitty ex-husband--he apparently agreed, cause he told Eddie so many things.
And Eddie listened.
Couldn't tear himself away, even if he wanted to. (He didn't.)
When it had come time to lock up, Eddie had asked Steve if he had a place to go. Steve had smiled again, but not that thousand watt grin. This one was softer--private. Eddie felt honored to see it.
Hoped he would see that smile again.
And he did--because Steve kept coming back.
"Oh, darling, I know what your going through." Eddie had said…The night Steve told him, really told him, about his ex-husband. How awful Tommy had been, telling Steve he would never graduate. Telling Steve, Steve, he wasn't good enough, handsome enough, smart enough.
It boggled Eddie's brain. The man in front of him? Eddie would give anything to tell him everything opposite.
You're enough. You're a genius. You're fucking beautiful.
But instead he just commiserated.
Steve had raised his eyebrow at that. "You were married?"
Eddie had shook his head, hair catching in his eyes. "Legally? No, but--in all the ways that counted. This isn't about me though. Tell me whatever you need to, precious."
Eddie hadn't meant to flirt as hard as he had been flirting with Steve, but there was something about the way Steve's cheeks pinked up when Eddie called him sweet things, he couldn't help it. Not then, and now? Well it was worse now…but that's beside the point. Eddie is thinking about then.
The way Steve had blushed so hard, Eddie felt like he could taste the heat coming off his perfect cheeks.
"Precious, huh? You don't even know me." Steve had said--well, he had stuttered through it and Eddie was pleased.
"Yeah baby, but I want to. So tell me more." Eddie had decided then and there that it was his personal life mission to make Steve Harrington blush as much as he possibly could, if Steve kept coming around.
Steve had stuttered into his glass before leveling Eddie with a glare. Brat.
"I just--What if I peaked early?" Steve had asked and Eddie--Eddie guffawed. It was an ugly laugh and he hadn't even been ashamed by it.
"You? Peaked? Stevie, baby, have you seen yourself? You're incredible. No way you've 'peaked.'"
Things had changed after that night.
Steve had started flirting back.
----
"Eds! Hello? Babe?" Eddie was pulled out of his thoughts by Steve flapping his (big, very nice, strong) hand in his face.
Eddie shakes his head, blinking a few times to make sure, his perfect boyfriend--fiancée--damn he needed to get used to that--is still there.
"Sorry, doll. I was thinking." Eddie says, and Steve smiles--that soft, private one again. Eddie likes to think of that smile as his.
"Thinking about me?"
Eddie smirks, "C'mon baby, I'm always thinkin' about you."
Steve laughs, "Well, it's closing time, so why don't you keep on thinkin' about me all the way home, huh?"
Eddie shakes his head, can't get over the fact that Steve Harrington actually ended up being his. He grabs the keys to the bar from his back pocket, before hopping over the counter. "Sure baby doll, let's go home."
#steddie#steddie blurb#steddie ficlet#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#Worm Spotify Series#worm brain#steddieas-shegoes#mickalaem#sorry yall we are only doing one today
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Hey hi hello! I saw you followed me back (?!?!?!?) and fangirled about it!!!!! You're an excellent writer and super cool person! Thanks for the follow back!!!!
I’m fangirling about this message omg ???? Thank you! This is why I could never be famous I would be spiraling any time anyone said something nice
#ask#I do wish I could follow from my steddieas-shegoes blog though#just so I can keep my mind straight#HA as if it would ever be straight#ba dum tssss
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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
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@steddieas-shegoes :)
the media and fans have a field day with it. steve and eddie have been public for years yet there's pictures all over twitter of steve cozied up in a booth in the corner of whatever bar, tucked tight into gareth's side under his arm with eddie nowhere in sight. a different fan posts a tiktok of them from a different angle and a little closer and you can clearly see that steve is drunk. his eyes shine unfocused in the camera flash and his cheeks are flushed. in the video he laughs loudly at something and just before one of cc's security guards blocks the view, steve leans in and buries his face in gareth's neck and gareth's fingers go to his hair.
the cheating allegations come out after that. article after article with the photo on the front page but it's nothing but radio silence from the band's twitter. no statement from eddie or gareth. fans think they're hashing it out behind the scenes and are preparing themselves for gareth's exit statement from the band or for the news to hit of steve and eddie breaking up.
none of that happens.
gareth stays in the band, steve and eddie go on like normal. they're papped in a starbucks in new york looking just as much in love as they were before the scandal. eddie and gareth don't behave any different in the videos they post of each other or on stage.
it kind of dies down after that- until a video goes up on the band's youtube one afternoon, shot that morning.
they try to keep themselves as authentic as they can, show the fans that not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the industry, and that they're real people who do real people things, too.
in the video, someone knocks on a hotel door and jeff answers. he says something that's purposefully scripted very badly and it gets a laugh out of the guys. the video shows them walking into jeff's room and it's revealed that it's a room tour. they pan around the corner into the main room and there's a lump in the bed.
there's no awkward silence between them, just a laugh from freak and a "jeeeff, it's almost ten a.m." and then eddie's pulling back the covers to reveal a slumbering steve.
people watching expect the footage to cut off abruptly or for eddie to angrily demand the situation, but again, it doesn't happen. he just laughs and squats down on the side of the bed and runs his hand through steve's hair until he wakes up.
"hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with fondness as he smiles a syrupy smile that hundreds of fans have dreampt of being on the receiving end of. "have a good sleep?"
they see steve reach out and pull eddie in by the head for a kiss. the video goes back to its scheduled programing after that, eddie following steve into the bathroom to get ready.
they don't do many interviews in the span of all this happening so fans and the media are left wondering what in the world is going on between the five of them. the boys act the same on stage every night without any signs of jealousy between them.
and then steve is photographed wearing a hoodie that fans can clearly see belongs to freak just from the size alone. neither steve or freak are small guys, but the garment is like a dress on steve. it almost goes down to his knees and the arms hang at least three inches passed his hands. it threatens to hang off of one shoulder but goddamn does steve look cozy and comfortable, burrowing into the hood pulled over his head like a little hamster.
the hoodie isn't what gets their attention, though.
it's the fact that the picture is from the band's soundcheck, to the band's twitter, and that steve is sitting on gareth's lap at his drum kit, while wearing the hoodie, and while eddie is leaning down and kissing him. gareth doesn't look put off by it. he's looking somewhere off camera and laughing but his hand is still on steve's waist and steve's is tangled in eddie's wild hair.
it answers all and none of everyone's questions.
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paint it black 🎂🖤🎂
written for the @steddiemicrofic bonus round ‘birthday’ + 290 words in honor of @steddieas-shegoes’ birthday | rated M | pure fluff
Steve’s hands are stained black when he greets Eddie at the front door. His nails, his palms. Eddie follows the trail of dark speckles up Steve’s forearms to the smeared streaks on his apron, the smudge at the tip of his nose. It’s all over his mouth, too, like he tried to eat black lipstick.
“You going for a goth look today, baby?”
Steve put his hands on his hips; presses his lips into a flat black pout. “Food dye is a dangerous business.”
“Oh?” God, he loves when Steve gets all grumpy baker boy on him. He wades into Steve’s space, fingers hooking into his belt loops, pulling him flush and planting a soft kiss behind his ear. “So if you’re covered in food dye…” His tongue traces an inky smear on the side of Steve’s neck, “does that mean I get to eat you?”
“Oh, my god,” Steve rolls his eyes and shoves him, a brilliant blush working up the tight set of his jaw. “The kids are about to be here any minute.”
“Mhmm,” Eddie agrees and wiggles his fingers over the lip of Steve’s jeans.
Steve bats his hands away. “So behave!”
“Fiiiiine.” He lets go and throws up a Vulcan salute. “Scout’s honor.”
“Dude,” Steve despairs, covering his face with both hands. “No. Can’t believe I let you fuck me.”
Eddie cackles, and Steve grabs him by the hand and leads him into the kitchen. There, on the counter, stands a homemade birthday cake, made to look like the 20-sided die from Eddie’s favorite set.
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes. “You made this for me?”
Steve’s pretty pink blush is all the way up his cheeks now. “Yeah.” Jesus fuck. Eddie might cry. “Happy birthday, baby.”
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@steddiemicrofic bonus round: birthday | 290 words | rated: M
happy birthday @steddieas-shegoes!! 💕💕💕
—
It’s not that Eddie expects to fuck Steve within an inch of his life today, but when Steve kisses him gently on the lips and tells him he’s turning in early, he can't help but frown.
Steve's been working extra hours to afford the Metallica tickets he bought Eddie, so Eddie knows he’s tired.
And it’s not like Eddie had a bad birthday! He’s going to see one of his favorite bands in a few months. He got to hang out with his friends and then come home and cuddle on the couch with the love of his life.
He wishes he could do more than cuddle with him, but it’s fine. Maybe they can have slow, sleepy morning sex tomorrow if he wakes up early enough.
He stays downstairs for a little while, not moping, but letting Steve fall asleep without him puttering around and getting ready for bed.
He makes his way upstairs after half an hour, turning the lights and the TV off on the way.
There’s a dim light coming from the bedroom, which makes him bite back a smile. If Steve goes to bed before him, he’ll sometimes leave the bathroom light on even though it makes it harder for him to fall asleep so that Eddie doesn't have to fumble around in the dark.
He opens the door and gets dizzy as all the blood in his body rushes south.
Steve's definitely not asleep.
“Thought I was gonna have to start without you,” Steve says, leaning back against the headboard, one hand moving slowly under the skirt he’s wearing.
“Looks like you already did,” Eddie says, coming closer. “What other presents you got under there for me?”
“Come find out,” Steve says, grin feral.
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do or do not (there is no try)
for the @steddiemicrofic bonus round: birthday | word count: 290 | rating: t | happy birthday @steddieas-shegoes <3
this is also for my stficbingo prompt: lightsaber
***
Vvvrrroomm!
Steve ducks his head as Eddie swings his lightsaber, slaying imaginary Jedis. He’s been doing that since opening his birthday present, squealing excitedly at the toy Steve bought as a joke.
Eddie’s real present is at Steve’s house. He’ll give it to him after his surprise party- new strings for his Warlock and a signed Metallica record that Steve drove three towns over to get. But if Eddie acts half as excited about those as he’s right now, it’ll be worth it.
“Join the Dark Side or perish,” Eddie says in a deep voice, holding the red lightsaber against Steve’s neck.
“No, thanks?” Steve thinks back to the night they met. “And, why do you keep holding deadly objects against my neck?”
Eddie shrugs, withdrawing the lightsaber and spinning it, only to accidentally drop it. “Shit.”
“Not very Jedi Knight of you.”
He sits next close to Steve on the couch. “I shall convince you to join some other way.”��
“How?”
“With my good looks. And my charm.”
“Hmm, done.”
Eddie cackles. “That easy?”
It was that easy for Steve to fall for Eddie, so.
“Yeah, to really seal the deal though, I suggest a kiss.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “A kiss? Seriously?” Steve nods. “Okay. Holy shit.”
And holy shit is right, Steve thinks, as Eddie gives him a short kiss.
They pull away when Eddie’s walkie crackles- Dustin’s signal.
“We’ll continue that after my party.” Eddie taps his finger against Steve’s lip.
“How do you-”
“Robin.” Eddie says, sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll feign surprise. Now c’mon I gotta show Henderson my lightsaber!” He waggles his eyebrows. “And later, I’ll show you my other lightsaber.”
Steve’s face matches the red lightsaber, which Eddie picks up before dragging him outside.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddiemicrofic#stficbingo#once again struggled with the word count but i am nothing if not persistent! and i thought it turned out cute!#stranger things#stranger things fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#monse writes
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@steddielovemonth Day 13: Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask @steddieas-shegoes
It was hard for Eddie sometimes, Valentine's Day. Everyone else getting chocolates and flowers from that special person. His friends going on dates or the people he wishes he could take out having a pretty girl on their arm.
Valentine's Day of 1987 was just the same as any other year. He said goodbye to his Uncle who had a rare morning shift at the plant. He ate his cereal straight from the box and watched the morning cartoons. He didn't bother calling the boys, they all had plans. He heard a knock at the door. He contemplated learning a new song today.
Wait.
He heard a knock at the door?
Eddie got up quickly, maybe one of the gremlins needed driving to someplace for a date, was probably Red.
"Steve?"
"Eddie! Good you didn't have plans!" Steve said letting himself in moving past Eddie.
"Um no I didn't, wait shouldn't you have plans?"
"Why?"
"Cause it's Valentine's Day, I'd have thought Hawkins resident bachelor would have plenty of dates today."
"I wouldn't make plans on your birthday, Eds." Steve said like that was obvious, like that didn't make Eddie heart foolishly flutter. Oh, also, yes he should mention today was also his birthday, another reason the day was hard to spend alone.
"You didn't have to do that, Stevie, I was fine just hanging out here really."
"Eds, I know what it's like spending your birthday alone. Trust me I'd much rather spend today with you than any of the girls that flirt with me to waive rental fees. Anyway, I've got your favourite snacks, and your favourite movies, and Mrs Henderson baked us a cake!"
Steve's smile was infectious and pretty soon Eddie was smiling too, which he never could help in Steve's presence. It was the best birthday and best Valentine's Day to date. Beaten only by the following year when they celebrated their first anniversary.
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@steddielovemonth Day 13: Love is... Showing up when someone doesn’t ask (Prompt by @steddieas-shegoes)
wc: 559 | Rated: T | cw: Food Mention
Tags: Valentine's Day, Date, Steve Harrington Angst (happy ending)
By the time Steve closes up Family Video on Valentine’s Day night, he is feeling pretty sorry for himself.
He thinks 1987 might be the first year since he’d hit adolescence that he is alone. In years past he’d at least had a date to give flowers to, even if it didn’t go much further than that. And, as he twists the lock in just the right way so it will actually lock, he begins to regret his whole holding-out-hope-for-true-love thing.
Because everybody has a date this Valentine’s Day.
Robin is at the drive-in with Vickie. Dustin is on some nerdy radio date with Suzie. His parents are at Enzo’s. Hell, even Keith skipped out on his shift early to go pick up Cindy from the laundromat.
He rattles the door, just to make sure it’s locked when he hears a rustling sound behind him.
Sighing, he turns around and readies himself to tell whoever is showing up late with a return to piss off…
Only it’s Eddie, holding up a brow paper bag with the Benny’s Diner logo emblazoned on the front.
“Brought you dinner,” he smiles all tight lipped and dimpled.
“Thought you were going somewhere with Jeff?” Steve grumbles despite snatching up the bag and catching a delectable whiff of melted cheese.
Eddie shrugs, “Dude bailed on me, man.”
He fiddles with his rings and looks at his shoes for a moment before jumping back to attention with a click of his fingers. Steve narrows his eyes, suspicious as Eddie begins digging in his jeans pocket and produces a handful of change.
“And that’s for a Coke,” he says, offering up the coins.
“Why?” Steve blurts out and his rudeness makes Eddie clam right back up.
He twirls a lock of dark hair around his ring-adorned finger and pulls it across his face.
“Just thought you’d want something to eat...” he explains, his voice quiet and bashful as rocks on his heels, “Valentine’s Day sucks.”
He passes it off with another shrug and looks out at the empty street, his dark eyes illuminated by the nearby street light, the shine of his chains and jewellery shimmering too.
Steve sucks in a breath.
The thing is, Eddie always does this. Shows up.
To make Steve laugh during a dead shift. To bring him coffee in the morning when it’s way too early. To bring him a whole goddamn meal.
He doesn’t have to do any of this for Steve. Not really.
Steve tightens his grip on the paper bag and steps forward, as close as is more typical of Eddie’s usual lack of personal space. He can smell his cologne – it’s strong like he had recently freshened up, perhaps just for Steve...
“Hey Eddie?” he asks softly.
“Yep?” Eddie answers, popping the ‘p’ as he continues to avoid his gaze rather conspicuously.
“Do you want to go on a date with me?”
Eddie looks up, startled.
“Now?” he gapes, wide-eyed.
“Yeah,” Steve smiles, more assured than he felt in months.
“Where?” Eddie frowns.
“I don’t know,” he laughs, “Anywhere you want. Benny’s. Sitting in my car and sharing this burger. Fuck, we can go back to my house and eat cereal for all I care. As long as I’m with you.”
Eddie grins and gestures to the Beemer in a half bow, “Lead the way, sweetheart.”
#this one is a little last minute seeing as THIS GUY was working on the wrong prompt day 🤦♂️#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#steddielovemonth#cw food#food mention
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✨🧡🌙 SEND THIS TO TEN (10) OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING 🌙🧡✨
Aaaahhhh 💛💛💛💛💛
Thank you so much! Your prompt was so fun to do!
I hope you have the brightest day ahead 😊😊😊
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You know how hard this is for me as a bisexual to choose something but 🤯 for the emoji asks
I love you and I love you and I love you a million times more ❤️😘❤️😘
( @steddieas-shegoes so I don’t miss it)
OI. I'm in love with you actually. Go on a date with me PLEASE.
🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?
I licherally struggle in general. But writing anything that's just fluffy is very hard for me. Writing anything that...writing anything is very hard for me. I'm kidding (Unless?) TBH if it doesn't have smut in it, I probably will not write it. A nice safe, sane (? debatable, King of Hell Eddie I am looking at U.) and consensual boning is a guarantee in Worm World.
@steddieas-shegoes let me take you to a wedding or somethin'.
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the unparalleled and precious @flowercrowngods tagged me to post some lines of an unpublished wip with no context
The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot is followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opens, revealing the lucky guy who will have him for the next two hours.
He’s pretty, is the first thing that comes to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, is his face. The pale skin a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that look at him like a deer in the headlights.
Then, the door closes with a bang.
“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembles slightly and Steve’s torn between worry and amusement.
Faintly he can hear the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"
"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorts, and Steve rolls his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thinks he's really funny.
Eddie seems to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"
This is one of those nights when Steve wishes he was smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.
"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."
"How do you know?"
"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupts, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."
Steve wonders if they know he can hear every word they say. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they're not exactly quiet. He just hopes nobody calls the cops.
"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"
Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opens the door and pulls Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They do, closing the door behind them, and then they all look at Steve, who is still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that led him here.
He gives a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."
Eddie blinks at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remains unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitates to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie is limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he feels an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge is unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hits him.
"This is Steve," Gareth introduces, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glances around, hoping for support from the others, but they remain silent. Steve rises from his spot on the bed and approaches Eddie.
As he stands before him, Steve is enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, hold a warm hue that is captivating. Steve flashes a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.
"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declares, though technically, twenty minutes have already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve is willing to make an exception.
tagging with no pressure, only appreciation: @starryeyedjanai, @thefreakandthehair, @hbyrde36, @runninriot, @just-my-latest-hyperfixation, @steddieas-shegoes
#steddie#steddie fanfic#sub eddie week#(at least I hope I get it done until the end of the week)#my writing#wip game
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“I know it sounds weird, but uh, no one we know sleeps well. Some better than others, or they have other people now who can help, but I’m kind of like, a sleep charm or something? That’s what Robin calls it anyways. She didn’t sleep for weeks after Starcourt, and Nancy didn’t sleep for over a month after Barb died. And we just kind of, I don’t know…” He gestures vaguely at the bed, sheets and blankets wrinkled and twisted into themselves from whatever position Steve had been in before Eddie interrupted.
“... Cuddled?” Eddie supplies, the word nearly stuck at the back of his tongue.
Steve nods. “Yeah.”
He stands in place, just as Eddie does, neither man moving yet. “And before any of the Upside Down shit, Tommy had a rough time sleeping and Carol, too. I swear, it’s not like, a weird sex thing. At all. But I know what it’s like to wake up terrified, and alone, and confused, and no one should have to suffer like that. So just, c’mon.”
Eddie watches as Steve climbs under the covers and kicks around, straightening them out, before holding the layers of blankets up to make space for Eddie to join. Every wet dream– no, worse– every tooth rotting romantic dream he’s ever had about Steve slams into him with a fury and before he can think about it, before he can rationalize a way out of this situation that clearly means something more to him than it does Steve, he finds himself sliding between offensively checkered sheets.
What happened to being a runner?
Silently, Eddie lays on his back and stares at the ceiling, unsure of what to do next. Does he initiate? Does Steve? He wants to touch him, to soak up whatever he can because cuddling platonically with a guy he’s had a crush on for years and has probably been in love with for months is better than nothing. But it’s nearly as scary as the nightmares that drove him here in the first place.
Unwanted, nasty thoughts rage in the underbelly of his foggy brain.
I don’t deserve this. Steve doesn’t have to squeeze the broken bits back together like this. He already dragged me out of Hell and now I’m waking him up in the middle of the night to cuddle me back to sleep. What’s wrong with me?
Steve solves his dilemma for him when he shuffles closer and tentatively slides one arm beneath Eddie’s neck, turning to tug him into his chest.
“You’re thinking too loud. Just relax.”
Eddie melts against him, exhausted and pliant, inhaling the scent of Steve’s body wash. He sinks in, nose pressed against the crook of Steve’s neck, and breathes even, steady breaths that counterbalance the ragged desperate attempts from less than an hour ago.
Something about Steve feels like home, and Eddie is only familiar with houses.
read the rest of no better version I could pretend to be tonight on ao3!
so uh, hope this isn't weird buttttt, tagging the people who seemed interested in the extended cut of my september microfic: @plumfondler @cuoredimuschio @stobinesque @steddielations @dreamwatch @vecnuthy @strangersteddierthings @extra-transitional @yournowheregirl @shares-a-vest @steviesummer @thegirlwiththelibrarybag @steddieas-shegoes @sidekick-hero @withacapitalp @ghostevie @hammity-hammer @oliver-sykes @perseus-notjackson @sailing-through-hawkins @aliea82 @elidoesntbreathwee
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#st fic#myfic
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it takes a village
@steddiemicrofic prompt: rest | wc: 387 | cw: teenage parenthood (steve is 16, eddie is 17)
i've been wanting to write my teen dads au for so long and never had any solid ideas for it, but here's something for it finally! i'm not sure if this baby is emma or not, or if i want to make an oc specifically for this verse
wayne hears it before he's even out of the truck, and if he can hear it, then so can the rest of the trailer park, so he has to do something quick before he's got angry neighbors on his doorstep at seven in the morning.
forest hills is no stranger to babies, but everyone has their limits. wayne opens the front door with a wince as he's greeted with the ear piercing wails of his granddaughter. eddie and steve look like they're not fairing any better—steve is leaning on the counter with his head in his arms while a frazzled eddie desperately tries to calm his daughter's cries, pacing back and forth in the kitchen and patting her back, a burp rag thrown over his bare shoulder.
"she's been crying for hours, uncle wayne," eddie says, his voice cracking like he's gonna start crying at any second. "we've tried everything but we can't get her to stop."
steve lifts his head and looks just as desperate as eddie. "she's gonna cry herself sick but nothing's working."
wayne knows that it's killing them. they've made a fuss over every tiny noise this girl has made since bringing her home from the hospital a month ago, like all new parents do. but to be a new parent when you're only teenagers yourself? they deserve a little grace.
november is chilly and the december cold is right around the corner. wayne starts the bmw and lets it warm up as he gently takes the baby from eddie and puts her in her coat.
steve and eddie hover as he does this. understandable, since she's still squalling.
wayne sighs. "you boys need to rest, you look like you're gonna drop any second."
"but you just got off work-"
"no buts, son," wayne tells steve with a hand on his shoulder and a reassuring smile. "lord knows it takes a village. get some sleep."
eddie manages to convince him and after they both press kisses to their daughter's head, they slink back to their room to sleep for who knows how long.
wayne gets the baby in her car seat and pulls out of the drive, the music on a low volume. he huffs a laugh when the crying stops and she's asleep not even half a mile down the road.
taglist: @yournowheregirl @judasofsuburbia @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy @scarcrossdlvrs @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd @sidekick-hero
support my writing 🥐☕
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For @steddieas-shegoes and the @steddiemicrofic flash challenge! Happy birthday lovely!
Prompt: Birthday | Rating: M | Word count: 290 | CW: Semi-public sex
Sometimes, Steve wonders what people would think if they knew. If they were even aware that he - one of, if not the most popular guy at Hawkins High - was a bold faced liar.
If they knew that he exaggerates about his relationship with parents, that he plays up his King persona - but most importantly, he wonders what would happen if they knew the truth about his animosity with one Eddie Munson.
It started off genuine enough, sure, but he has a hard time pinpointing exactly when it all changed, when it slipped out of his control and landed him in Eddie's bed.
Not that he's complaining about it.
Even now, as Eddie shoves two fingers into his mouth with a “Shush, baby. We don't want your lovely subjects to know what's going on, do we?”
Steve shakes his head and whimpers as the fingers push deeper, fully aware of the party still raging downstairs, of his fellow students filling his parents’ home.
He should feel bad about ditching, considering it's his birthday that everyone is there for, but he just can't seem to drum up the guilt with Eddie's dick grinding against his prostate so perfectly.
“Are you sure, Stevie? I know you love it when I get possessive over you. Maybe I should stake my claim in a different way, hm? Maybe I should send the people's beloved birthday boy back downstairs with an ass full of cum.”
Steve whines and pushes his hips back, he's so fucking close.
“They'd all see the wet spot on your jeans and wonder who got to tap this beautiful ass. Or maybe they already know. What d’you say, should we let everyone know exactly who owns you, pretty thing?”
#very loosely filling the brief#i wish i had time to do more but work has me so 🙃🙃🙃🙃#i do cherish you though and i hope you had a great day!!!#steddie#steddie fic#joey writes#steddiemicrofic
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