scaredbisexual

[scaredbisexual]

Eddie getting Steve’s teeth marks tattooed on him

[scaredbisexual]

AU where after a fight with his dad, Steve’s entire life implodes when he’s told that Hopper is his real father.

This just wrecks Steve. He knows that his dad is disappointed in him and that he has to work harder to make him proud, but to find out that it was impossible? That the reason it felt like his dad hated him was because he did? And - and Hopper hates him too?

It never occurs to Steve that maybe Hopper didn’t know. All he can think about is how easy it was for Hopper to adopt El, so it’s not that he didn’t want kids. He just didn’t want Steve in his life.

He doesn’t tell anyone about it for a long time - not even Robin - and then one day blurts it out. To Callahan.

Callahan says, “You know, Hopper is like a father-figure to me so-“

“Hopper is my father.”

And then Steve just breaks down in tears and Callahan thinks to himself that there was probably a better way to start off telling this kid to stop trespassing.

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Eddie: I'm going to hold your hands when I say this to you, Steve.

Eddie took his hands in his. He opened his mouth and closed it again, frowning.

Steve: What is it? . . . If you're about to tell me that Robin and I are too close -

Eddie: *gaping* Your hands are so big and soft. . .

Steve: That's what you wanted to say?!

Eddie: *hissing* No, no. I completely forgot what I was going to say.

Steve: Uh. . .can I have my hands back?

Eddie: No. . .do you want them back?

Steve: *blushing* No.

[scaredbisexual]

asking myself “is this really who i want to be forever?” a lot lately

[scaredbisexual]

Steve taking a gender studies course originally to show he’s a good ally. Wants to be better for Robin and the women in his life.

What he doesn’t expect is to love it and for it to destroy his general perception of the world.

“But, but, Robs,” he’s holding his textbook and following Robin around their small apartment. “Did you realize orgasms were gendered? And that’s probably where the dumb ‘women don’t orgasm’ bullshit originated from? Orgasms,” he tosses his arm up in frustration. “How stupid. Also, I never realized women are socialized to be perfect. No wonder you have anxiety.” Robin takes a long sip of her tea while watching Steve. “It literally says right here,” he slams the book down on the counter and points. “Gender is a social construct. We do gender.”

“Yep,” she shrugs.

Steve narrows his eyes, trying to analyze her response, or lack there of… when it hits him.

“You’ve been saying that, huh?” She nods. “For a while. And I wasn’t listening. Shit.” He groans, dropping his forehead into the book. “I’m no better than a man.”

She steps closer, rubbing circles into his back sipping her tea. “But now you know you were just doing man.”

Eddie, who was reading a magazine and being a lazy bum on the stobin couch, perks up. “What men are you doing? Are you taking volunteers?”

[scaredbisexual]

Do you think people who are virgin should write smut? I feel like most of them don’t even know what they’re writing and just write what they think sex is

the implication this ask suggests that people who write about murders, cannibalism, politics, magic, royalty au, sci-fi, wars, supernatural, time travel, medieval era, werewolves, vampires, mermaids or goblins must be murderers, cannibals, presidents, wizards, royalties, astronauts, ghost hunters, soldiers, time travelers, knights, werewolves, vampires, mermaids or goblins in real life is so funny to me

[scaredbisexual]

Eddie has bruises on his hips. Steve inadvertently sees them one day. He knows how to get those kinds of bruises because he caused those kinds of bruises on girls.

Eddie had sex.

With someone.

That thought haunts him for days.

He knows he's not being homophobic but then he doesn't understand why his skin itches every time he remembers what he saw.

That only means one thing: someone did a good job on Eddie. It was good cause Eddie looked satisfied and serene in the past days.

When he thinks he has forgotten the matter, Eddie goes to Indianapolis for a few days. Eddie's absence drives his curiosity, and he keeps wondering if he could treat the boys just as well as he did the girls in high school.

And then at night, he starts imagining what things he could do to make the boys whine with pleasure.

Eddie returns with new marks on his hips. Steve can't stand it, so he gets drunk like he would in high school, Eddie takes it upon himself to pick him up and take him home.

"I could do better than him, Eddie," stammers Steve.

"Steve..."

Steve staggers to stand in front of Eddie, who can smell the vodka on his breath.

"I'd fuck you real good. I know I can do it."

Eddie doesn't respond for a few seconds. He feels his whole body shaking.

"I know you could, Stevie. God, I know you could."

"I've been thinking about it a lot. Let me do it, please."

Their lips brush, but Eddie doesn't let him move forward, even though he's dying to.

Eddie strokes Steve's hair gently, Steve closes his eyes and opens them in time with Eddie's hand, Eddie pulls his hair to pull his face away from him. Steve looks at him with tears in his eyes and his cheeks flushed.

"You're going to be the death of me, Steve Harrington."

[scaredbisexual]

1984 is not Steve Harrington’s year.

Not only does he find out that his girlfriend doesn’t actually love him, but somehow the creepy monster thing that united his now ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend, came back in the form of some type of monster dog.

The highlight of his year might actually be befriending a nerdy middle schooler who introduced him to said monster dog - which he named Dart of all things... something to do with a candy bar.

He groans at the thought as the music from downstairs carries into his room. For some reason, Tommy Hagan decided to temporarily ignore the fact that he ditched Steve for the new keg king, Billy Hargrove, who managed to give Steve something else to worry about while literal Hell crawled its way into Hawkins, in favor of throwing a New Year's Eve party in the Harrington residence.

Typical for the year Steve's having. Why not end it horribly too?

He glances at the clock, relieved that it's already somewhat close to midnight. If it weren't for the noise, he would consider trying to sleep through this one. Instead, he lays back on his bed and hopes that no one tries to disturb him.

As if the universe can hear his thoughts, and then curse them, the door to his bedroom swings open.

Steve sits up with a huff and frowns at the person.

A guy with medium length curly hair and doe eyes stares back at him with a big smile that screams chaos.

"Sorry, dude," Steve says, "Bedroom is off limits. Go hookup, smoke, or whatever somewhere else."

Instead of leaving, the guy closes the door behind him and locks it.

Steve scoots back on the bed, hand reaching back to wrap around the nail bat he leaves behind his nightstand.

The dude raises his hands in mock surrender, silver rings glinting in the light streaming in from Steve's window - blinds open enough so he can make sure no one does anything weird in his pool. "Listen, man, I'm not here to hurt you or anything. Although you might hurt me when you hear why I'm here."

There's something about his voice that sounds familiar to Steve when it suddenly hits him - all the yelling and stomping around on tabletops. "You're Eddie Munson."

Eddie smiles and bows dramatically. "Guilty as charged."

Steve's frown deepens, and for a fleeting moment he thinks Dustin would really like the guy. "So, why would I hurt you if I hear you out?"

"Because, Steve," Eddie draws out his name as if it has a deeper meaning, "I was downstairs thinking about what a wonderful year I've had, and I decided that I might as well start the year with a little chaos."

Steve's grip tightens around the bat in case he's some sort of satanic serial killer or something, although his gut tells him that he shouldn't be scared of the man. "What do you mean by chaos?"

There's a strange glint in Eddie's eye when he shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on the feet as if he wants to move closer to Steve but has decided to plant himself by his door. "I mean... I came to this party to sell my supply and after my whole lunchbox was cleaned out, I started thinking about who I should kiss at midnight. Or more precisely, who would be the worse option, or rather, the option that would bring the most-"

"Chaos. Yeah, I got that part," Steve cuts him off.

Eddie's smile changes to something genuine for a moment as he comments, "Wow, Steve Harrington is actually listening to me."

Steve rolls his eyes, grip loosening on the bat. "I'd rather you not stand on my desk to get my attention." To Steve's surprise, Eddie actually laughs in response and pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his smile. And to Steve's much greater surprise, his heart starts beating a little faster and he finds it harder to not smile back at him. "So, chaos?" Steve prompts.

"Right," Eddie says, rocking on his feet again, "Chaos." He ducks his head for a moment as if hyping himself up for the next thing he's going to say, which is when Steve entirely releases his grip on the bat, realizing that Eddie is more scared of him. "So, I thought, to start the year off with the most chaos, I would choose someone to kiss that would bring the most chaos. And I thought, why not the host of this party?"

Steve frowns. "Tommy's downstairs."

Eddie mirrors his frown. "You're not hosting?"

"Why would I be in my room if I'm hosting?"

"Why would the party be in your house if you're not hosting?"

It suddenly hits Steve. "Wait, you want to kiss me?"

Eddie takes a step back, hovering even closer to the door than he was before. "Consensually, of course."

It takes a moment for Steve to fully process what is being asked. "You think I'm the worst option to kiss?"

"That's what you're asking?" Eddie asks, trailing off to mutter something like, "The fragile ego of athletes, I swear."

"I got dumped this year. Of course my ego is low."

Eddie smiles bashfully. "Sorry, my uncle always tells me I'm not as quiet as I think I am." And there's something about Eddie's cheeks that are slightly flushed, the strand of hair he starts tugging at again, and the way he can't stop bouncing as if he's buzzing with energy and nerves that makes him so...

"Yes," Steve blurts out suddenly. For a moment, he wonders if the mindf- mind fly? mind... whatever evil thing from a few weeks ago has possessed him.

"Yes what?" Eddie asks sounding genuinely confused. As Steve stands up to look out his blinds and shut them, Eddie rambles, "Yes, I'm not as quiet as I think I am? Or yes, you're about to punch me, and I'm going to finally figure out how it felt when you got your face bashed in a few weeks ago?"

Steve rolls his eyes before holding up both of his hands, mimicking Eddie's pose when he first came into the room. "Yes, I'll kiss you."

It's as if Eddie has forgotten he's asked the question the way his jaw drops, and he stares at Steve like he's said the most confusing thing he's ever heard. Which... to be fair... is highly likely.

"You want to kiss me?"

Steve takes a small step closer to Eddie. "I want to give you your chaos."' When Eddie doesn't look convinced, Steve takes a step closer to him, hand running through his hair as he continues, "Who knows, maybe it'll give me good luck or something for next year by cancelling out the chaos from this year."

Eddie nods. "Okay. You're giving me your chaos. Yeah. That makes sense."

"And you're taking my chaos away," Steve agrees, trying to tell himself that this is a rational decision. "This makes sense."

"You're not going to beat me up?" Eddie asks, risking a small step away from the door.

Steve shakes his head. "Seems like a bad way to start the year, don't you think?"

Eddie nods as Steve steps closer to him, slowly, as if not to startle him away. "You know, I thought just asking you would be chaotic enough as is and then I could run away and pretend you hallucinated or something when you tried to beat me up."

"Should've asked Hargrove then," Steve says, cocking his head to the side. "Does that mean you don't actually want to kiss me?"

Eddie swallows and shakes his head. "I didn't say that."

Just as Steve gets in front of Eddie, he hears people downstairs counting down from ten. "Good," Steve says, "Because there isn't enough time to find someone else."

Eddie scoffs, the countdown now at eight, "That's not true for you."

"Maybe, but I'm not really looking to find anyone else right now. Are you?" Five.

Eddie smiles and takes a step forward. "No." Three.

Steve reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear. "Good." One.

Steve's not really sure who moves first or if they move together, but the yells of, "Happy New Year" are drowned out as Eddie's lips meet his in a kiss that feels more desperate than Steve expected. He's not sure why they're kissing as if the countdown was for the end of the world, but he really doesn't care.

It's only when Steve's gets a little carried away, Eddie's back slams against Steve's door with a thud that's loud enough to alert anyone that something's happening in Steve's room, that Steve breaks away with a gasp, seeking the air Eddie's stolen from him. He wonders if - hopes - it's the chaos he's taken.

"Happy New Year," Steve whispers, hands cupping Eddie's face while Eddie's are tangled in the mess he's made of Steve's hair. He's not sure when either of those things happened.

"Happy fucking New Year, Steve," Eddie mutters, hands slowly dropping from his hair.

Steve's hands hold onto Eddie's face a little tighter for a moment, and he sees the moment a bit of fear sparks in Eddie's eyes. Steve quickly shakes his head. "No, I'm not about to beat you up. It's just... I kind of slammed you against the door a little hard there, and if someone else is up here and they see you..."

"Chaos," Eddie fills in with a nod, "And not the good kind."

"Yeah," Steve sighs, "Not the good kind." He glances to his window where the blinds are firmly shut - thank you Jonathan for teaching him that lesson - and down at the locked doorknob before looking back at Eddie. He glances at his lips momentarily before blurting out, "Stay with me."

Eddie's jaw drops, mouth opening slightly in shock.

Steve steps back, hands reluctantly leaving Eddie's face. "Stay until everyone clears out at least. No ulterior motive."

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets and moves back into Steve's space. "What if I want there to be an ulterior motive?" He tilts his head down and gives Steve a case of lethal puppy dog eyes. "Fully take your chaos away, remember?"

Steve is absolutely sure that this in no way will take away the chaos of his previous year and will likely only invite questions, confusion, and further chaos into 1985.

"Yeah, I remember," Steve says, pulling Eddie into another desperate kiss.

Maybe Eddie was onto something about starting the year with a little chaos. And maybe 1985 will be his year.

(i accidentally wrote a tiny epilogue later in the tags that i really like)

[scaredbisexual]

you read stuff on wattpad for shit and giggles where most of the fics there are reader-inserted ones written in 1st person pov where y/n is a barely legal white girl with blonde hair and blue “orbs” who’s so smol and fragile that she’s dependent entirely on this morally questionable guy who’s killing people for a living but for some reason happens to have a soft spot for her.

you read real actual literature on archive of our own where it’s two middle aged men, who are each other’s sworn enemies, with tragic past, trauma and strong homoerotic tension. and while they’ve made each other bleed, killed each other’s friends and loved ones out of jealousy / possessiveness, lied and betrayed and manipulated, the rawness, depth, complexity and slow burn will keep you up all night, haunt you during your day and possibly change your life forever. and also the sex isn’t just smut. the sex is poetry that puts Shakespeare to shame

[scaredbisexual]

man i really don't think so but okay i guess

[scaredbisexual]

rose tyler hated her shitty job, wore £1 mascara, charity shop sweatpants, boxed hair bleach, couldn't keep her room clean, hated rich people, was called a slag by the queen, constantly chat shit about her mum, slapped a guy that made her mum cry, astonished herself when she could do maths, 19 year old runaway, and the most beautiful woman on my tv 2005 - 2006

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me, unloading a fitted sheet from the dryer: *squinting* what's that you've got in your mouth

fitted sheet: nothing :)))))))

me, prying open its twisted jaws: na-ah!!! give it to me RIGHT now!!

fitted sheet: *resentfully spits out a wad of 3 very damp dishtowels, a pillowcase, and a pathetically sodden washcloth*

[scaredbisexual]

modern day wayne munson would have a youtube channel dedicated to being the internets dad and showing how to do normal maintenance on your car/around your house. i think he’d also like show ppl how to do taxes or go grocery shopping. stuff like that.

every once in a while eddie’s in his videos to help out, and steve (who uses those videos to live functionally as a semi on again off again homeless person) loses all braincells when those rare videos come out and he has to watch them ab 5 times to finally focus on the advice the internets uncle wayne is giving out

[scaredbisexual]

Steve hates the dentist.

Tommy knows this because his dad is a dentist. His grandpa was a dentist and his brother is a dentist, and Tommy is currently at school studying to become a dentist.

There are only two constants in this world: Hagan boys grow into dentists and Steve Harrington is utterly and completely terrified of the dentist.

He knows this because he has been witness to the complete meltdown that has happened before appointments. He has watched Mrs Harrington drag her son into the chair for everything from cleanings to braces.

And he also knows that the only way to calm Steve down is to hold his hand. Tommy knows this because that was his job.

Steve never had an appointment that Tommy wasn’t present for even after he got too old to cry, even after they had their falling out.

Tommy was there.

With all the change - with graduation and college, with the earthquake and Carol moving out of town with her sister - he welcomes the stability. It’s good to know that some things don’t change.

He’s working the summer at his dad’s practice, familiarizing himself with insurance forms when Steve comes in. Tommy’s been waiting for this since he saw his name on the schedule this morning.

He tells himself that it has nothing to do with Steve or with holding his hand and all to do with bragging rights. Tommy’s not the one working at the video rental, right? Tommy’s not the one that was left behind.

Tommy doesn’t even get to say anything because his dad’s coming to the window asking, “No Mr. Munson this time?”

What?

“He’s coming,” Steve answers like that’s normal. Like it’s a part of the script. “He’s looking for a parking spot. Your lot is still the worst, Mr H.”

Steve and his dad chitchat but Tommy barely hears it, watching through the glass in the front door as Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson walks in.

He watches Eddie follow Steve back. He watches him take his spot and wince through the bone-crushing grip Steve keeps on his hand. He watches as his dad calls, “Tom, come in here and tell me what you see.”

He sees himself, being left behind.

[scaredbisexual]

usually when you have a stomach bug your body is like yes sir we'll get this punk out of here, 48 hours tops. then you get a cold and your body is like I dunno ... between a few hours and eleven months ... maybe a week minimum .... you gotta understand we're short staffed

[scaredbisexual]

lately ive been bedridden with a terrible case of i dont wanna

[scaredbisexual]

mentally taking a drag of my mental cigarette because I don’t smoke but life has been very smokable lately