#and robin should never be sexualized ever

[ms-all-sunday]

personal experience time for prosperity, so i've mentioned that one piece is the reason I'm okay with the fact I'm bisexual now, which i thought it was self evident why that was but I'll explain because i feel like it gives perspective on why im so pro-sexualized/the narrative seeing this character as attractive (when appropriate obviously and i think op does a good job of doing that for the most part) for nami/robin (mainly talking about my experience with nami)

so previously ive had issues with never being attracted to female fictional characters, (I've been attracted to real human women very briefly throughout my life. i just dont hang out with a lot of people and the majority of them arent girls) and that was a problem even though i knew I was able to be attracted to girls I didn't feel like i was able to identify with that part of myself, (as a trans man, I've always felt very pushed into wlw spaces which I think isn't good and even though I have alters that identify as women we've never as a whole ever thought we were wlw) the problem was, when youre asked to be attracted to fictional women 99% of that is either objectification or look this character is hot! and then her actual character is nonexistent. which is a problem for me, because in my experience strong attraction comes from both how much i relate to someone and how much I admire them, so if I'm at large completely unable to relate to female characters, it puts me in a really fucking tough spot and i end up never being able to explore attraction like that in a fictional space. you see, you could point out to me that there's wlw characters and experiences that could've helped me? which, I'll point you to the fact I'm a man and secondly, I tried that. but I'm a man and unfortunately while I can appreciate gay girls in fiction i don't connect with them like that.

where this changed for me was a year ago when I watched one piece and then immediately was blasted by girls who were very obviously seen as attractive but were some of the best written female characters i had ever fucking seen since having that crush on that original character,

and there were men in the context of the fiction that were attracted to nami for the exact same reasons I was ??? (sanji/zoro in arlong park) and these men were being defined by having a crush on or being attracted to nami, and she was the one in control (another reason I couldnt connect with m/f couples: i wanted to be held by a girl and taken care of by a girl not the other way around)

and she struggled with mental health like i did so of course i could relate to her! and i was being encouraged by nami herself to see her as attractive so i didn't feel creepy like i did all of the other times (being a man and being attracted to women and inherently feeling creepy was a huge issue for me) and she was seen as a whole person, a whole entire beautiful person. the fact she was so complicated and detailed made her more attractive, and the fact i could connect and relate to her and have loving her mean that I love aspects of myself i couldnt expect?? I just loved her and i was attracted to her and I couldn't control it so it had me let go of my fear without me even realizing it was happening.

i literally havent felt creepy expressing my attraction to women since.

i simply needed to figure out how to be attracted to women- nami- because i was attracted to her so immediately and so intensely that being attracted to her meant i immediately became more articulate about it because i loved her so much it burst out of me.

the fact people saw nami as attractive was both good for me, someone who finds her attractive and struggled with expressing my attraction to women and was only attracted to fictional women who were entire people!, but also allowed me to feel loved myself as a person with mental health issues similar to hers.

basically, TLDR, i think viewing female fictional characters as attractive is fine as long as they're entire people who aren't reduced to their relationship to men, and is really fucking good actually both on the level that people get to see themselves as attractive and that it rightfully sends the message that women are more attractive when they are understood as whole people with lives and flaws (that can exist outside of traditional heterosexuality).

[depresssant]

Shades Of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader - part l, part ll

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story

warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc

you want to die.

you always do.

staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.

"you? i should give my money to you?"

"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"

"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."

that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.

"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—

"stop right there!"

damn it.

you think too soon.

a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.

"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"

gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"

"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.

"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."

you do know. you wish you wouldn't.

"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."

"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."

"are you sure—"

"completely."

please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.

"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."

"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."

"of course."

you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.

that is the summary of your life.

taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.

the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.

that's exactly what happens.

your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.

leaving you in your own pile of misery.

it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.

gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.

the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.

tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.

even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.

"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"

your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."

"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."

"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."

an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.

"excuse me?"

you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.

zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"

"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.

"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.

the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...

well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"

jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."

that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."

you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.

tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."

"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.

"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."

"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.

your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"

"let's be friends!"

"no."

"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.

"no."

"too bad! you're my friend now."

"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."

his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.

tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"

"really now?"

"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"

... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.

"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."

this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."

what the hell are you doing?

the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?

nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.

"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."

there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.

"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."

"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"

"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"

you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤

ding!

your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.

mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.

a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.

telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.

after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."

"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.

honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?

you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.

"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.

you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."

"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"

your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."

you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?

"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."

and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.

ewwww

this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series

um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.

"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."

Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.

"Okay!"

"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.

"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"

Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.

"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.

"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.

"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"

"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."

Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?

"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.

"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"

"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."

"You like men?!" Eddie asked.

"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.

"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.

"In the hospital," Steve replied.

"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.

"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.

"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.

"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.

"Well, yes, but - "

"Did he say yes?"

"Again, yes, however - "

"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.

"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.

"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.

"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.

"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.

"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."

"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.

"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.

"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.

"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.

"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."

"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"

"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."

Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.

"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.

"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.

"Done!"

Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.

"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"

TWO DAYS LATER. . .

Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.

"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."

"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."

Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.

"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"

Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.

"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.

"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"

"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.

"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.

"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.

"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.

"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.

"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."

"I would never let you fall."

Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.

"Oh, no," Eddie said.

"What?"

"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.

"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah, I am in deep - "

Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.

"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"

"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"

Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.

[rogueddie]

A gay bar is the last place Steve ever thought he'd be, yet here he sits.

He keeps looking over to Robin- not too much, just enough to keep an eye on her. Make sure she's still having fun. Although, he's sure he doesn't need to be worrying.

The girl who'd caught Robins eye is small, feminine. She looks like a sweetheart and she keeps getting Robin flustered. They're cute together, clearly into eachother, and Steve couldn't be happier.

Even sat alone, feeling completely out of place and a little uncomfortable, seeing Robin able to flirt with someone so openly is… he just feels relieved.

He should have thought to bring her here sooner.

"Hey there." The man smiles when Steve flinches. It's a soft smile, kind. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, uh, I don't- I mean, uh-"

"Woah, don't panic. It's just a dance, right? You look uncomfortable is all and seeing you sat alone with your big fucking puppy dog eyes is just sad." He gently nudges Steves chin up when he tries to look down, feeling awkward. His finger lingers a little, brushing along his jaw. "You don't wanna have a fun night out? I won't be offended if you say no."

And, ok, Steve's a little tipsy. He's sure he'd never agree if he were sober- it wouldn't have felt fair. The guy is clearly attracted to him, not even trying to hide the way he's eyeing him.

But Steve's buzz is more annoying than pleasant and dancing does sound fun. So he agrees, accepts the hand offered and lets the guy pull him into the crowd.

The guy keeps his distance. Anytime the crowd jolts Steve toward him, he steps back the same amount, keeping a solid foot between them. But he's grinning, yelling jokes over the music, unabashedly dancing like an idiot.

It's great, it's fun. Steve can't stop grinning, stomach starting to ache with how much he's been laughing.

Eventually, a slower song comes on, stronger sexual undertones. The guy (Eddie, he'd leant in to tell Steve when asked, explaining that he knew Steve because they used to be in the same year as in Hawkins) shrugs, pulling an exaggerated face that screams 'what-can-you-do'. He's turning away.

But Steve grabs his wrist, Eddie looking back with raised eyebrows.

"This alright then, pretty boy?" He asks after stepping in close. His hands rest low on his hips.

Steve nods, flushing. He automatically puts his hands on his shoulders, letting Eddie lead him through a weirdly intimate sort of slow dance. And Steve is suprised to find himself… into it? He's not sure.

He feels less tipsy, so he can't blame the easy blushes or the way his stomach flips on the alcohol. There's no excuse for how he's started looking at Eddie either, paying a little too much attention to the way he moves, how his hands feel when they slowly start to wonder.

He gently brushes Eddies hair out the way without thinking, tucking it behind his ear so he can see the tattoo on his neck. Eddie tilts his head slightly, baring his neck a little more. When he glances up, Eddie is watching him, curiously.

"Hate to sound pressumptious," he drawls, taking a small step forward so their chests are pressed together, "but it feels like you're making moves on me, big boy."

"What if I am? What happens then?"

"Maybe I'd ask if you're sober enough to drive or if we need to call a cab." He leans back a little when Steve moves to kiss him. He hums, smirking. "Or maybe I'd ask for your number. I'm a classy lady, Harrington; what if I don't put out on the first date?"

"I've never said no to a challange."

Eddie barks out a laugh, loud enough to startle some of the people swaying beside them. "As if."

"What? You're like... pretty."

"Pretty," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "People know I'm a fag, Steve. Even being seen with me like we're 'just friends' would fucking ruin you."

"Your point?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna put money on that?"

Eddie eyes him for a second, his derision melting into curiosity. "You want to make a bet on whether you'll date me or not?"

"Why not? One of us wins money in a bet, we both score a date, and-"

"I thought you were straight."

"Yeah, me too. But I don't think straight guys think about you like I am, right now."

Eddie steps back, considering. It's a long, tense, moment before he finally sticks his hand out. Steve quickly shakes his hand, grinning.

"You've got yourself a deal."

[steddieas-shegoes]

sold out, one night only

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event for Black Friday using 'one day night only'

rated m | 2980 words | cw: implied and referenced sexual content | tags: modern era, pop star steve, rock star eddie, semi-famous corroded coffin, exes to lovers, getting back together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

The poster is huge, takes up most of the board in the club announcing new events. It’s surprisingly simple for something so large.

‘One Night Only’ accompanied by a picture of Steve Harrington, recently out queer pop icon, and a date and time.

Tonight is the one night only.

Eddie stares at it, kind of wishes he didn’t feel like sobbing, and then books it out of the club.

If he’s gonna make it across town before Steve’s show is done, he’s gotta hope for the least amount of traffic he’s ever seen and a lot of luck. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, the show was delayed enough that he’s still on stage singing.

He manages to find an Uber only a block away, offers them a 50% tip if they can get him to the arena in less than five minutes, and leans his head back against the seat.

~~~~

Four years ago, when Steve followed Eddie and his band to Chicago, neither of them expected much to happen. Corroded Coffin was small town good, but they quickly found that they weren’t quite what record labels were looking for.

A small indie label from San Francisco was interested, though.

So they packed up and moved to California, and to celebrate the first recording session, they went to a karaoke bar and all took turns singing songs that you’d never expect them to.

Steve took a turn singing a Harry Styles song and it was game over.

The whole bar went silent until he was done, and then it was pandemonium as people rushed him as he got off the stage, telling him he should be famous, and that he had the voice of an angel, and that he should try to sign a record deal.

And Eddie knew he could sing; he’d heard him in the shower and the car plenty.

There was just something about seeing him on stage and knowing that Steve was meant for more that really cut into his heart and made him bleed out on that bar floor.

It was the beginning of the end for them that night.

Eddie pushed him away. Steve stopped fighting it.

Steve signed with a huge company out of New York and moved before Eddie even realized he ruined everything.

He hasn’t spoken to him since, not even the one time Dustin had to have surgery and requested everyone be back in Hawkins in case something went wrong. He was being dramatic about leg splints, but they did it anyway.

Eddie caught one glimpse of Steve walking out of the Henderson home the night that Dustin got to leave the hospital, but he didn’t stop him.

Corroded Coffin is big enough to do festival circuits, even playing on the main stage for some of them.

Steve Harrington is big enough to go to Grammy parties and duet with Sabrina Carpenter.

And Eddie is stupid enough to think he can get backstage to apologize to him for being dumb enough to let him walk away.

~~~~

When he arrives at the arena, he’s told he needs a ticket to enter. This is a fact he knew before getting here, but one he chose to ignore in hopes that he might be able to bribe someone with his romantic story.

Unfortunately, the middle aged man who reminds him a lot of Wayne couldn’t care less about his need to tell Steve he loves him.

“You and the 20,000 others in the audience, bud,” the man says. “No ticket, no entrance.”

“Okay, I know you probably hear this often, but I swear he knows me. He’d let me in,” Eddie explains, but the guy is somehow even less impressed. “Oh! Wait. I have proof.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and opens his photos. The album named ‘Stevie ♥️’ is still in his favorites, even though Robin made him promise he’d delete it after the last time she visited. He may have promised he would, but he never said when.

It’s hundreds of photos of them together, mostly selfies, personal pictures they took on dates or in bed or on their road trip or-

“I told you to delete those.”

Eddie spins around at Robin’s voice. She’s standing near the set of doors at the end of the long line of doors, two security guards flanking her.

“And I will. Eventually.” Eddie walks towards her, ignoring the man telling him he needs to leave.

“What are you doing here?” She asks even though she has to know.

She’s his friend even though she’s Steve’s platonic soulmate. She isn’t being mean on purpose. She’s just being protective of both of them.

“Robin…” he starts.

She holds up a hand. “If I take you backstage, will this be a one night only thing or a start to forever thing? Because honestly, I don’t think he can take seeing you if it’s only for you to leave right after. He’s barely-” She cuts herself off, eyes widening.

“He’s what?” Eddie pushes, needing to know what she was gonna say.

She sighs. He knew he’d get her to give in easily.

“He’s barely holding it together as it is,” she admits. “I had to bribe him to get on stage tonight.”

“Bribe him? For this show?”

“And the last dozen or so. He’s tired. He-” She sighs again, heavier. “He misses you.”

“If he misses me, then he should call. Or text. Send a carrier pigeon.” Eddie doesn’t mean for the words to bite, but he can’t help the way he feels and he knows he’s safe with Robin. She won’t take it personally or let him stew in it for too long. “It’s not like he doesn’t have access to me if he really wants it.”

“Eddie. You made it very clear you didn’t want to hear from him ever again.”

“I made it very clear that I loved him too much to hold him back. He was the one who pushed it to this,” Eddie tries.

He doesn’t succeed. Robin is shaking her head, laughing with disbelief.

“You two are made for each other. I’ll bring you backstage, but if I see a single tear shed in anything other than happiness, I’m calling Jeff and telling on you.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. Calling Jeff isn’t quite the threat it used to be, not since Jeff got himself a very serious girlfriend who keeps him busy. Even if it was, Robin knows Jeff’s just gonna nod along, give Eddie a sad look, and move on.

He follows Robin through the door she came through, waving at the guard who was giving him a hard time– “he’s just doing his job, Eddie” – and feels his throat catch on his next breath when he can hear the beat of the music.

Steve’s pop rock sound isn’t necessarily Eddie’s favorite type of music, but he did stay up until midnight for the release of his debut album. It’s Steve. What’s he gonna do? Not listen to it?

His voice is just this side of raspy, like there’s a scratch of his throat when he hits the lower register his voice will allow. He almost sounds like when Eddie would-

“Alright. He’s got two songs left and an encore. Encore is usually just one song, but this is a special night so he may do a bonus from his new album. Don’t touch anything,” Robin sends him into the green room, waving off the security person who is standing at the door. “Don’t make me regret letting you in here. And don’t hurt yourself.”

“Jesus, Robbie, I’m not a child. I’m not gonna hurt myself-”

“I didn’t mean physically.” She gives him a sad look. “I care about you, too.”

Eddie’s shoulders fall as he breathes out. He didn’t realize how tense he’d been. Robin hugs him and moves to the door.

“I’ll make sure you guys have some privacy for a bit, but we do have a tight schedule. Security’s only here while the crew packs up,” she explains. Eddie nods. He knows the drill. He may not be an international pop star, but he deals with the ins and outs of venues often enough.

Robin leaves and the only sound is the bass thumping of Steve’s last song. Eddie looks around at how bare the room is. Usually, Corroded Coffin has to share a green room with a few other bands unless they pull off headlining the main stage. Those rooms are usually cluttered, crews and musicians constantly coming and going, leaving trash and guitar picks behind. The only thing in this room that would hint at Steve using it is a bag of half-eaten white cheddar popcorn on the table next to an empty water bottle and a mug of what looks like green tea.

Steve’s a big enough star to make absurd requests for backstage, but it’s clear he doesn’t. Eddie isn’t surprised. Steve’s never really been one to ask for things that would benefit him.

He hears the screaming, knows Steve’s just left the stage. He’s probably standing nearby, hiding behind curtains or stacks of speakers, maybe even in plain sight.

“Wait!” Robin’s voice is right outside the door.

The door opens.

Steve’s there, breathless, sweaty, hot as hell.

“Steve, you still have a song,” another woman in khakis and a polo shirt is rushing up to him, waving a clipboard in his face.

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice is rough when he speaks. Eddie can tell it’s more from emotion than the nearly two hour set list he just performed.

“Steve.” Eddie is waiting for Steve to move, for anyone to move. He can’t.

“Steve, you need to go back onstage.”

Eddie has his arms full of Steve before anyone can respond to the woman just trying to do her job. She looks like she’s a tech manager, but usually they wear all black, and Eddie doesn’t know all there is to know about an international superstar performing a concert even though he does know all there is to know about Steve.

He knows that he prefers earl gray tea with real sugar, not the green tea with honey that’s sitting on the coffee table. He knows that his favorite treats are the mini Kit Kats– “not the regular ones, they taste different, I swear!”-- not popcorn that gets stuck in his teeth for hours. He knows that he likes making places feel like home no matter how temporary he’s there, and there’s not a single item in this room that makes it feel lived in.

The woman seems to give up on getting Steve back on stage, and he’s pretty sure he has Robin to thank for it.

He has Steve in his arms for the first time in way too long. He isn’t wasting a second of it thinking about anyone else.

Steve’s sweat is soaking through Eddie’s shirt already, but he doesn’t really care. He used to love having Steve’s sweat on him; It meant he was doing something right.

He knows a reunion isn’t this easy, and any second now, Steve’s gonna pull away and yell at him, and they’ll fight and Eddie will let it happen because he deserves it and-

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Steve sobs against his neck, breath tickling his skin as his lips brush against him in an almost-kiss.

Suddenly, Eddie knows that Steve planned this. This whole sold out, one night only show was only so Eddie would come see him.

Eddie should be pissed.

Steve could have just fucking called him. Texted him. Sent a carrier pigeon!

But he’s got Steve in his arms and it’s always been pretty hard to be pissed at him when he’s pressed perfectly against his chest.

Robin is clearing the room and cursing Steve for making her clean up his messes, but Eddie can hear the fondness in her voice. She wouldn’t bother giving them time alone together if she didn’t want them to have it.

“Robin said I shouldn’t do it. She said you wouldn’t show.” Tears are falling from Steve’s eyes on Eddie's shirt. “I swore you would. She thought I was crazy.”

“You are crazy,” Eddie laughs, squeezing his arms to pull him in tighter. “Planning something this big in the hopes that I’d come to a pop concert is fucking insane, Stevie.”

“But you did.” Steve leans back and looks at him, watery smile enough to make Eddie feel like he could melt into the floor. “I knew you would.”

Eddie wants to kiss him, wants to ignore everything that went wrong and everything they need to talk about, wants to take Steve apart in this room and make it feel like home because Steve didn’t do that on his own. He doesn’t think he’s made any place feel like home in a long time.

“You put a lot of faith in a guy who let you go,” Eddie whispers.

“You showed up for a guy who left,” Steve says back.

“You only left because I pushed you away,” Eddie argues.

“You only pushed me away because you thought it was best for me,” Steve raises a brow, challenging him to keep going.

Eddie knows Steve has a response for everything, though. He’ll keep putting blame on himself the same way Eddie keeps putting it on himself, and they’ll go round and round and waste precious time that they could be doing other things. Instead of pushing, Eddie sighs and lets his shoulders drop.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead of arguing.

“I’m sorry, too,” Steve relaxes in his arms.

“We still have to talk, Stevie,” Eddie reminds him as he leans in, feels Steve’s breath against his lips.

“We will,” Steve barely gets out before their lips crash together, bruising and needy.

There’s a lot that Eddie missed about Steve. He’s spent countless hours harping over everything he messed up to himself, to Robin, to Wayne, to the band. Steve was forever going to be the one that got away.

“Can we…” Steve gasps against his mouth, hands grasping at every inch of Eddie that they can.

“What do you need?” Eddie wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrists to still him, to make him focus on what he wants.

“Just need you.”

It’s a cop out and they both know it, but Eddie’s fine with it tonight. If he has to be the one to take charge and assume what Steve wants, then he will. For tonight, he can give Steve what he wants to, and Steve will take it.

It’s a little anticlimactic when they come barely five minutes later. They don’t even get a chance to properly remove any clothing before they’re making a mess between them, moaning as if they can’t be heard.

As they come down, and Eddie manages to find a rag that may or may not have been used for other things already, Eddie sees Steve wipe his eyes.

He stops what he’s doing and drops the rag on the floor, pulling Steve close again.

“What’s wrong?” He asks because he can’t let Steve leave him again. Not this time.

“I just don’t want this to be one night only,” Steve cries.

“It won’t be, sweetheart,” Eddie assures him, brushing the fresh tears away as they fall. “We’re gonna figure out how to make it work. The band doesn’t have anything for the next few weeks, so we’ve got time, okay?”

“But I have to leave tomorrow. I have a GQ interview in London,” Steve pouts.

Eddie tries not to be distracted by his bitten-red lips, but they’re just so…biteable.

“I could go to London,” Eddie offers, only slightly joking.

Steve’s eyes light up. “You can?”

“I mean, I can definitely blow some of my savings to follow you around for a bit,” Eddie shrugs.

“As if I’d let you pay.” Steve’s beaming at him. “You really wanna come with me? Even though people will start spreading rumors and it’ll ruin your metal band image?”

“Baby, I’ll stand on that stage right now and scream to everyone who will listen that I’m yours.”

There’s still time to do that, too. Even though it can’t have been more than 20 minutes since Steve left the stage, he has no doubt that there are plenty of stragglers in the arena hoping for Steve to still come out and perform his encore.

“Some fans are kind of-”

“Crazy?” Steve nods. “That’s because you’re perfect. But they can’t have you, right? Not like I can.”

“No. Nobody gets to have me like you do.”

If Robin wasn’t banging on the door to warn them they only had five minutes, Eddie would be trying for another round. Maybe this time, he’d get his mouth on Steve instead of just his hand.

“I guess we should get to the car before fans figure out I’m still here,” Steve suggests. “And before Robin kills us both.”

“Imagine that news story,” Eddie laughs. “Best friend and manager of pop icon Steve Harrington charged with double homicide after seeing more dicks than she’s ever seen in her life.”

“Bold of you to assume she hasn’t seen mine,” Steve laughs as he pulls away. When he sees Eddie’s shocked face, he pats his cheek. “I sleep naked, babe. You knew that.”

Eddie’s face goes back to normal quickly. “Still? I thought that was just so I would-”

“I’m coming in!” Robin shouts as she opens the door. Steve turns away to finish buttoning his pants, but Eddie’s soft dick is right out in the open.

“Seriously?” Robin groans.

Eddie finishes making himself presentable and smirks. “You’ve seen what he’s got. You can’t blame me.”

“I can and I will. Car’s already surrounded, so. Hope you’re good with a hard launch.”

Eddie looks at Steve to check in. Steve gives him a nod.

“Blast off, I guess.”

[butchhamlet]

do you have any good shakespeare retelling book recs?

what a beautiful time to ask this, says guy who has left this ask collecting cobwebs in his inbox for months! because guess who has two thumbs and just finished queen goneril by erin shields! WHAT a fucking play, holy SHIT, this is some of the best characterization of the lear sisters that i've ever read and the exploration of womanhood as filtered through class + race + shitty families + political maneuvering is so so so good. also the things shields does with the og playtext... chef's fucking KISS

anyway, recency bias aside, i've been meaning to make a post about my favorite shakespeare retellings for a while, and i think i never actually did it because i wanted to make a lear retelling ranking list and then i never read some of the ones on my TBR. so whatever. the learlist will happen someday. here are my favorites in general. (here is my goodreads shelf for the retellings i've read, good and bad, and here is the shelf for the ones i have yet to read.)

in no particular order:

a thousand acres by jane smiley: outsold. epitome of what makes an effective retelling--a book that clearly has something to say about and to the original text, but that also isn't afraid to diverge, to exclude here and zoom in there. ungraciously, this is "lear on a farm" and it starts a little slow, but holy fucking shit, i can't do justice in a paragraph to the way this book unraveled me. one of the best books of all time mayhaps. also, introduced the edmund character by describing his ass. 10/10

the last true poets of the sea by julia drake: i don't read that much YA anymore but jesus fucking christ. books tailored for me specifically. twelfth night retelling about siblings + mental illness + being bisexual + love triangles that actually make sense (emotions are confusing!) instead of being contrived + beautiful description + excellent dialogue + THE MENTAL ILLNESS. books that made me start crying in zoom class in 2020

rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead by tom stoppard: kind of a cop-out answer because we all know this one. but that does not detract from how good it is. this is one of those plays, at least for me, that makes me think, "ohhhhhh, THIS is what theater can do. this is using its medium to the absolute utmost." it is so clever and it makes me want to cry. i think about "i don't know. it's the same sky" more often than i can say

american moor by keith hamilton cobb: not exactly a retelling, but a one-man play about a Black man auditioning for the lead role in Othello, tangling as he does with his relationship with shakespeare's work and cultural dominance. suuuuuch a good fucking play even beyond the analysis of othello (which is excellent); the language is so fucking incredible. everyone who likes shakespeare should read this.

teenage dick by mike lew: modern teenage richard iii; this one's more reimagining than retelling, because it diverges pretty sharply from the plot of richard iii, but god, it's so fucking fun. and upsetting! really upsetting also.

foul is fair by hannah capin: i will be so real. i read this in high school and some of the YA books i've revisited since did not hold up for me. so idk if i can tell you this is "good" with my full chest. but the pitch is "lady macbeth gets sexually assaulted at a party and decides to fucking kill the boys who did it" and i stayed up until like 1am to finish it because it was such a vicious gleaming wild ride

the stars undying by emery robin: does this count? hard to say, because it's just as much a retelling of roman history than shakespeare's antony and cleopatra (honestly, more, since it focuses on the era where caesar and cleopatra were lovers, which is before shakespeare's play). but i'm counting it anyway because it's bisexual space opera cleopatra and it's the best book i've read so far in 2024 and it's making me crazy and i'm writing a thesis on it < genuinely

peerless by jihae park: macbeth, but college applications, featuring asian macbeths (they're twin sisters >:3) who think their classmate has taken their place in their dream school because of affirmative action/DEI. this play is absolutely VICIOUS. it's macbeth x heathers. think it mirrors macbeth in faltering a little in its final stretch, but it still fucks hard

the wednesday wars by gary d. schmidt: okay, not a retelling; this is about a preteen boy in the 60s. but it's one of the best most genuine and heartwarming books i've ever read and it manages to be hilarious while also foregoing cheap slapstick punching-low humor for a hell of a lot of warmth and passion. and the main character interacts with shakespeare a lot as a running theme so i can justify putting it on this list. #evangelizing

of course, i would be remiss not to mention that @suits-of-woe / @mjulianwrites has written the best take on Two Gentlemen of Verona to ever exist, and i mean that quite seriously. unfortunately it hasn't been published yet so we'll all just have to prayer-circle about it. i would also be remiss not to take the opportunity to. uh. coughs. do a bit of casual self-promo. if you 1. have ocd 2. have gender or 3. think about malvolio a lot. boy do i have the novella for you

will definitely add to this when i read more retellings; feel free to drop recs in the tags/replies/reblogs/my askbox!

[glutominnn]

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

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

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

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

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

[little-annie]

NSFW STEDDIE & STOBIN TEXT CHAIN

Steve normal text. Robin’s Bold. Eddie's Italicized Bold

---

___Bird Brain___

Rob

Bobby

Bobin

What? Im literally right next to you

And were at work Dingus get off of your phone.

No.

I'm. Uh.

?

You know the shop across the street???

?

The mecanic

Mecanic

Fuck

Mechanic

Okay.

They have a new guy

Okay.

And?

Gay.

Literally, what?

I think I'm gay.

Steve

Cuz like he's just so pretty

Steven

And that Haut

Stephanie

Hair

Hey whore

Wut

Bathroom talk. Now.

Were working.

You and I both know no one rents movies on a Tuesday at 10am

Bathroom.

Now.

To the porcelain thrown

You know sometimes I forget youre an idiot 20 something

then you go and say shit like that

…

Bitch.

Whore.

---

How do I tell if a mans gay or whatever its is that I am,

,

Fuck

?

Bi schedule

Bi sexual

Ducking auto correct

Babe. I hate to break it to you but your auto correct is as dyslexic as you are. You basically train it

I-

Huh.

Well ghen.

Anywho.

Gay.

Whats he wear? Any piercings? Tattoos? Whats his hair like?

Oh! This is important. DOES. HE. HAVE. A. HANKY. IN. A. BACK. POCKET???

black overalls and a black shirt. Lots. I think. His ears literally look shiny from across the street. Lots of tattoos too.

And yes??? What's that have to do with anything? My papa had a hanky and I'm pretty she he wasn't gay

He probably was. Being Bisexual is genetic.

Actually?

No Dingus.

But like the man was in the navy? Right?

Ya

Gay.

Stfu

ANYWAY

HANKY.

YES.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

FUCK YEAH.

WHATS IT LOOK LIKE AND WHAT POCKET?

???

it's black

Oh hes kinky

What side pocket

It switches.

I bet it does

Gay.

That is a gay man Steven.

Go get your dick sucked or your booty bumped or whatever it is the kids are doing these days.

Eating ass

EXCUSE

yeah. It's a thing.

:0

Robin you literally munch so much carpet. whats the difference if its the rug at the back door.

Never.

Ever.

Say.

That.

Again.

Bubble bath privileges revoked.

You whore.

---

The bath is sad with no bubbles Bob.

Make your own.

…

Okay. Ew. Stop. Stink ass. I can hear you. And the neighbors probably can too.

Are you sorry?

Not really.

Well pretend to be.

Kay.

IM SO SORRY

…

:’(

better

Your bubble bath is under the sink

:D

---

Eddie

Wut.

Thats your new lovers name.

WUT

ROBIN.

WHAT DID YOU DO.

---

*1 new message* Hi -the weirdo with long hair who works across the street (Eddie)

---

I hate you

BTW babe you have a date on Tuesday

ROBIN IT IS TUESDAY

oh ya.

Well you have a date today gay boy

…

I need to leave

The fuck you do

Yeah. I fucking do.

I need to shower

And shave

And

I dont know

What do you do before a gay date

Prep?

For what?

Oh honey

---

Should this hurt?

8⁰

Don't tell me

Are u?

Yes.

Shut up.

…

Does it hurt

Like.

Kinda?

Lube. Oh my god. LUBE. Steve I swear to Dolly, if youre prepping your fucking asshole right now, IN THE FUCKING WORK BATHROOM

I

WILL

END

YOU

:*

Youre a whore. Oh my god.

STEVEN I CAN HEAR YOU.

STOP.

This is nice.

Why havent I done this before.

Where's the protest

Prostate

Rob?

Brain me. Educate me please.

…

Nvm

Oh fuck

Found it

Definitely found it

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

like good for you babe. I love you and support you but OH MY GOD YOU WHORE GET YOUR FINGERS OUT OF YOUR ASS WERE AT WORK.

…

You really think Id do that

Obviously

Im fucking with you

Im just googling shit and well taking a shit.

Fuck you

Love you

---

*2 New messages.* um. So. Im Eddie. Your coworker. Robin? Gave me your number and said we're going out tonight???

---

Dingus have you answered your husband yet

FUCK. NO. WHAT DO I SAY.

well you could send him a picture of your ass

Or your tits

Or your weeeen

Or all of the above

Like a package deal

Hehe. Package.

Robin.

Ugh. Wut.

Be serious.

Fiiiiine. Introduce yourself. Tell him youre excited for tonight. Make a plan for your date. (Other than the reservation I booked you at Enzos) and then tell him you thi know hes pretty and you want to have his babys.

He is pretty.

And like. Id definitely let him try to get me pregnant

ANSWER HIM.

FINE.

---

___Future Husband___

um. Hi. First of all I'm so sorry for my friend. She likes to get her nose into my business. Second.

…

Ithinkyourereallyprettyandimexcitedfortonight.

At the risk of being too forward. I like literally saw you my first day at the shop and have wanted to talk to you since. Cuz. Yeah. Pretty doesnt even begin to explain what you are. Like. Bro. Have my babies.

FUCK

I CANT BELIEVE I SAID THAT

disregard the baby thing

I dont know about getting pregnant. But Im up for practice.

Like.

If you are???

8⁰

… like

Now?

My breaks in 20

Fuck

Really?

Meet me at the van across the street

:*

---

___Bird Brain___

STEVE

STEVEN

YOU WHORE

ARE YOU GETTING YOUR BACKDOOR RUG MUNCHED ???

OMG

YOU ARE

THE VAN ACROSS THE STREET IS SHAKING

AND ID BET YOUR LEFT NUT THAT YOURE IN IT

…

GET IT I GUESS BABE

DONT GET PREGNANT

OR DO

YOU DO YOU BOO

…

youre on your own for the rest of the day Birdie

And where the fuck do you think youre going

Eddies

…

Boo you whore

But like. Get it babe.

But I also hate you.

I dont want to work in this shithole alone

Steven

Answer me

Hi Robin

This is Eddie

On Steves phone

Steve's a little… preoccupied

OH MY GOD

WHAT HAVE I DONE

YOU TWO ARE GOING TO BE DISGUSTING

BUT BRO. ILL END YOU IF YOU BREAK HIS HEART

STRAIGHT UP DIG YOU A GRAVE IN THE DITCH AND BURN OFF YOUR FINGERPRINTS AND BREAK YOUR TEETH SO NO ONE CAN IDENTIFY YOUR BODY.

COLD CASE BRO

what would you do about my tattoos

Fuck you

Sorry. Positions taken.

Id burn your whole body. No skin = no tattoos

I like the way you think

But in all seriousness

Mmmm imma gonna marry this boy

Hopefully before the end of the week

Fuck yeah

I call best man

[wheneverfeasible]

The Beast With Two Backs

wc: 2.7k || rating: M || cw: infidelity/cheating, implied alcohol abuse, minor sexual content || ships: Steve/OMC, Steve/Eddie, Robin/Vickie (minor/side) || tags: Modern AU, College AU, no Upside Down, angst with a happy ending || ao3

Steve remembered, as a child, his mother warning him of the beast with two backs. She’d been drunk on the expensive champagne she had bought for her and his father’s ten year anniversary dinner. He was supposed to be going over to Tommy’s for the night after his father got home from work, except he had called off, saying he had some important paperwork he had to do.

Even Steve could hear the shrill laughter on the other side of the phone that his father barely tried to shush.

His mom had gotten a little too drunk to drive him to the Hagans’ now, and too drunk to call them and tell them that, so Steve did instead. He promised Tommy he’d see him tomorrow, but that his mom wasn’t feeling good. Tommy had been annoyed, but it was whatever. He needed to take care of his mom first. He promised he’d see him tomorrow though.

His mother was halfway through the bottle when she bemoaned the beast, warning Steve never to fall prey to it, to never become the beast that ruined a poor girl’s life. To never trap someone in a life they didn’t want because he wouldn’t ’wrap it up’.

It wasn’t until he was a little bit older and discovered how long a pregnancy took that he began wondering about the fact that his tenTh birthday was only five months after what should have been his parents’ ten year anniversary dinner.

When he became sexually active in high school, he always made certain to use rubbers, or found his partner’s pleasure in other ways. Later, after his falling out with Tommy and his new friendship with Robin, things got even better when he realized he could like boys too. There was no risk of pregnancy with most boys. Entering college opened a whole new ballpark for him.

It was where he met his boyfriend. He and Robin were working their part time job, where he’d met her, and his future boyfriend had strode in, caught sight of him in those ridiculous blue shorts, and the rest was history he supposed. The guy was ripped jeans and band tees and everything his parents would hate. Steve possibly fell in love at first sight.

It had been fantastic, at first. His boyfriend would serenade him, would take him out to bars and dance with him in public, and would promise to always love Steve.

And then Steve’s boyfriend made a new friend who he spoke to all the time through text messages he wouldn’t let Steve see. Suddenly, his boyfriend wasn’t around as often. Suddenly, his boyfriend started missing dates, calling to tell him he had coursework he had to do. There was never laughter at the other, but Steve’s insides squirmed.

His boyfriend told him he was being delusional. Paranoid. That there wasn’t anything to worry about. Steve had met the friend who touched his boyfriend in the way that his boyfriend always shook off when Steve did it. Steve’s boyfriend never called Steve his boyfriend when his friend was around.

He stopped repeating Steve’s “I love you”s at the end of their phone calls and texts.

Steve wanted to surprise his boyfriend, so he stopped by his room to drag him to dinner and maybe a movie. It wasn’t an anniversary or anything, but he wanted to reaffirm their relationship.

Instead, he saw the beast his mother had once warned him about, composed of his boyfriend and the friend he’d repeatedly been told not to worry about.

Eddie’s eyes were the first one to meet him from his position on top of Dennis, his dark eyes widening at the sudden appearance of an audience when Steve had entered his boyfriend’s unlocked dorm room. Eddie froze for a brief moment before he flushed bright red at being caught riding dick and scrambled off.

Dennis propped himself up on his bed and glared across at Steve. “Jesus fucking Christ, Steven, don’t you ever knock?” his boyfriend hissed at him.

Steve stared without blinking, his chest feeling caved in. Dennis wasn’t even apologetic. Eddie was looking back and forth between them with lowered brows, confusion radiating from him, prompting him to start looking for his clothing. He had a hard time telling them apart from Dennis’s always scattered on the floor.

“Baby, c’mon, don’t go,” Dennis crooned, but it wasn’t towards Steve. No, he was propped up on his elbow on the bed, dick still wet and hard, holding out a hand towards Eddie.

Baby.

Dennis used to call Steve that too.

Eddie glanced nervously at Steve. “It looks like your friend needs to talk to you,” he hesitated, and that snapped Steve at least partly out of his silent staring.

“Boyfriend,” he corrected.

“What!” Eddie squawked while Dennis let fly an expletive.

“I’m his boyfriend. Or…I was, until just right now.”

Dennis swore again. “Steve, babe, don’t do this,” he said, causing Eddie to fling his head around to gape at Dennis. “Look, we can work this out,” he wheedled, sitting up finally to hold his wiggling fingers out towards Steve. “You could join us,” he added with a purr that used to send Steve’s toes curling.

Now it only curdled his stomach.

“He was your boyfriend this whole time?” Eddie hissed, and he looked so disgusted with Dennis that Steve couldn’t even find it in himself to hate the guy. Hell, even if he had known about Steve, he couldn’t really hate the guy. After all, it was Steve’s boyfriend doing the cheating, not Eddie.

Dennis just scoffed, rolling his eyes, obviously trying to salvage the situation. “He’s a baby gay. It was never going to be serious. Not like you and me, baby,” he coaxed, reaching out to grab Eddie by the hip.

Eddie’s hand solidly met Dennis’s cheek, making Steve jump. “Find someone else to buy your weed from,” Eddie growled, and then he was shoving on clothes that may or may not belong to him and crashing through the door, sending Steve an agonized, apologizing look.

Steve finally blinked at Dennis, who was clutching his cheek and swearing a mile a minute, finally understanding his mother and wishing he had expensive champagne right now too. “Goodbye, Dennis. We’re through.”

Steve closed the door on his ex-boyfriend, ignoring his calls for Steve to wait and come back.

Robin helped him through the breakup, blocking Dennis’s number from both their phones and helping Steve file the paperwork to switch dorm rooms. Neither of them wanted him to be where Dennis could easily find it after the first night when Dennis had pounded on the door to be let in.

He crashed in her dorm, eating their weight in the ice cream they more or less stole from work, and watched the Bridget Jones’s Diary trilogy while getting drunk off of shitty wine coolers. Robin had told him it was a rite of passage for having your heart broken. He only let himself cry after she fell asleep, however, muffling the sounds so he wouldn’t disturb her.

He was given his new dorm assignment, told he was in luck because another guy was looking for a new situation as well, and he moved in that next weekend. He should have known that life wouldn’t make things easy for him, however. Because his new roommate? The guy currently unboxing his items as he settled into the new dorm with him?

It was Eddie.

It was…awkward. Eddie had been beside himself, apologizing over and over again and saying he’d talk to the office while putting his things back into his boxes. He wouldn’t look Steve in the eye.

Steve thought it would be easier if he hated Eddie, but he was just as much a victim in this as he was. It turned out that he and Dennis had been dating for a few months after matching on Grindr, starting out as a hookup and a weed deal, but Dennis wasn’t wanting to put any labels to anything yet. He had assured Eddie that he was single though, that Steve was just a friend who had an unfortunate crush on him.

Eddie didn’t know that Steve and Dennis had been boyfriends for over a year now.

Eddie had also blocked Dennis’s number.

It would be easier to hate Eddie, probably easier not to see him again either, but he told Eddie it was fine and that it wasn’t like Eddie had anywhere else to go at the moment, so they uncomfortably settled in together for the time being.

And Eddie wasn’t terrible. A little messy, sure, and he played his music too loudly, would work himself into rants about conformity and toxic masculinity and anything else that caught his attention, but…it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant.

Strange as it was, he and Eddie developed a sort of friendship. Robin had been hesitant about it, but all too soon she had been dragged into it as well, something she never had with Steve and Dennis, who never really liked her. Eventually, they all forgot that Eddie was going to look for a new place to stay, and soon they had become a trio as if they’d been friends all along.

Eddie called them “The Three Muskequeers” with a roaring laugh while Robin pelted him with popcorn during one of their weekly movie nights.

Steve secretly loved that laugh.

The more time that Steve and Eddie (and Robin) spent time together, the more Steve was starting to realize that he might secretly love more than just Eddie’s laugh. Though, by the way Robin stared at him sometimes with worry, maybe it wasn’t all that secret.

Steve wasn’t delusional. Eddie still met guys on Grindr, making them take up the sock system for the doorknob, and that was fine. Eddie didn’t seriously date anymore, only doing hookups. Steve knew he wasn’t Eddie’s type anyways. Knew that Eddie wouldn’t ever look at him and see anything other than the pathetic, jilted lover. It was fine.

At least, it was fine, until they went to the club one night and got drunk. Until Robin left with wide eyes following a beautiful girl who had a dorky grin looking like she came straight from a John Hughes film, her many braceleted hand holding tightly to Robin’s. Until it was just him and Eddie and booze and pounding music and the fact that Steve hadn’t been touched by a man since Dennis.

Until Steve found himself with his back pressed against the door of a bathroom stall, Eddie on his knees with his mouth around him as he stared up with his gorgeous brown eyes.

Steve, stumbling with his hand in Eddie’s into their dorm room, knew what this was. Things might be awkward in the morning, but he knew they could laugh it off. It was just a night of passion, of letting off steam. Eddie didn’t need to know about his unfortunate crush on him.

Eddie didn’t need to know that Steve was more in love with him than he had ever been in love with Dennis. Or anyone else for that matter.

In the morning, he feigned sleep as he felt Eddie carefully extricate himself from Steve’s bed. He listened to Eddie carefully dress, carefully leave their dorm room, and told himself that he was fine. When Eddie eventually came back, he’d pretend like it never happened. He’d pretend he didn’t know how Eddie tasted on his tongue, or the sound Eddie made when he sank into him, or the way Eddie felt like home.

He sat up in bed, head in his hands, trying to convince himself everything would be okay. He sat like that for a while.

And then the door jiggled open and he jerked his head up to see Eddie walking back in with his hands full of a familiar bright pink box and a drink carrier, a greasy white bag clenched between his teeth, and his eyes lighting up when he saw Steve.

“Stevie!” he exclaimed, or tried to with his mouth full. He kicked the door shut with his foot and moved to set the box and drink carrier down on the shared desk, spitting out the white bag from his teeth and setting that on top to spin around to face Steve again.

Eddie grinned, cupping Steve’s face in his hands and bringing him in for a surprising kiss. “I was hoping you were still asleep. I got breakfast! Donuts and breakfast sandwiches and coffee from that place you really like,” he said, still grinning, when he finally pulled away. He wiggled his brows. “I got Buckley’s favorite too for whenever she stumbles her way home,” he teased.

Steve stared up at Eddie with wide eyes, unable to process. “What?”

Eddie’s grin grew smaller, slowly sliding from his face, the light in his eyes dampening. “Oh, uh…shit,” he muttered to himself. He grabbed his hair to pull over his face, but instead of looking happily embarrassed like he normally did when he made that move, he looked withdrawn, awkward. Sad.

“You don’t…” Eddie gulped. “You didn’t mean anything by it,” he said as though slowly realizing something that was, Steve knew, absolutely not true. “Fuck. Shit. Sorry, man,” Eddie said, turning away as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself, hands clasping his shoulders. “I didn’t mean…uh…yeah. It’s fine. We’re still bros. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We can just forget it. Um. I’m gonna go…take a shower,” he finished in a mumble, moving swiftly to grab his shower caddy.

Steve felt his heart stutter in his chest. Hope blossomed warm in his chest, his belly, and before he knew it he was out of bed and grabbing Eddie by his arm before he could escape.

Eddie cringed away, ducking his head to hide his face in the curtain of his hair, and the smell of Steve’s favorite donut shop filled their small dorm. But even the best glazed donut would pale in comparison to the sweetness of Eddie’s lips when Steve pulled the other man back around, cupped his jaw, and showed Eddie just how much he didn’t want to forget last night.

Their breakfast sandwiches were cold by the time they got to them, their coffee too, but Steve didn’t care as he laid in bed with Eddie and licked the remnants of sugar and jelly from Eddie’s lips.

Later, when Robin stumbled in with a few new hickies and the pretty girl’s number in her phone, she didn’t even acknowledge that the two of them were still tangled up in Steve’s bed together—though thankfully showered and dressed—as she collapsed on to Eddie’s. It was only when she’d polished off one old fashioned and was reaching for another that she paused, took stock of the way they were wrapped on each other’s arms and holding hands, and let out an unholy shriek.

Her smile was radiant, however, her eyes bright, and though she told them point blank she wanted zero details, she also told them that she was happy for them. She teased them mercilessly, of course, at least until Steve teased right back when she was going to introduce the girl last night to them so they could become the Four Muskequeers.

Robin shrieked again, throwing a pillow at them, and Steve realized for the first time in a long time, he was utterly and truly happy.

Him and Eddie still had a lot to talk about, still had their insecurities to work through, but later Eddie had Steve watch as he scrubbed his Grindr account and then deleted his account, giving Steve the passcode to his phone as well. Steve of course did the same, and they tried to be as transparent as possible about who they were talking to without feeling attacked.

Eddie also loudly proclaimed how much he loved his boyfriend every chance he got, and now the sock on the door system was only used to keep Robin and Vickie from bursting into their dorm. Though, unfortunately for Robin, they sometimes forgot.

Years later, after they stood in front of their family and friends to declare themselves, when Steve stood from the table after the cake had been sliced and bellies were fed, Steve lifted his glass with a sly smile and in his speech thanked someone named Dennis, who unfortunately couldn’t make it though they had sent him an invitation, for introducing him to the love of his life.

Robin, Vickie, and Eddie all snorted with laughter, and when Eddie pulled him down for a grinning kiss, his lips tasted as sweet as ever.

~ ~ ~

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[scarlet-bitch]

Glitch. (Part One)

“I think there’s been a glitch, five seconds later I’m fastening myself to you with a stitch, and I’m not even sorry.”

18+ sexual themes

Robin thought it would be a great idea to set Steve up with her new co-worker. But once the date was arranged, she started to second-guess her decision and wondered if you might have been a better match for Eddie. As a true gentleman, Steve took her concerns seriously and decided to leave the choice up to you.

——-

Thirty minutes ago you would’ve said you were indifferent to metal music. You surely didn’t hate it, but you never found yourself particularly wanting to listen to it. However, you are rather fond of pretty men and the lead in the metal band playing at the dive bar where you’re on a blind date, is possibly the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

This is quite a testament, especially since your date, Steve, is very handsome. With his charming conversation, you genuinely enjoyed every moment of your dinner together. But now that you’re at The Hideout, you find it hard to concentrate on him or the conversation.

“Mhmm” you nod in agreement to what you think was a comment about the Jack and Coke he’s drinking. You know you should fight harder to pay attention but you’re simply too mesmerized by the sight in front of you to think straight.

Steve doesn’t seem to think much of it at first, figuring it’s far too loud to continue any meaningful conversation. But as the guitar solo begins, he clocks the real reason you’re struggling to keep up.

As you’re sat clutching your drink, your eyes are glued to the stage. Mouth slightly agape, thighs squeezed tight, breath hitched in your throat as your eyes lock in on the way the prettiest man’s fingers skillfully work his guitar.

He’s intoxicating.

“He’s a friend of mine if you want to meet him.”

Fuck.

Your face snaps back to your date. The embarrassment creeping up on your cheeks, as a shy smile toys at your lips.

“I, uh” you pause. In the hour you’ve known him, you have already gathered that Steve is a man who can read women. You couldn’t fool him if you wanted to.

He let’s out a small chuckle. “Listen, it’s totally fine. It’s safe to say Robin tried. I’ll introduce you.”

You found yourself straining your voice in an effort to be heard over the music. Your words tumbling out, trying to clarify that despite eye-fucking someone else -albeit his friend- it was in no way a reflection that you weren’t enjoying his company.

Steve grinned. "Seriously, don't worry about it. Eddie has that effect on people."

——

When the band wrapped up their set the bar transitioned to playing music over the speakers. Hall & Oates' “Maneater” was the first song to play, and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. The lyrics seemingly resonating in your own reality. “She’s sitting with you, but her eyes are on the door.” Or in this case, his best friend.

——

Eddie made his way over to the bar where Steve and you were sitting. Hair tousled, drops of sweat beading down his skin, and a wide toothy grin spread across his face. Steve nudged you subtly as he approached, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Harrington! Good to see you, man!” Eddie greeted with a grin, slapping Steve on the shoulder before turning his attention to you. "And who might this stunning creature be?"

Steve introduced you. As you extended your arm, you greeted Eddie with a smile, "Nice to meet you."

He shook your hand, his touch lingering for a moment. "Likewise. Tell me, did you enjoy the show? I couldn't help but notice you looked rather... captivated.”

Steve interjected with a teasing tone. “Oh, I assure you, she was.”

"Well then, if I’ve been stealing your date's attention, the least I can do is buy you both a drink.”

Steve stayed at the bar with Eddie while the drinks were being prepared, so you found a booth tucked away in a quiet corner.

When they returned with your drinks, Steve slipped into the seat next to you while Eddie settled across on the bench. The conversation between the three of you, flowing effortlessly as you got to know Eddie as more than just a pretty face.

——

The night went on, the bar bustling around you, but in your little corner with Steve and Eddie, time seemed to slow down.

Eddie’s presence was just as captivating off stage. He seemed to possess a gravitational pull, drawing you in with stolen glances and cheeky comments that left you both intrigued and flustered. Steve was effortlessly charming, matching Eddie’s wit. His smile and the way he spoke had a quality that had escaped you earlier. As you watched them banter, you couldn't decide who was more attractive. Quickly realizing the title for prettiest man you’ve laid eyes on was a draw.

You were caught in the middle of their dynamic, unable to tear your gaze away from the interplay of their personalities. The two of them bounce off each other like the perfect balance of mystique and charm. In all the banter, you can’t help but detect subtle tension- like a glitch, a mix of friendship that’s tinged with a hint of something more. Desire.

——

Steve leaned back against the booth, grinning as Eddie's last comment hung in the air.

"So, confession," Steve started, his tone light. "Robin wasn’t sure who would be a better match for you, so we decided to take matters into our own hands.”

You chuckled softly, feeling warm from the alcohol and the company of both men. "So, this was all a plan to see which of you I’d fall for?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at Steve.

“Something like that.”

Eddie joined in with a laugh, “Steve usually doesn't let me crash his dates, but can you blame us? We thought Robin might be onto something when we saw you couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”

“Normally, I'd be embarrassed about that, but now look at both of you, competing for my attention.”

Steve laughed. “Do you always have this effect on people? Or is it just me and Eddie?”

You glanced between them, their eyes filled with curiosity and longing. "I think," you said slowly, "tonight might be different."

You may have been mesmerized by Eddie’s hands, but you now couldn’t stop looking at Steve’s mouth. It was so pretty, and every word that fell from his lips cascaded like velvet. He would talk me through it.

"You know," you said with a playful grin, sipping your drink, "I'm starting to think you two might be onto something."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's that?"

“Maybe I'm just greedy," you replied with a mock sigh, "but why choose one when I can have both?”

Eddie chuckled, leaning closer. "Careful," he murmured, his voice low, "you might give us ideas."

Steve's eyes met yours, warmth in his gaze making your cheeks flush. "Who says we haven't already had them?" he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine.

They exchanged a look that spoke volumes- a silent agreement that something unexpected was happening between them, sparked by you.

Eddie’s playful grin softened. “Alright then, you heard the man, we’re not opposed to sharing.”

You looked at them, searching for any hint of jest or hesitation, but found none. Their eyes held yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you leaned forward slightly. "Is that an invitation?”

Steve chuckled softly. "More like an offer.”

Eddie leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "The question is, are you up for it?" he added, his voice low and husky.

Taking a sip of your drink to gather your thoughts, you met their eyes with a hint of playfulness. "I’m game for almost anything,” you replied, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. "But what exactly do you have in mind?"

Steve's eyes twinkled with amusement. "How about we start by going somewhere more private?" he suggested, his voice thick with promise.

Eddie nodded in agreement, his expression becoming more serious but still laced with excitement. "We could go to my place," he proposed. "It's about a 15-minute walk, or if we’d rather, my van’s just right outside. It's pretty spacious."

You lock eyes with Steve. He leans nearer, his voice soft and filled with longing, "What do you say?"

“The van it is.”

——

Outside, the cool night air greeted you, a stark contrast to the warmth and intimacy brewing between the three of you.

Eddie opened the side door to his van, revealing a cozy space with cushions lining the floor. The three of you settled in, Eddie to your left, Steve to your right. The soft glow of the interior lights highlighted the contours of your faces, reflecting the shared desire that pulsed between each of you.

Eddie’s eyes were fixed on you with a playful glint. "Well, here we are," he remarked. “You ready to see what other talents these hands possess” he whispers, grazing his hand gently up your left leg.

Your breath hitches. Taken off guard by his boldness, you’re at a loss for words. Merely shaking your head yes, causing him to chuckle.

Steve, leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You know, l've been wondering what your lips taste like since the moment I saw you.”

You turn your head, meeting him face to face. As you lean in, your lips brush against his in a feather light kiss. His response is a soft intake of breath, before deepening the kiss. His hands sliding gently along your waist, pulling you closer. Eddie’s presence next to you, his fingers inching up your thigh.

As Steve moves from your lips to your neck, Eddie’s lips quickly find yours. A soft sigh escaping him. Eddie’s kiss is different than Steve’s, a melding of lips and tongues, indicative of the hunger and longing that had been building throughout the night. He moves from your lips to your jaw, nipping gently at your neck. One hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the soft flesh of your inner thigh, only centimeters from where you want him most.

Steve’s trailing kisses softly on the other side, sucking gently when he finds the spot that makes you moan.

“Ahh, fuck.” You gasp, overwhelmed with the feeling of being ravished by both men.

“That’s it, baby girl. Tell us how it feels.” Steve hums.

“So fucking good.”

Both men begin trailing their kisses back up to your mouth, stopping as they almost collide together. They exchange a glance, a smirk on both their lips, wordless communication passing between them before they move in sync. Steve's lips found yours first, soft and eager, while Eddie's followed suit, more demanding. It was a collision of warmth and desire, three sets of lips intermingling, setting your senses on fire. When you parted, you were left breathless.

"I think we're going to have a lot of fun together.” Steve rasps

Eddie’s lips pull into a smirk. “Only one way to find out.”

——

Part Two

[morganski-19]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone that he really liked stayed.

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

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

[wildsupernova]

a secret gift.

prompt #3 on scealaiscoite’s christmas prompt list: “secret santa”

summary: another christmas spent with friends and loved ones means another annual secret santa celebration. but this year, steve has a special secret santa gift up his sleeve…

pairing: steve harrington x reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff, very mild sexual allusions

a/n: hey again everyone! i wanted to thank you guys so, so, so much for the love on my last christmas story. it was my first post back after a long hiatus and i wasn’t expecting to see it blow up like it did, but all of the reblogs really warmed my heart. this story was supposed to be uploaded on christmas, but time got away from me, so here it is a few days late. it’s not quite as good as i had hoped for, but it was an idea floating around in my head for a while, so i hope you guys enjoy. again, thanks so much for all the love on my last post, and thank you for reading this one! <3 — — nova

masterlist | prompt list

“Uhg, come on, do we really have to do this again?” Robin threw her head back on the back of the sofa, her skull slightly bouncing off the leather as she did.

“Yes, Robin, we’re doing this again.” Nancy shook the bowl full of little slips of paper in her hands for the third time, pulling one out and putting it in her lap. She passed the bowl to Jonathan, who also took one, and the chain continued until each person had a slip of paper. Robin was last to take hers, throwing the empty bowl on the small coffee table in front of her.

“But I hate Secret Santa.”

“It’s tradition, Robs.” You say with a smile, hiding your own slip of paper in your palm. “We’ve been doing it since high school.”

“Which is exactly why we should stop doing it. It’s so old.” The group laughs at Robin’s childlike tantrum, Eddie giving her a light smack to the back of the head.

Christmas time was something you cherished deeply, especially amongst your friends. Ever since you were a child, the magic of Christmas had always been something you held with you; the shimmering, multicolored lights wrapped around a freshly decorated tree, the smell of cinnamon mixing perfectly with the earthly scent of pine, and the way the sun shimmered opalescent as it beamed down on a fresh layer of snow. Christmas was a time to feel like a child again, no matter how old you were, and you would be damned if you would let Robin’s yearly tantrum ruin a 5 year long tradition.

You had been a late addition to the friend group you found yourself in now, not spending time together with everyone until your senior year at Hawkins High. You had kept to yourself for most of your high school career, not doing much in the way of extracurriculars or social activities. You had friends, of course, but none that spent much time going to parties or participating in sports, so your friendships never expanded much outside of the small circle of individuals you had known since middle school. At the beginning of your senior year, you had realized just how much you had missed out on, and vowed that you would put yourself out there more and make your own memories. So, when your new lab partner Nancy Wheeler invited you to a party at Steve Harrington’s house, you agreed, albeit with a small hesitation.

At the time, you wouldn’t have described your relationship with Nancy as being very close. It was primarily a professional one, with most conversations revolving around that day’s homework or the upcoming quiz at the end of the week. When you brought one of your favorite books to class one day, the conversation pivoted away from the usual topics, with Nancy noting that the book was also one of her favorites, and that she was happy to find someone who was willing to listen to her talk about it non stop. Soon enough, the conversations became more like the ones you had with your other friends, and that had led to Nancy inviting you to the party that weekend.

Being invited to a party at Steve Harrington’s house used to be the greatest honor anyone could achieve, but now it was something that was becoming increasingly rare. You’d never had any negative experiences with Steve during your shared years at Hawkins High; you were just in the right level of social standing where you were practically invisible to him and his old friends, so you’d never had any bad nor good experiences with him and those formerly in his circle. You’d heard that in recent years he’d changed his personality significantly from how he’d been at the beginning of high school, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit curious to see the new and greatly improved Steve Harrington.

Party wasn’t exactly what you would have called the get together you attended that Saturday night. By technical standards, it was a party. Music, drinks, empty house, and room temperature pizza were all present, but what was missing was…the people. It didn’t take you long to realize that you hadn’t been invited to a party; you had been invited to a hangout amongst long term friends, which left you feeling just a little bit awkward.

That awkwardness didn’t last for much of the night, however, as Nancy introduced you to the rest of the group quickly. Her boyfriend, Jonathan, was rather quiet, shaking your hand and offering a nod of the head as introduction. Robin was much more upbeat and gave you a hug as her greeting, which her girlfriend Vickie quickly apologized for and introduced herself. The best way to put Eddie’s introduction was charming, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it in a rather extravagant gesture, before he began profusely apologizing for it after realizing that it might have been a bit much. You just laughed it off and told him you appreciated it, which barely eased his conscience.

Then, there was Steve. It was visible that he was a different man than the one you knew from high school, like he had an aura around him that had shifted from a bright, overbearing yellow to a more soothing cool blue. He offered up a kind smile, ran a hand through his hair and unconsciously showed off the shiny watch on his wrist, and held his hand out for you to shake, which you took enthusiastically. You struggled to hold back the blush in your face when you saw his eyes just briefly sweep over your body, his grip on your hand firm as he shook and released it a few seconds later.

Needless to say, you were smitten from first glance at the new and improved Steve Harrington.

After that night, you became a permanent fixture in the friend group. At the start, you had felt like a 7th wheel, always left out of inside jokes and unsure of the context behind the many stories they told amongst each other. It didn’t last that way for long, however, as everyone was more than happy to go into explicit detail explaining the history of the joke or recounting tales that were always shared during get togethers. Naturally, as your friendship with everyone developed, you found yourself gravitating more and more towards Steve, and he seemed to be doing the same.

It became a regular occurrence that you and Steve would be left to hang out alone due to conflicts from the rest of the group. There were periods where Eddie was hardly around due to touring with his band, Nancy and Jonathan often cancelled in favor of date nights or work conflicts, and Robin and Vickie had perpetual band performances that left them unable to make plans. So, instead of canceling plans altogether, you and Steve decided to just hang out between the two of you, which became more and more charged the more nights you spent in each other’s company.

Nancy had been the one to pitch the idea of Secret Santa for Christmas that first year. You were still a fairly new addition to the group and didn’t know the others as well as they knew each other, and being the thoughtful person she was, Nancy didn’t want you to stress about finding Christmas gifts for everyone, so she figured Secret Santa would be the best way to not only give gifts, but also get to know the others with limited stress. You had ended up with Steve that first year, buying him an expensive watch that was far out of your budget, an item that, in retrospect, might have been an unconscious effort to make a good impression on him. Nancy had been the one to pull your name, gifting you a rare copy of the book that had led you to each other in the beginning.

As time went on, something between you and Steve seemed to shift that summer. There had been a tension building between you two for quite a while, but it finally broke after a particularly rough shift at Family Video. One moment, you were seated on the hood of his car in the parking lot talking him through his horrific encounters with various screaming customers, and the next his hands were all over you while his lips worked magic against your own.

You kept it quiet, unsure if what you were feeling was true romantic attraction or just a summer fling, but Steve decided to make it official that coming Christmas. It was your second year participating in Secret Santa as a group, and you had gotten Eddie that year, buying him a new guitar strap and set of guitar picks after his old ones finally broke. When you finally opened your Secret Santa gift, a small square box messily wrapped in bright red wrapping paper, you knew immediately that Steve was your Secret Santa. Inside of the box was a delicate silver necklace, a small teardrop shaped sapphire sitting in the center of the pendant hanging from the chain. That night was the night Steve had officially asked you to be his girlfriend, a proposition you happily accepted with a kiss.

The tradition of Secret Santa continued even when many of you had moved far from Hawkins, Indiana and started new lives, everyone somehow always able to make time to convene to celebrate the holiday. Nancy and Jonathan had moved to Chicago to pursue their collective journalism careers, spending their days with noses buried in books to get them through college. Corroded Coffin had kicked Eddie into stardom, with he and his fellow bandmates never staying in one place long enough to call it home, always on tour and playing new venues. Robin and Vickie had followed you and Steve to Indianapolis, beginning their own lives as college students. You and Steve moved into an apartment not far from your shared campus, with Steve working several odd jobs while remaining undecided on a major, finally finding his place in the education program after volunteering at the campus daycare for an event. Despite life always getting in the way, all of you consistently met for the annual Secret Santa, hosting the entire group at your house for the week leading up to Christmas.

“It’s not old, it’s a classic.” Robin rolled her eyes as Steve shared his defense for the tradition, earning him a small eye roll. He slung his arm over your shoulder and rested it on the back of the couch, yourself not seeing him subtly trade his slip of paper for the one Eddie was holding.

“Okay, everyone knows the rules. You have a week to find your gift, no tags, all wrapped in the same wrapping paper, and we exchange them on Christmas Eve.” Nancy folded up her paper and slipped it into her pocket, Robin letting out another groan of protest at her reminder of their rules. The room filled with quiet conversation as Steve looked down at the slip of paper in his hands, suddenly feeling the nerves he had been trying to push away for days fill up his chest.

A week later and the living room of yours and Steve’s small apartment is festively decorated for the upcoming holiday, the tree in the corner of the apartment covered in tinsel garland and the floor below is littered with brightly wrapped gifts. The Secret Santa gifts all sit in one corner, all wrapped in matching green and red striped paper, the bows tied on each one a different color to designate their intended recipient. You and the rest of the group sit huddled around the coffee table, drinks in hand and laughing about whatever crazy tour story Eddie was telling this time. Your fingers are wrapped around the stem of a wine glass as you sip absentmindedly from the merlot inside, and Steve sits next to you with his hand lightly resting on your thigh, his other holding the crystal glass of cheap whiskey that he’s been nursing the whole night.

“Okay!” Nancy claps her hands together, making Steve jump. You look up at him and raise a brow, but he just waves it off and gives you the ‘I’m fine’ look he always does. You don’t buy it, but decide to drop it anyway; he’s been on edge all week, but every time you ask why, he just brushes you off and assures you everything is fine. “We should get to the Secret Santa gifts while we’re all sober.”

“Please, I can’t listen to another minute of Eddie’s ramblings about getting drunk on tour.” Robin rolled her eyes and threw back the rest of the drink in her glass, swatting away Eddie’s hands as he tried to mess up her hair in retaliation.

Nancy was quick in passing out all of the gifts, having long memorized the designated ribbon colors that you all had set after the first year you had decided to use the same color wrapping paper and mixed up all the gifts. She handed you yours last, a messily wrapped box tied with green ribbon, and you placed it in your lap, almost immediately noticing how the shoddy wrapping paper had been taped down to the box. It was nearly identical to the way your Secret Santa gift from Steve three years ago had been wrapped, and you smiled a bit at the memory.

Once everyone had been handed their gifts, everyone took turns opening them. Nancy went first and opened her gift from Robin, a fancy new notepad and pen set for her internship at the paper. Jonathan got a new set of camera attachments from Eddie, Robin a new jacket from Nancy, Vickie a new hairpin from Jonathan, and Eddie had been gifted a brand new custom embroidered Corroded Coffin patch from Vickie. Eventually, it came around to you and Steve, where it became obvious that you had received each other for the Secret Santa exchange (if it hadn’t been obvious already).

Steve opened his gift from you first, ripping the paper off the rectangle shaped black leather box. When he opened it, inside was a golden ring hanging from a polished golden chain, just long enough to be able to fit over Steve’s head without much effort. Engraved inside the ring and placed in just the right way where it was visible, were the words ‘Merry Christmas, my love. Take this ring as a promise for many more.’

“I know it’s more expensive than what we normally do for Secret Santa gifts, but I wanted to get you something special this year. I haven’t pulled you for Secret Santa since that first year, so I figured I should get you something nice.” Steve pulled the necklace from the box, holding it delicately in his hands as if he were afraid to break it.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart. I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know you’re a big fan of promise rings, considering you’ve bought me, like, five, so I figured it was time for you to have your own.”

“I love it, thank you.” Holding it tightly in his palm, Steve leaned over and pressed a long, soft kiss to your lips, throwing the chain over his head when he pulled away. “Hopefully my gift can match up to yours.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, you always know what to get me even if I don’t tell you-” Your words died in your throat after you pulled all of the wrapping paper from the box and removed the lid, eyes growing wide as they landed on the small velvet box lying perfectly in the center. You looked at Steve, still wide eyed, who simply nodded for you to open the box, your hand shaking as you removed it from the cardboard box and flipped open the lid.

Sitting inside the box was a beautiful shimmering engagement ring, diamonds inlaid in the silver that weaved around in a beautiful vintage pattern. A single large, oval shaped diamond sat in the center of the ring, the ring’s band weaving around it to frame it just perfectly like the center of a flower. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, and as you looked at the way the ring shimmered in the dim light, you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“It’s been three years since I first asked you to be my girlfriend, and it’s been the happiest three years of my life.” Steve’s voice shook with nerves as he spoke, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, his face had turned a bright red. “When I first met you, I think part of me always knew that this is where we would end up. You didn’t know any part of me except for my reputation, but you gave me a chance anyway, even when I’m sure everyone you knew was telling you not to. That summer, when we started all of this and tried to agree that it was never something serious, I kept replaying these images in my mind of what a life with you would be like. You were just so unbelievably easy to fall in love with. No matter what you did, I could feel myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you until I just couldn’t handle it anymore and had to have you, totally and completely. Three years ago, I asked you to be my girlfriend with a Secret Santa gift, so, three years later, I have to ask you something again.”

Steve slid himself off the couch slowly, bending down on one knee in front of where you sat on the couch. You could barely contain the smile spreading across your face, and it seemed to spread to Steve’s own as he found it hard to speak.

“Sweetheart, will you marry me?”

Instantly, you were furiously nodding your head, jumping into Steve’s arms and nearly sending him tumbling back into the coffee table. All of your friends shared a round of applause as you pressed your lips to Steve fervently, Eddie letting out a loud wolf whistle when the kiss got just a bit deeper. When you finally ran out of breath and parted from him, you let Steve slip the ring on your left hand, pulling him in for one more kiss.

When everything in the room finally died down and you found your spot back on the couch, sitting as close to Steve as you possibly could, you looked at the beaming smiles of your friends who all threw congratulations your way. As they did, a thought hit you.

“Wait, how did you guys make sure that Steve got me for Secret Santa?” Everyone in the room went silent. “You guys knew?”

“‘Course we knew! How else would we make sure that someone else didn’t pull your name?” Eddie clapped Steve on the back, earning him a playful swat in return.

“Eddie was the one who actually pulled your name, but we swapped cards last minute.”

“If it helps, they didn’t even tell me until right before we pulled names.” Robin crossed her arms over her chest, pouting like a child. “Said they didn’t trust me to keep the secret.”

“And you did phenomenally well.” Robin sent a glare towards Nancy’s condescending remark, but laughed it off quickly.

“When Steve told us what he wanted to do, of course we had to help him out.”

“Thank you guys, really. It took a lot of the stress off of me.” Steve looked around the room, sending a thankful smile to all of his friends.

“Of course, man. Anything for you two love birds.” Eddie stood from the couch and walked behind it, holding both you and Steve in a wide embrace over the back of the couch. After a semi-uncomfortable few minutes, Eddie made his way to the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator in search of…something. “Now, let’s celebrate. Who's up for some homemade gingerbread cookies?”

“Oh god, I’d better go help him before he burns down the whole building.” Nancy jumped to her feet, rushing towards the kitchen and screaming for Eddie to put down whatever he was holding.

You let the sounds of your friends surround you as you looked up at Steve, who was already staring down at you with the softest eyes you’d ever seen.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Steve leaned down and pressed his lips against yours once again, your new engagement ring sparkling in the lamplight as you entwined your fingers with his own.

[steviesbicrisis]

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

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

--

*getting ready for Pride*

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

Eddie: wow you're so pretty

Steve: ah thank you bro

Robin: what the fuck

--

Steve: *upset*

Robin: what happened

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

Steve: it is outrageous

Robin: what about going on dates with Eddie?

Steve: ahaha you're so weird

Robin: *screams into a pillow*

--

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

Robin: what's your type

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

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

Eddie: and with gorgeous hair

Robin: sounds like someone I know

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

--

Eddie: *DMing a campaign*

Steve: *sighs* isn't he cute?

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

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

Robin: EXACTLY

--

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

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

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

Robin: I'm going to murder you

Robin: Steve of course

--

Steve: *on Eddie's lap*

Eddie: *petting Steve's hair*

Robin: Explain this.

Robin: in a straight way.

Steve: we're watching a movie??

--

Steve: *flirting with a girl*

Eddie: I hate her

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

Eddie: I'm a great judge of character

--

Eddie: *asking a girl out*

Steve: I hate her

Robin: give me one good reason to hate her

Steve: Eddie is a terrible judge of character

--

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

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

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

Steve: ah, and practice kissing of course

--

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

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

Robin: That explains... so much.

--

Robin: OKAY THAT'S IT!

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

Eddie: What? of course we did!

Steve: Robs we know you're gay

Robin:

Robin: I'm moving out

[katyawriteswhump]

Can I help you? (steddie holiday drabble, day 10)

For @steddieholidaydrabbles day 10 prompt, shopping; and @whumpcember day 10 prompt, “Let me help you.”

WC: 985 Rating: M; CW: self-harm (wall punching); Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, established steddie, sexual content. Summary: After a crappy day serving holiday shoppers, Steve is gonna explode… or curl up and cry. Fortunately, he’s also got the best boyfriend ever.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

As the final customer left Scoops, Steve balled his fists. He was already late closing and still they’d been a dick about it. He hauled down the shutter, muffling the chaotic din of late-night-shoppers and the jangling hell-loop of holiday music.

Festive shoppers were fucking feral. And when Robin was off sick, work sucked.

He bagged the cash from the register, dumped it in the box, worrying about Robin, though she swore it was ‘only a super-disgusting cold.’ Plus, it was Hellfire night. His dream of catching five-minutes with Eddie beforehand was dead. It’d take hours to finish up without Robin, and… Fuuuuuck!

His foot flew from under him. He crashed backward, elbow whacking the counter. Pain bloomed then screamed, and worse…

…he’d dropped the cash box.

Coins rolled off toward every corner of the store, while Steve gawked at the villain of the piece—a banana skin. Like in a dumb cartoon, which figured. He was dressed like Popeye.

He slid down onto his butt, dumped his face into his hand, non-bruised elbow supported on one bare, hitched-up knee.

How did my shitty life come to this?

He’d worked non-stop for ten hours. He trembled with exhaustion, felt bruised inside and out—like he’d been repeatedly punched in the gut. Astonishing how many ‘merry’ customers proved hellbent on making him feel like dirt, and he shouldn’t care. He didn’t want to care, and yet…

…now he had to get up, collect the cash. Tough, when all he wanted was to curl up and cry.

The unlocked shutter creaked up. Steve’s chin snapped up with it. Dustin ducked under first, then Eddie, both in their Hellfire t-shirts.

“Woah!” said Dustin. He wasn’t pissing himself laughing. Yet. Steve figured he must look fucking hilarious, slumped against the counter. He didn’t even say ‘hi,’ instead scrunching his face against a snarling sob.

“What the hell happened?” Eddie rushed over, crouched beside him.

Steve’s sweary rant only made him feel dumber and more inarticulate, self-loathing skyrocketing till he smacked his fist into the nearest hard surface. Would’ve done it again, wrecking his knuckles, had not Eddie caught them—gently yet somehow inarguably, stroking with his thumb. “Steve, you’ve done amazingly. It’s gonna be okay. Dustin?” The kid zigzagged the store like a pinball, collecting scattered coins. “Call Gareth. We’re postponing Hellfire.”

“No way! I’m being a fucking muppet. You never postpone—”

“Tonight, the schemers of Baldor’s Gate will remain unprobed by bold adventurers!” boomed Eddie, those darn chocolate-button eyes managing to laugh and be soul-destroyingly sincere. Eddie jumped up, offered a hand: “Let me help you.”

Steve slipped his fingers into Eddie’s warm clasp, mouth quirking toward a ‘screw-it-all’ smile.

Dustin counted the float and takings. Eddie handled the paperwork, being used to similar crap at the bar where he worked. Steve left them to it, mopping the floor, rolling his eyes at himself when his bruises bitched.

After Dustin scooted off, Steve eased himself into a seat beside Eddie, who’d finished the banking. “Nice job,” Steve swept gross sweaty hair from his brow—Ugh, he was wrecked. “That could really be my handwriting.”

Eddie pulled a face, daftly adorable. “Forgery is, tragically, carved deep as metal into my bones.”

“You’re a fucking angel,” whispered Steve, suddenly unable to meet Eddie’s gaze. “I feel shitty. You shouldn’t have postponed Hellfire.”

“Yeah, I should. I have zero doubt you’d roam waaaay farther from your plotted route for any of your friends. Tho’ half of them are snot-nosed brats who’d never thank you.” Eddie rose and started massaging Steve’s shoulders, heels of his hands working the meat of Steve’s tension, thumbs tenderly caressing his nape. Steve’s snarled-up muscles didn’t exactly turn to putty. Still felt so nice.

“Anyhoo, I got me a shady ulterior motive.” Eddie’s breath drifted balmily across Steve’s cheek, sending a delicious shudder down his spine. “Not gonna miss out on an evening when my boyfriend is literally screaming-out to be dragged to bed.”

Steve’s smile spread slowly. This time, he felt it, warming his heart and the pit of his belly.

My boyfriend. Hearing that never got old.

“And… hark!” announced Eddie, in his best Dungeon-Master tones, “there’s also the not- insignificant-fact that I love you.”

Now, Steve was genuinely laughing, then sniffling, because he was choking up. He grabbed Eddie’s hand, bringing it to his lips. “Love you too.”

Soon, they huddled nose-to-nose under the tepid trickle of their shower. “Showtime,” beamed Eddie, as he glided his fingers up through Steve’s hair, lathering up the bubbles. Steve’s scalp tingled and he sighed, shivered. The graze of Eddie’s fingernails, even the slight burning-tug of the snags…

“How the hell do you make this feel so sublime?”

Eddie answered by brushing Steve’s parted lips with his own, then repeating over and over—which managed to be stupidly erotic—and their tongues tangled and touched.  Eddie’s relentless kisses sent Steve’s blood rushing south. On cue, Eddie’s sensual hands traced down Steve’s flanks, arrowing towards Steve’s needy dick.

It was a wonderfully lazy hand-job, but Steve couldn’t quite relax—this was too one-sided! He kinda squirmed, reaching for Eddie’s dick. Eddie batted him away, growling jokily into Steve’s mouth. “What do you not get about me taking care of you?”

“Whatever… fuck… you slay me, man… Gnnng!”

Steve flopped back against the tiles, arms flailing, knees turning to jello. Eddie flopped into him and stroked them both towards super-hot-messy orgasms.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve murmured, later, after they crawled into bed. The live-wire hum in his brain had faded, for sure, but he still wasn’t sure he’d sleep. “I wanna make up for Hellfire. Let’s fu—”

Eddie’s soft snore ruffled through Steve’s still-damp hair. Steve smiled tiredly. He had to face christmas shoppers again in eight-and-a-half hours. Life still kinda sucked… tho’ not all of it. At least Robin called, to say she’d be back. He watched Eddie sleep, until the entire crappy world crumbled to dust.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

tags: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the ask game (1)

au where bruce is attracted to his robins and batgirls. he tries not to think about it or act on it, but it's getting more difficult with every new member of his team he acquires. does anyone know? do the robins and batgirls notice his weird behavior? what do they do about it? do they ever find out the truth? who would think it's terrible and who would find it strangely hot/comforting/nice? does bruce ever act on his feelings?

for the ask game!

oh my GOD do i have thoughts for AUs like this, i love this shit so dearly, dirtybadwrong Bruce who's trying to keep a lid on it my beloved.

i think the fun of this AU is if characters would notice Bruce lusting for themselves vs would they notice Bruce lusting for a different Robin/Batgirl. like does Dick pick up on it when it's just him and Bruce? no, because it's just. him and Bruce. he and Bruce are weird and complicated and hold endless bounds of nuance. that's just How Bruce Is, and Dick is the "test run", in a sense. he knows Bruce is new to this whole sidekick/family thing and is giving Bruce grace for being rough around the edges. but when Bruce starts looking at Jason or Tim or Cass that way, that's when Dick starts to notice. it's never enough of a suspicion he feels justified to bring it up, but the thought lingers. he's hyperaware and grows less and less comfortable with leaving them alone with Bruce. it's a weird game of chicken, Dick and Bruce staring each other down when Bruce's touch lingers too long. each waiting for the other to say something first. if Bruce ever broke and actually acted on his feelings, Dick would be eaten alive by the guilt of knowing something was up, but never saying something until it was too late.

obviously, Cass would know. there's no world where Cass *doesn't* know, the nature of who and what she is would immediately clock it. but the issue is, Cass doesn't have a good framework of what family looks like. she doesn't really understand familial vs romantic love bc she has no firsthand experience of what a parent's love should even look like. so she never calls it out. she just watches. i'm a fan of Cass believing this is normal and believing she too can express and act on attraction that's vaguely incestuous. maybe it's with Babs, maybe it's with Dick or Tim or Bruce himself. but she recognizes this as Normal and Accepted within the Batfamily, so it severely fucks up her understanding of familial love and i just. man it's my favorite thing about Cass in Batcest honestly, is how you can play with her lack of experience with love, boundaries, and sexuality.

Tim is the fun one for me. because my favorite flavor of BruTim is when Tim knows, as he agrees to be Robin, that there's a non-zero chance that Bruce is going to be Weird and agrees anyway because he's decided it's an acceptable risk. so Tim knows from the get-go because he's expecting it. if Bruce acts on his attraction, i think it's either with Tim or Cass first, because they're the most likely to confront him about it in a way that isn't entirely negative. Tim has accepted it's a possibility and Cass just seeks being loved and touched so. it leads to the first time someone's ever confronted Bruce about it. and the thing is, Bruce really doesn't like confrontation about his flaws. the first time Tim tries to imply he's okay with it, Bruce would lash out at the idea, tell Tim how inappropriate that is and benches Tim for a week. it'd probably take a united front from Cass and Tim to get Bruce to even *admit* to the attraction. still Bruce wouldn't allow it to happen and he brushes them off until finally, the dam breaks. it's fun if there's a cause like sex pollen, but i think it's *more* fun if it's just. a random fucking Tuesday and finally Bruce is at his limit. he has no real reason, there's nothing particularly different about that day's routine. he just sees Tim or Cass striping armor and sighs and gives in.

i don't think Steph, Jason, or Babs would notice until anything substantial happened. not because they're not wicked smart, but just because none of them were looking for it. Jason put Bruce on a pedestal when he was alive, and when he came back from the dead he wasn't close enough to be noticing Bruce's interpersonal dynamics outside of his narrow scope. Steph has no real framework for what healthy fatherhood looks like, so if Bruce's touches linger, if he stares too long, she just shrugs and assumes it's how it is. and Babs was just never quite close enough to Bruce to notice. if and when she notices, is when actual sexual things start to happen between Cass and Bruce. because Cass would see no reason to hide it. Babs would be pissed, but it'd be tricky to navigate. Cass would be an adult, even if she's only 18/19, so technically, she's old enough to be consenting. if nothing else, Bruce is a careful man. even when he breaks and gives in to his desires, he covers his tracks well. he makes sure he has enthusiastic consent and there's no legal recourse that could be taken. age of consent and all that. there's not much Babs can *do* other than try to tell Cass (and/or Tim) that this isn't normal or okay. not that it gets her anywhere, but god would she try.

by the time Duke comes along (if we venture out of the pre-Flashpoint era) i think it's a sort of. open secret, in the Batfamily. talked about in nothing but hushed whispers and knowing glances. at some point, they've all had sex with Bruce, caving all for different reasons. some more than others. Tim sees it as a duty, Cass sees it as a way of seeking comfort, Steph sees it as getting Bruce's approval for once, etc. it's never forced on them, but eventually, they all come to Bruce sooner or later. and that's the fun irony of it, i think. they try to convince the others not to, but would go to Bruce on their own well. because complicated reasons they can't put into words. sometimes, Bruce is just a messy man who doesn't realize how prized his Attention to for the rest of the Batfamily. that weird duality of not liking him, but also wanting desperately for him to like you. all of them have dealt with it, at some point. so for Duke, it takes a while for him to understand this... whole dynamic. it's Cass who tries to explain it to him, and he's a little horrified, a lot confused. especially when Bruce starts staring at him a little too long as well. i think he'd only want to watch first but well. they all cave eventually.

also fun bonus if we venture into the Dark Knight Returns universe for my bestest girl Carrie Kelley: there's such a like, "i'm fucking around and i'm finding out" vibe to Carrie. like Tim, she's very proactive in just. deciding she's going to be Robin and she's ready for whatever that entails. (IMO canon Carrie is closer to fanon Tim than canon Tim is but *that* deserves its own post-) like she takes one look at the old man that is Batman and goes yup. he's never fucking getting rid of me now. if Bruce started having weird feelings about her, i think she'd have *fun* with it. she's decided she's in it for the long haul and for whatever being Robin means so. she's almost teasing about it, seeing how hard she can push before Bruce snaps. since it's an older, gruffer Bruce, i think he'd express open annoyance at it first, almost a sort of banter about how Carrie behave. but of course he caves and Carrie leans into it, because there's a fun in having all of Bruce's attention to herself. in the main timeline, Bruce is pretty split with so many Robins and Batgirls, but during their era, it's *just* her and him and she's very proud she's got him all to herself.

[steddieas-shegoes]

it's not ever what it looks like

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not daily for over a week.

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

And now this article.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All of them had said mostly the same things:

I can't get ahold of Eddie.

He wouldn't do this.

Something else is going on.

Call me when you can.

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

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

Steve called Gareth.

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

"What's going on?"

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

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

"Steve-"

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

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

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

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

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

Until now.

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

No time to wallow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nothing happened!"

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

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

Steve nodded once.

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

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

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

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

Eddie walked through his door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I needed to explain-"

"Right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Many of them from Eddie himself.

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

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

But then he started playing the voicemails.

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

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

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

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

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

"Well?" He asked, broken.

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

"Great for him."

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.

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

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

He just needed to feel him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”

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

That bastard.

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

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

“What?”

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

“What the hell are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So you're not saying no?"

"Why would I say no?"

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

"You're ridiculous."

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

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

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

"I'm not doing that."

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

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

"The sooner the better, sweetheart."