#steve harrington dividers

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steve harrington dividers:

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[strangergraphics]

scoops ahoy themed masterlist dividers:

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[fuctacles]

The sound of a promise

For @stevieweek Day 6: Queer culture | M | 1997 | Steddie | some gender dysphoria (voice), cat lady stevie universe sequel, transfem Steve, age gap, pre-relationship, spice&fluff Stevie Week: Day 1 | Day 2 (art) | Day 3 (art) | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

!We dive straight into smut but it's not very descriptive!

Steph makes a few aborted sounds in her throat before slapping her hand against her mouth while Eddie pounds into her. Her muffled sounds make him look up and notice that she's silencing herself and his hips still. 

She blinks up at him, confused at his sudden stillness.

"Does it not feel good?" he asks with a slight pout to his lips.

She shakes her head immediately.

"It does," she croaks out before slapping the hand back over her mouth. Eddie frowns.

"Then I want to hear it. Please."

She shakes her head again, but it's small and hesitant this time. She spreads her fingers, not ready to take the hand away, but wanting to be heard.

"I can't control my voice, you know..." She makes a vague gesture to her mouth, her neck, and the vocal cords beneath. "Like this. There's only so much estrogen can do."

Eddie's heart breaks for her. He sits back, most of him slipping out, and caresses her thigh. 

"What do you mean?"

She sighs, but the soft touch on her skin helps her calm down and gather her thoughts. 

"Hormones don't just... change my voice. They kind of help expand my vocal range so that I can hit the higher notes, and sound the way I do every day. But I can still use the lower notes, and sometimes they just... slip out." She winces.

"Stevie." She looks up at him. "Stephanie, Steph." Eddie leans forward again, and she presses her lips together when his dick moves inside her too. "You're a woman, and your voice won't change that, not to me. I want to know I make you feel good. I want to hear it's so good you can forget yourself, and let loose. I want you to trust me that it won't change how I see you."

Despite his words and the blush on her cheeks, she doesn't seem convinced. So he adds, mercilessly:

"Please."

Stephanie nods and lets him take her hand away from her face. He presses his lips to her palm, watching her cheeks redden further.

"Thank you."

Wayne has taught him to be polite and respectful to women but he never knew such simple words would make someone squirm under him like that. It makes him want to bring her flowers and kiss her goodnight, knowing she'll eat it up and turn these beautiful shades of pink and crimson just for him.

He presses her hand to the mattress and resumes his movements. Slow at first, because his dick lost the plot for a second, but as soon as he felt himself get into full hardness again, he braced himself with the intent to bruise.

"Let me hear you," he said, slamming into the woman beneath him. 

She whimpered, at first, and Eddie let her ease into it, observing her slowly part her lips and let the music flow. The breathy little ohs and ahs, the whines that follow, and finally, when he hit the right spot, a choked-off moan.

"Like that," he praised immediately. "Shit, you sound so hot."

And when she looked into his eyes, moaning and whining unashamedly, her self-consciousness gone, Eddie lost it.

He dove down to bite into her mouth and she accepted it happily, sharing her moans, the high ones, and the low ones, directly into him. With her free arm, she grasped his shoulder, trying to pull him even closer, and he let go of her other hand so they could wrap around each other, pressing tight until their bones crushed, only their mouths and hips allowed to move freely.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Eddie chanted into the corner of her mouth. "Steph."

"Eddie. I'm gonna—"

It's all the warning he gets before her heels dig into his back to pull him impossibly deeper and she comes. Her blunt nails digging into his skin are the last straw for him. 

"Fuck!" he grits out, spilling into the condom, and his thrusts finally weaken, turning into a shallow sway until he stills, breathing heavily against her neck, where he presses his mouth because not touching her wherever he can right now would be torture. Slowly, as he regains control over his muscles, he starts pressing light kisses there. 

"You were perfect. So beautiful. So hot. And you sound divine."

Despite his body's protests, he pushes himself up, because he needs to look her in the eyes.

"So good I could record you and take you with me to Indy, for the lonely nights."

"Oh my god, stop." She turns her head away, face twisting with embarrassment. But Eddie presses on. 

"Those little moans you make, the ohs," he tries to imitate the breathy sounds she made and watches her cheeks bloom. "The ahs. Perfect. Thank you for letting me hear them."

"Uh, sure," she offers.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. 

"You sound like you don't believe me."

All she can give him to that is a shrug. So he moves his hips, making her hiss from how sensitive she is, and pulls out from her. He can feel her eyes following as he gets up to dispose of the condom and goes for the door, closed against the four-legged intruders. 

"Towel? Shower?" he asks, but she shakes her head, lifting herself on her hands to point towards the window.

"Just throw me this one. It's going into the laundry anyway."

Eddie grabs the towel, smelling faintly of hair conditioner, off the radiator. Instead of handing it over though, he sits on top of Stephanie's thighs to wipe the cum off her belly himself. 

"Such a gentleman," she comments, with amusement in her tone. 

"Well, I try to treat a lady how she deserves to be treated." He gives her his winning smile, the one he uses to charm his way out of trouble and get an extra cookie at the cafeteria. It must be working, because she finally softens, the lines on her forehead smoothing out as her expression opens up like she's starting to believe his words. 

"You saw my... you know."

"Sure did." Eddie nods with a cheeky grin. "And she's pretty like the rest of you." He grabs her dick to clean thoroughly around it and wipes gently at the tip to make his point. Steph's breath hitches at the way he addresses her genitals. 

"And you heard my voice."

"I hear It all the time," he points out, nudging her knees up to gently wipe the lube from around her rim.

"Yeah, but not like this," she says, lowering her voice on purpose. Her eyes are piercing and testing, and Eddie looks up to meet them.

"I'm a musician, I love a woman with a wide vocal range." He sits up though, his smile wilting. "Do you want to scare me off? Because it's not working, but if you want me to leave, just tell me," he says with a frown. He's been doing his best to be gentle and accommodating. True, he's not dealt with trans people before, but he thought he was doing well. "If I crossed a line somewhere, or did something wrong—"

"No, no, you're good," she cuts him off with a furious shake of her head. "I think I just need a moment."

Eddie gives her a puzzled look. He folds the towel in his hands nervously. 

"Okay. Do you want me to leave, or..."

"No, just come here."

Instead of being shunned out of her flat, he's being pulled down, chest against chest. He quickly gets the memo and straightens his legs until he's laying like a blanket on top of her, arms bent awkwardly to cradle her shoulders, head in the crook of her neck. 

Stephanie tries to be quiet, but eventually, she can't hold back the wet sniffle that alarms Eddie.

"Shit, are you crying?" He tries to look up, but she presses his head back into her neck so he can't move.

"Shut up," she says, but doesn't sound angry. So he settles back down, tries to wrap his arms around her to provide the comfort she clearly needs, and lets her feel whatever she's feeling, fingers gently tracing her skin. 

When he can feel her breath and heartbeat settle down, he asks without looking up:

"Were these good tears?"

She snorts.

"Of course they were, idiot."

He huffs out an amused breath against her neck, making her shoulder jump against the ticklish feeling. 

"I haven't been treated this nice in a long while. It's a lot."

Eddie hums against her skin. He doesn't have the words to help, but he understands the feeling so he hugs her tighter against him.

"I get it," is all he can offer. It's like the first time Wayne had praised him after years of living with his parents. He bawled his eyes out back then, not understanding why. "I'll treat you nice every time, I can't imagine doing it any other way."

Her breath quickens again.

"See?" she asks wetly, almost accusingly. "And now you're promising me more. You can't do that."

"Why not?" Eddie frowns. But he's still not allowed to look up. 

"You go to college. You don't even live here."

"I live here sometimes," he corrects. "And I have a feeling I'll be visiting more often now."

She huffs but doesn't say anything. 

"What? Long distance doesn't work for you?" he half-jokes.

"You make it sound like it's a relationship," she says and Eddie cannot decipher her tone. She sounds accusatory, hurt, and annoyed all at once. 

He finally breaks from her grasp but gives her the comfort of no eye contact. Just settles more comfortably against her collarbone, not crushing her to the bed anymore. He throws his leg and arm over her, wrapping Steph in a comforting touch she so clearly lacks. 

"It could be," he says. 

She doesn't say anything at first, but he senses another scoff on the tip of her tongue.

"Could it?" she counters eventually. Eddie hums.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it?"

"I'm older than you."

This time it's Eddie who scoffs. 

"You're beautiful and funny and have only one too many cats. I think you're fine. And if you have like, a deadly old-lady disease you haven't told me about, that's all the more reason to spend the time you have left being properly fucked and wooed and courted."

"I like how you set the priorities there."

He slaps her hip gently.

"Like you didn't like it."

"I did, I did." She reaches into his hair to gently scratch his scalp. "Can we come back to this?" she asks, but there's an almost pleading tone in her voice. "Next time you visit, we can talk about it."

He doesn't like the idea of waiting until his next break, but if she needs that space, he'll give it to her. 

"Of course."

The signals he's getting are confusing, but he hasn't been told a straightforward 'no' yet, and the hand in his hair is nice and gentle, so he thinks his odds are quite good. He understands the need to think things through even if he's a man of impulsive decisions himself. 

"When do you have to leave?"

Eddie turns to look at the Garfield clock on Steph's bedside table. If he doesn't leave right now, he'll run into traffic outside of the city later. But if he waits a few hours, he'll catch a nice view of the sunset and will be back in his flat shortly after sundown. He doesn't have classes until noon tomorrow anyway. 

"I have enough time for a nap and round two," he decides, looking back at her.

"Perfect." She smiles sweetly, craning her neck down to kiss him. Then she flips them until she's the one cuddling into him, and he positively shudders when he wraps his arms around the soft body pressed against him, cradling her to his chest. 

"Yeah, perfect," he agrees, closing his eyes.

[steveseddie]

helping hand

written for round one of @steddiebingo and the 12 days of Christmas mini-event | prompts: help & thigh fucking | rating: e | wc: 2,1k | no cw | tags: eddie lives, sharing a bed, hand jobs, thigh fucking, cuddling

read on ao3

According to Wayne, Eddie can sleep through anything.

It’s why he was late to school pretty much every day. That and the fact that he didn’t give a shit about it– but mostly because he always slept through his alarm clock.

But the thing is that to sleep through anything he needs to be asleep to begin with. And right now he can’t fall asleep because Steve hasn’t stopped tossing and turning in the past hour.

When Eddie comes close to falling asleep for what feels like the hundredth time only for Steve to twist around again, he can’t help but let out a frustrated sigh.

Steve freezes as he’s fixing the blanket around him. “Um, did I wake you?” he asks in a tiny voice.

“I’d have to be asleep for you to wake me up, big boy.”

Running his hands down his face, Steve groans. “Shit, sorry, man.”

“‘S fine, Stevie.” He gives Steve a sidelong glance. Thanks to the moonlight filtering through the window he can see that he’s frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just– Can’t sleep.”

“I got that much, dude,” Eddie says with a snort. He hesitates, biting his lip nervously. “Um, is it because of me?”

It might’ve been Steve who suggested they shared his bed tonight, but maybe he changed his mind or maybe he only did it because he was trying to be polite and he expected Eddie to turn down the offer–

Steve frantically shakes his head. “No! No–”

Eddie isn’t convinced. “Are you sure? Because I can go–”

“No,” Steve says, more firmly this time. “Eddie, I promise, I’m just restless, s’all.”

Eddie relaxes. “Okay, yeah, I get that. It happens to me a lot, especially after– you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs in sympathy. “So what do you do? When it happens?”

“Uh–” Eddie hesitates, a little worried that answering truthfully might make sharing a bed a bit awkward. Oh fuck it, he thinks. It was Steve who asked. “I usually just– you know, jerk off.”

Steve inhales sharply. He lets out a tiny, “Oh.”

And there’s the awkwardness.

Before Eddie can offer to take the couch again, Steve asks, “Does that, um– does that work for you?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Oh, like a charm. Makes me sleep like a baby.”

“I could use some of that,” Steve sighs longingly.

Eddie agrees– he’s noticed the black smudges under Steve’s eyes. “Well, I could, uh– go to the bathroom for a while if you want to–”

Steve sputters. “I’m not gonna ask you to go to the bathroom so I can jerk off!”

“Fine, then you can go to the bathroom. I’ll cover my ears, I promise,” Eddie says, trying to act casual but the truth is that if Steve actually took him up on the offer, Eddie’s brain would melt out of his ears just from knowing Steve is jerking off in the next room.

“Jesus, how loud do you think I am, man?” Steve asks with an incredulous laugh.

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve given it much thought.” He has given it plenty of thought actually but Steve doesn’t need to know that. “Just trying to be helpful here, Stevie.”

“There’s something else you could do if you want to help,” Steve whispers after a short silence. He sounds strangely shy, nervous. He can’t possibly mean–

“Steve,” Eddie says, trying to keep his voice leveled. “Are you asking me to get you off?”

There’s a short moment where Steve doesn’t say anything and Eddie worries that he just made things even more awkward by assuming that’s what he meant, but before he can spiral he hears Steve’s soft reply. “Maybe.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters out loud though mostly to himself but Steve hears it anyway and lets out a panicked yelp.

“Christ, you know what? That was stupid.”

“Steve–”

But Steve ignores him, rolling on his side, away from Eddie, and as far as he can without falling off the bed. “Forget I said anything, you don’t have to–”

“I want to!” Eddie blurts out, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Uh, if– if it will help you.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that,” Steve says, still facing away from Eddie.

“I’m offering,” he says. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens to him and it definitely won’t be happening twice but he wants it– God, does he want it– so he moves closer, putting his hand on Steve’s waist, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

Steve’s entire body shudders. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Please, Eddie.”

Oh, shit.

Just the thought of doing this is enough to make Eddie’s blood rush downward, making his dick half hard so he’s careful to keep his hips angled away from Steve’s back as he scoots closer to him, moving his hand from Steve’s waist to his lower stomach, feeling his skin erupt in goosebumps beneath his touch.

“I got you, Stevie,” he whispers, fingers moving down, playing with Steve’s happy trail. He’s already panting and Eddie still hasn’t even touched him.

Jesus fucking Christ, he needs to touch him.

He slides his hand lower until his knuckles bump against Steve’s cock over his boxers. “You’re already half hard, sweetheart? Is this what was actually keeping you up?”

Steve lets out a low moan. He didn’t ask Eddie for a running commentary, just a helping hand, but Eddie can’t stop himself. He’s a loud guy through and through, so unless Steve tells him to shut up, he’ll keep running his mouth. Steve seems to be into it anyway.

He lazily strokes Steve’s cock over his boxers to get him to full hardness. Fuck, he’s big, Eddie thinks. He can’t wait to feel Steve’s hot skin–

“Can I touch you?” Eddie whispers into his ear.

“Yes, yeah,” Steve agrees quickly.

So Eddie slips his hand inside Steve’s boxers, sighing happily when he wraps his fingers around his hard length.

The touch makes Steve throw his head back with a groan, almost smashing it against Eddie’s nose. Thankfully he doesn’t, even though not even a bloody nose would make Eddie give up the chance to get Steve off.

However he does prop himself up with the arm he isn’t using to touch Steve so his head rests against Eddie’s shoulder so as to not risk an injury– and because it allows him to peer over Steve’s shoulder and watch how his hand looks wrapped around his cock.

And God the sight gets Eddie to full hardness, making his mouth water.

He starts stroking him slowly, gathering the precum from the tip and smearing it down and around Steve’s cock but it’s not enough.

When he lets go entirely, Steve whines, hips thrusting forward, chasing after Eddie’s touch.

Eddie shushes him gently. “‘M not going anywhere, sweetheart. Here, spit,” he says, holding his hand close to Steve’s mouth. He does as he’s told without hesitation. Eddie can’t stop himself from kissing Steve’s nape. “Good boy.”

“Oh, G-god,” Steve moans brokenly. It trails off into a high-pitched whine when Eddie wraps his hand around him again, the slide of his hand smoother now from Steve’s spit.

He pumps him loosely. “Better?”

“Y–yeah,” Steve manages, panting now.

The elastic of his boxers makes Eddie’s movements a little clumsy but Steve fixes it by jerkily shoving them down. While doing that, his ass presses back against Eddie’s front and there’s no way for him to hide that he’s fully hard in his own boxers.

But instead of shoving Eddie away or calling him out on it, Steve groans and shuffles back until Eddie’s chest presses against his back and Eddie’s cock is nestled against Steve’s now naked ass.

“Fucking– fuck,” Eddie chokes out, momentarily stopping his hand so he can get his breathing over control.

“Eddie–” Steve whines, his hips twitching and fucking his cock into Eddie’s fist. It pushes his ass back against Eddie’s crotch, which does little to help Eddie focus.

“‘M here, baby,” Eddie whispers, his teeth clamped over his lip. Steve’s hips are still moving–

But he starts stroking him again, reminding himself that this is about Steve.

“Oh God, yes,” he moans loudly.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be loud,” Eddie mutters in awe.

Steve lets out a choked laugh. “I thought– I thought you didn’t give it much– oh fuck, much thought.”

“I fucking lied,” Eddie admits with a scoff.

“I– I lied too,” Steve says, his breath coming faster when Eddie tightens his grip. “You were the reason, fuck– the reason why I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking, oh God– thinking about how I wanted to be doing this instead.”

Something hot burns in Eddie’s stomach. “Well, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

“Can– can I ask for something else?” Steve says shyly despite him currently grinding his ass against Eddie in an obscene way.

“Anything.”

“Fuck my thighs?” He asks, twisting his neck so he can look at Eddie, his eyes half-lidded, his pupils blown wide.

Eddie is pretty sure his brain momentarily short circuits.

When he doesn’t reply right away, Steve blindly reaches behind him, his hand connecting with Eddie’s hip. He clumsily tugs on his boxers, trying to get them off.

It snaps Eddie out of it. “Yes, yeah, fucking– yeah,” he mutters, momentarily letting go of Steve so he can shove his boxers down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach.

He gives himself a few strokes– to take the edge off and to spread the precum along his length until his cock is wet and shiny.

“Come here,” Steve says and Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. He shuffles closer, angling the head of his dick forward, lining it up so it slides between Steve’s thighs.

And when it does, they both moan loudly at the same time.

Eddie takes a few deep breaths then reaches for Steve’s cock. The inside of Steve’s thighs is so warm and soft and he knows he’s not gonna last long, but he’ll make sure to make Steve come.

He makes sure his grip is tighter this time, his movements faster. He times them with his own thrusts, his cock sliding wetly in and out Steve’s meaty thighs.

“You feel fucking perfect, Steve,” Eddie groans, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder blade. The praise makes Steve whimper, his cock pulsing in Eddie’s hand. “You gonna come, sweetheart?”

Breathing coming faster, Steve manages, “Yeah– yeah. So fuckin’ close.”

“Me too, baby,” he admits. It doesn’t surprise him, he’s currently experiencing the hottest moment of his entire existence.

The closer he gets, the more his movements turn clumsier, more desperate– desperate to come, to make Steve come.

It’s when Eddie gives Steve’s shoulder a playful little bite at the same time that he twists his hand on the upstroke that Steve’s back arches and he moans loud and shaky as his cock pulses hotly into his hand.

Steve’s noises as he comes and the way his thighs tighten around Eddie’s cock are enough to bring him over the edge after only a few more thrusts and he paints Steve’s legs with cum.

They lay like that for a few seconds, catching their breath. Eddie starts to drift off, feeling tired and floaty.

“So you think you can fall asleep now?” He asks, breaking the silence.

Steve lets out a soft little giggle. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Eddie grins triumphantly. “Happy to be of service, Your Majesty,” he says with a twist of his cum-covered hand.

Steve’s nose wrinkles as his eyes land on it, but there’s a trace of fond amusement in the look he throws at Eddie over his shoulder. He grabs a handful of tissues from his nightstand and uses them to clean Eddie’s hand and himself before they both shove their boxers back on and get back under the covers.

Eddie rolls to his side. “Before you fall asleep and because I know it’ll keep me up if I don’t ask– was that like, just a hookup or do you like, like me?” He grimaces, burying his face into a pillow. “God, I sound like a twelve year old.”

Steve laughs, but not unkindly. “I like you, Eddie,” he says, and when Eddie lifts his head to look at him, Steve leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s sleep and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Smiling, Eddie nods. That’s fine by him.

Steve turns around, facing away again and Eddie wraps his arm around him, burrowing his face into the back of his neck.

They’re both asleep in a matter of seconds.

[citrusandrottefruit]

Diagnosed with Hanahaki, a genetic autoimmune disease, as a child, Steve has learned to live with it. Along the way, he finds a family and falls in love with Eddie. He is never cured, but he lives.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Being diagnosed as a child meant that Steve didn’t have to tell anyone about Hanahaki, because his parents were the ones managing everything related to his health, and anyone he might want to share this information with was another child, so he had no reason to. Because of all this, Steve didn’t develop any particularly effective methods of announcing that he was sick. His parents told his teachers, babysitters, or nannies. The hospital staff just had to read his medical records.

Being Mrs. Harrington's son taught Steve to be discreet, because he learned that letting other people know could be painful and embarrassing. A show of weakness, sometimes. A part of him so intimate, so vulnerable, so shameful, so frightening that he could never even bring himself to share it with Tommy or Carol.

So when he sat down across from Wayne, a week after he had talked to Eddie and had reintegrated himself into the Munsons’ daily lives, he wondered how to do that. Eddie, who had been watching him out of the corner of his eye, seemed so nervous that Wayne began to look between them, suspicious and curious. Steve figured he hadn’t asked anything yet because he wanted to let them talk first.

He also wondered if Wayne was expecting some kind of different news.

“Wayne,” Steve called, because that was what he had been instructed to call Wayne. “I told Eddie something last week, and I thought I should tell you, too.”

“You don’t owe me anything, son.”

Despite his words, Wayne’s face showed that he wanted to know. Besides, Steve disagreed. He couldn’t just insert himself so deeply into someone’s life without alerting them to the danger he posed.

“I have Hanahaki. It’s not something new, so it’s not like I’m going to drop dead at any minute, and it’s not like I’m learning how to deal with it. I’m fine, I have access to treatment and medication, and I’m not freaking out about it all.” He said it all at once, hoping that throwing out all the information without wasting any time would ensure that Wayne wouldn’t worry.

Eddie frowned and kept casting sidelong glances at Steve, though he also exchanged deep looks with Wayne. They had that ability, a bit like Steve’s with Robin, of communicating without saying a single word.

Steve’s ears felt like they were plugged with cotton, but he heard Wayne finally speak. It felt like ages had passed.

“Steve.” He hadn’t dared look directly at Wayne yet, but he couldn’t help but do just that when he heard the crack in his voice. 

After everything that had happened with Eddie just three and a half months ago, Steve was more than familiar with reading the pain and fear on Mr. Munson’s face. He hadn’t expected to be the cause of the same kind of expression.

“Are you really okay?” 

“Not my best moment, but yeah. I’ve got it under control now.” 

“What can I do? What can we,” he gestured between himself and Eddie, “do to help?”

“I… I guess just by being here.”

Wayne nodded silently. 

Steve figured he needed time to process everything and that he would want some answers, so he let the minutes pass while he tried to organize in his mind which parts of his life he would have to expose. The truth was that he wanted to keep it all to himself and pretend that everything was fine, but the doctors had been warning him for years that there would come a time when he could no longer pretend, that it would help if he didn't worry about keeping everything so secret, and that he could only have a normal life if he had more support.

He couldn't ask for any of this with a clear conscience if he didn't clarify at least a few points.

So he told him about how his mother developed Hanahaki first and how his parents made sure he got the best treatment possible and how his father organized Steve's finances into profitable investments so that he would always have some income even if he could no longer work.

“Is that all they did?”

The question took Steve by surprise and he didn’t know how to answer. His parents weren’t with him, they barely cared, and Steve didn’t even know for sure how his mother’s health was doing, even though the two were mirror images of each other, but Mr. Harrington had made a considerable effort for him. Granted, the money invested in Steve’s name was what was always meant for him, to pay for college, and granted that his parents didn’t think it was worth it for Steve to go to college, because he wasn’t smart and wouldn’t be able to manage his studies while working and taking care of his health. It wasn’t an extra gift, but it was a lot. It was much more than most people had.

His parents weren't sacrificing or giving up what was theirs, but they never denied Steve anything, so it was okay.

They had never been good at parenting. The way things were, Steve would most likely cause crisis after crisis for his mother, angering his father so much that he couldn't handle his wife, and in return, Steve would do the same for them. They would kill each other. Being apart would provide more stability than they would have together.

Despite their fragile bonds, the Harringtons had done what they could to keep Steve alive, and he wouldn't dare complain about it.

So Steve didn't answer, because he didn't want anyone to think he was convalescing from missing his parents, and he also didn't want to lie.

But that same night, as he and Eddie sat in the backyard, with four feet between them, Steve thought, "Why not?" and he spoke.

If he was going to pursue any relationship with Eddie, Eddie needed to know everything.

“I think my dad triggered Hanahaki on my mom,” he said suddenly, his tone flat and disinterested and almost too low. Eddie listened, because he was more attentive than ever to every sound Steve made. It was both scary and exciting.

Steve took advantage of the attention and said things he had never dared to say out loud before. About how Mrs. Harrington liked to pretend everything was fine, about how his parents were tight and traveled together all year long. About how he could expect a fifteen-minute phone call every month, except sometimes it was no more than five minutes, just to check in and see if he was still alive.

Eddie was so angry and indignant to hear this that Steve was happy and allowed himself to feel like he had to defend his parents. Because this time, he didn’t have to be the one fighting to validate all the hurt his parents had caused. Eddie was doing that on his own.

“They know I’m alive because they get updates on my health all the time. Sometimes they mention a procedure I’ve had. They call to hear from me that I’m alive.”

“I don’t like your parents,” Eddie muttered under his breath. “If you were mine, I’d be with you all the time.”

Steve smiled fondly.

“You are now.”

After that, the next conversation was with Joyce and Hopper. Both Eddie and Robin had volunteered to be there, but wanting to do it alone and away from the kids, he asked Eddie to go out with them and make sure they were distracted. 

Besides, as much as he wanted someone by his side, needing other people so much was exactly what he had been avoiding. 

So he ended up alone in the Byer-Hopper kitchen, under the watchful eye of an anxious and worried Joyce. She kept glancing over her shoulder at Steve as she paced around for no apparent reason, under the pretense of needing to prepare dinner even though she had already said that some groceries were missing and Hopper had gone to get them.

They made small talk as Steve helped chop some vegetables and grew increasingly restless, eager to get home and hug Eddie or Robin. Then he realized he had been thinking of the Munson residence as “home” and redirected his thoughts to imagine a quiet evening watching movies or walking around town (since he had started to feel more tired and weak, Steve had gained a greater appreciation for walking than ever before). 

The sound of the door opening followed by grunts and heavy footsteps caught his attention, and both Steve and Joyce turned to face Hopper. He stopped, scanning the entire room and craned his neck back toward the stairs, as alert as everyone always seemed to be after everything. 

“Steve came to visit.”

“The kids are with Munson.” Hopper grunted.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you two about something I’ll talk to them about later.”

“Do they want you to ask them for something?” Joyce asked, frowning. “I’m sorry if they dragged you into any of their plans, Steve.”

“No, no, it’s something I really want to talk about, I haven’t talked to them about any of this yet.”

“Well, do it.” Hopper encouraged.

Then, in what was very similar to the conversation with Wayne, Steve told him about Hanahaki and the treatment. He wasn't surprised by the tears or the hug from Joyce, but Hopper's hand on his shoulder, her broken voice, and his hasty exit were more than Steve had expected.

“Give him some time.” Joyce asked. “He’ll be back. You still have things to say, right?”

“Sort of, but I can come back later.”

“Would you prefer this? Come back later?”

He opened his mouth, not knowing how to respond to that. What he really wanted was to say it right away and leave, but Steve also wanted to respect their space, to give them time to think.

“I can come back later.”

Joyce didn’t answer, she just kept running her eyes all over Steve’s face. Then she sighed and gave him an awkward smile.

“Or we can keep cooking, come here. Help me organize the groceries, so we can continue.”

They didn’t have much time before Hopper returned, much more stoic than when he’d left.

“So, Steve. If I understand correctly, you’ve been sick for over 10 years.”

“Yes, sir.”

“In 1983, you were already sick.” Hopper pointed out the obvious, as if he were trying to steer the conversation somewhere specific. Steve nodded. “We’ve been to the hospital several times since then, and it’s been months since everything’s been back to normal. Why are we only hearing about this now?”

“I was stable. I still am, actually, but my rate of decline, even outside of acute flare-ups, has been worse. The daily symptoms, the things I feel even when I’m fine, have been more intense.” Steve explained, measuring his words as he spoke. “If the Ups… If something happens again, I don’t think I can be someone you can trust, because I won’t be able to protect the children.”

“Oh my Gosh, Steve.” Joyce covered her mouth and looked at the floor.

“It’s not that big of a deal, to be honest. It’s not like I’m going to die tomorrow.” He probably didn’t add. He probably wasn’t going to die any time soon. “I’m responding well to the treatment. Besides, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you two: the worry of administering Hanahaki while trying to hide it from other people doesn’t, uh, mix well with the treatment.”

“And this treatment. How are you paying for it? Do you have to have weekly sessions or something?” Hopper asked.

“No, I’m just on some medication, if any complications arise I’ll go to the hospital and find out what can be done. Other than that, I’ve been having monthly checkups for monitoring. And my parents. They’re paying for everything.”

“That’s less than the least those two could do.”

“Hop!” Joyce clapped him on the shoulder, and though he mumbled something inept that Steve assumed was an apology, he didn’t sound the least bit remorseful. He looked furious.

“Anyway,” Steve started again, “you don’t need to worry about that. I’m fine. What’s bothering you is the kids.” 

Hopper looked at him, alarmed. 

“The kids? What’s wrong with them?” 

“I need to tell them. Since you’re Will and El’s parents, and you’re important to the Party, I know you might have. Worries? Fears? With me being around them. It wouldn’t be easy for them if something happened to me, so I understand if you want me to give them some space.” 

“What are you talking about? Even if we decided to push you guys away, I’m sure they’d find a way to drag you back. They’d probably set up camp in your living room.” 

“We’d never do that, Steve, because we love you too, you know that, right?” Joyce asked as she approached, pulling him into a hug he hadn’t even prepared for yet. 

A knot in Steve’s chest loosened. 

That night, even though he had been invited to stay and have dinner, Steve returned to the apartment alone. He called Eddie and Robin, who kept asking where he was, and when he finally felt alone and at peace, he began to cry.

Tag list | @estrellami-1 @drips-and-drabbles15 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @wonderland-girl143-blog @eyehartart

[oneawkwardwriter]

Make Belief

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader warnings/tags: fake dating trope, Steve saving reader from an idiot (Billy) confusing thoughts and feelings summary: Steve pretends to be your boyfriend to get you out of a nasty situation, but now you have to keep up the charade a/n: I wrote this before I was even on tumblr, thought I'd post it since I've been sucked back into my Steve Harrington obsession wc: 3.4k

It was a day like any other at Hawkins High. You stood in front of your locker, putting away some books you didn’t want to take home until you heard a cough coming from someone behind you.

As you turned around, you saw Billy Hargrove standing there with a smug look on his face. Billy was known to be a bully, and to be even associated with him made your stomach turn. He looked up and down while licking his lips, and you would give almost anything to slap that smirk off his face.

“What do you want, Hargrove?” You asked, wanting this to be over with as quick as possible.

“Come, come, not so hostile, sweetie. I just wanted to know what you were doing this evening,” He answered, talking down to you as if you were a child.

Before you could turn down his advances, a hand slithered around your waist and someone placed their head on your shoulder. You turned your head to see your best friend, Steve Harrington, looking at Billy with a hateful glare.

“Is he bothering you, darling?” He asked, posing as if he were your overprotective boyfriend, a kind gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I was just about to tell our friend here that I sadly am not free this evening,” You played along, giving him a loving smile that doubled as a silent thank you.

“No fucking way,” Billy began, “King Steve finally got Little Miss Perfect to go on a date with him. I wonder what made our lovely princess here fold.”

“Well, Billy, you might not know this,” You said back, “but Steve and I have been dating for quite some time now.”

“That’s right,” Steve continued, “Today is our two-month anniversary, isn’t that right, babe?”

“Sure is, darling.”

Billy leaned against the lockers on the other side of the hallway, before saying, “Well, well, well, isn’t that just great? Just out of curiosity, what are you planning on doing for this special occasion?”

“Oh, nothing special, just watching a movie at the theatre and whatnot,” Steve said, before walking away and gently pulling you with him, not looking back until you turned around the corner.

After doing so, he let go and looked you in the eyes with a big smile. As if it were contagious, you felt a smile creep up as well, and you hugged the boy as a sign of gratitude.

“Thank you, Steve. I don’t think Billy will bother me for some time now,” You said, smiling up at him.

“Well, if you’re ever in dying need of a fake boyfriend,” Steve began teasingly, “you know where to find me.”

“Same goes for you, of course, if you ever get tired of constantly being asked out by beautiful, brainless girls.” You turned on your heels and walked off.

“I’ll hold you onto that offer.” Steve called after you before he walked away towards the exit of the building. But all of a sudden, he was cornered by Billy, who didn’t look pleased about the fact that his next conquest was already taken by another guy. 

“What a pleasure seeing you again, Billy,” Steve said in that sarcastic tone people knew all too well.

“I don’t believe for a second that you are dating, she’s far too precious for you,” Billy responded, staring him up and down.

“Pretty sure that’s not up you to decide," Steve deadpanned, "But anyway, what do you want?”

“I don’t like being lied to, Harrington. But if you two are serious about this, you won’t mind if Heather and I join you two, now do you?”

Steve thought for a moment. If he said that he did in fact mind, his cover, and more importantly, yours, would be blown.

On the other hand, if he answered that it wouldn’t be a problem, he would have to spend a night at the movie theatre with Billy. Sure, you’d be there, but who knew what could happen.

He took a deep breath, and gritted through his teeth, “Sure, why not, it’ll be fun.”

Billy smirked as if he’d won the lottery and let go of Steve. “Great, see ya at the movies, Harrington.” And then he walked off, leaving Steve in the hallway.

Steve got home not late after that, where he called you up, trying to find the words to tell her that they weren’t rid of Billy just yet. You picked up after the third ring, sounding just as cheery as ever.

“Hi, Steve, what’s up?” You asked, but before he could answer, you added, “Before I forget, I wanted to thank you again, I can’t imagine what I would’ve said to Billy if you didn’t come to rescue me, although I reckon it wouldn’t be filled with praising words.”

Steve chuckled, picturing you going off on Billy, ending with both of them walking away with at least a bruised lip. 

“Yeah, about that, I ran into Billy on my way out, and… well, let’s just say we’re not completely done with him yet,” Steve said, running his hand through his curls as he leaned against the wall, his other hand still around the phone.

“There is something you’re not telling me, so spit it out before I tell Robin that you use Farah Fawcett's hairspray.”

“Alright, alright, there’s no need to be dramatic. Billy cornered me and said that if we were dating, we wouldn’t mind him and Heather joining us at the movies. I’m so sorry, but I had no choice but to say yes.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. He was right, it would’ve been suspicious if you didn’t go through with your plans, but that didn’t make the thought of having to sit through a two-hour movie with Billy any less unbearable.

“It’s okay, as much as I hate having to be in the same room as him, it is what it is," You sighed, "The least we can do is make it as pleasant as we can for both of us and try to forget about them as much as possible. We can manage that, right?”

“We’ll try our hardest,” Steve answered, a small smile creeping its way on his face. “I’ll pick you up at seven, alright?”

“Sounds perfect, until then.”

“Yeah, until then.”

There was a brief silence, both not knowing if there was something else to be said, so they hung up on each other, still not sure what they were getting themselves into this time.

Seven o'clock rolled around, and you came down the stairs in a blue button-up dress and black sneakers, a small clutch in hand. 

Your mother sat on the sofa and saw her daughter from the corner of her eyes, making her head turn. 

“Oh honey, you look lovely, what’s the occasion?” She asked, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while gracing her face. 

“Steve and I are going to the movies, nothing out of the ordinary,” You answered, shooting your mom a quick smile.

“Except that you’re all dressed up, and is that make-up?” Your mom crossed her arms, not believing that it was just another movie night.

“Can’t I just look nice?” You asked, and just as your mom wanted to comment, a car horn honked, making you bid your mom goodbye and walk out the door.

Steve stood outside, leaning against his car wearing a buttoned-down white shirt and dark grey slacks, his usually wild hair slicked back, one strand having a will of its own and curling in front of his forehead.

“Sorry, my mom kept asking all sorts of idiotic questions,” You said as you walked down the front lane. 

“No problem, I made sure to be here on time so we don’t need to hurry,” Steve reassured, a wide smile plastered over his face. “You look nice, by the way, it’s a good ‘two-month anniversary’ look.”

“Thank you," You said as you look him up and down. "You as well, good choice.”

Steve walked to the door of the passenger seat and opened it for you, jokingly bowing down and gesturing his hand for you to step into the vehicle. You shook your head, silently laughing at the gesture. Steve climbed into the car as well before driving towards the theatre.

Although you both dreaded seeing Billy again, having to keep up the facade of you being a couple was easier than you'd expected. Somehow, it was just the same as being best friends, only with longing stares, and even those turned out to have a familiar touch to them.

Sure, having Billy practically breathing down your neck wasn’t what either of you enjoyed, but the movie turned out pretty great, and with the Steve next to you, the burden of being in the same room as Billy was less heavy on your shoulders.

However, that moment of bliss and contentment was blown away as soon as the movie ended, and Billy started talking to the two of you again. 

“Well, was the movie worth it for your two-month anniversary?” Billy faked his enthusiasm, still very much not convinced that you were telling the truth.

“Oh, absolutely, it was wonderful. Wasn’t it, honey?” You answered, trying to pull off your most genuine smile while standing so close to Steve you could be glued together.

“It truly was. Happy two-month anniversary, sweetheart,” Steve added.

But upon seeing the look of scepticism on Billy’s face, a sudden thought emerged in his brain. Before either of you could comprehend what was happening, Steve planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

A seemingly harmless action, one that wouldn’t be an issue for someone who was on a date with the person they had spent the last two months infatuated by, but to the two of you, who hadn’t been anything but friends for the majority of their lives, this single act brought forth a plethora of emotions and feelings, ones of which they weren’t sure if they should be acknowledged or even be there to begin with.

Against your best efforts, blood rushed into your cheeks, colouring them a bright scarlet. You tried to play it off as a part of your scheme, but there was a fine line between make belief and developing true affection, and the longer youthought about it, the more that line turned into a blur.

Whatever it was, it threw off Billy for a hot second. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t as stupid as some would make him out to be. He knew that it was just a ruse to get him to stop asking you out and going to the movies with them was just a way of getting under your skin.

Still, seeing your reaction to Steve's kiss, albeit not lasting longer than a moment or two, was something different than what he had seen before between the two of you. But he soon returned to his senses again and to his usual self.

“Well, it’s getting late. How about we go home, Heather?” He asked his date, who was more than willing to oblige. “I guess this is where we say goodbye. Have a fun anniversary, but not too much fun.” He winked before walking off with Heather on his arm, and when he was out of earshot, both of you let out a deep breath.

“That was probably one of the worst yet most enjoyable dates I’ve ever been on,” Steve admitted, shaking his head in disbelief at the irony.

“Too bad it wasn’t a real date then, huh?” You said rather absent-mindedly, not realising the words that came out before they were already spoken.

Once you did, you didn’t know if they were true. Had it been a date, or was it all a ruse to get Billy off your back? And when Steve had kissed you, albeit such a simple gesture, you had blushed like a school girl whose crush just talked to her; it had almost driven you over the edge, had you not controlled yourself.

Steve rested his hand on the nape of his neck and tilted his head a bit to the left, before saying, “Yeah, you’re right, that would’ve been one hell of a date if it were real… anyway, I should probably drive you home, it’s already dark outside.”

The car ride was silent until Steve saw an all too familiar car in his rearview mirror. 

“Shit, Billy’s following us,” He said, not louder than a whisper as if he was afraid that Billy could hear that you'd seen him. 

“Okay, it’s not a big deal, just drop me off at my house and all is well,” You suggested, not sure why Steve made it out to be worse than it was.

“And let him know we aren’t as serious as we claimed to be? No, that’s not going to happen, he won’t win.” There was a strange air about him, one you hadn't seen much of before.

“Steve, I don’t know what you’re on about, what on Earth will he gain if you just drop me off at home?”

“The satisfaction that we lied, the knowledge that if he were to push just long enough, he’ll convince you to go on a date with him," There was a hint of something you couldn't entirely place. It couldn't be jealousy, right? "Don’t you see, he wants this solely because he can’t have the one thing I pride myself on?”

“And what might that be?” You asked, not sure what he was talking about.

“A relationship, of any kind, with you. He’s jealous, that you’ll be around me despite my shortcomings, but won’t do the same for him.”

You sighed, and responded, “Somehow, I don’t know how or why, but that, sort of, makes sense. Well then, what do you propose?”

“Just trust me, okay?” He looked into your eyes, a silent plead to just follow along, until you said: “Look at the road, you idiot. And yes, of course, I’ll trust you, unless you have a really stupid plan.”

“Well, it’s something, I can tell you that.”

You pulled up at Steve’s house, still being tailed by Billy, who was about 500 metres behind them to come off as casual. You got out of the car and into the house, where you flopped down onto the sofa.

Through the curtains, you could see the headlights of Billy’s car. But instead of just passing by, the lights went off, suggesting the car had stopped. You and Steve exchanged a look of confusion, although both of you knew why he hadn’t just driven by the house as if it were a mere coincidence.

“Well, that's gonna be a problem,” You commented, crossing your arms. “So what do we do now? I don’t think he’s going away any time soon, it’s not like he has a life to return to.”

Just as you were about to propose you’d call off the whole plan and just confront Billy -surely you could handle him- Steve jumped up and dragged you onto your feet.

“That’s it, of course!” He exclaimed, holding both of your hands as new smile scattered across his lips.

“What is it?” You asked, genuinely confused as to what Steve was talking about.

“Billy might not have a life, but we do, so why would we care about him when we can just go about our merry way and do whatever we want?” Steve explained, his eyes lighting up with every word.

“And with that showing him that he is the least of our concerns,” You continued, starting to get a sense of his idea. “You know, you can be really smart. Sometimes, that is.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, things just sometimes fall right into place up there,” He responded, faintly pointing to his head.

You made your way upstairs, towards Steve’s bedroom, where he opened the window and climbed through it to land on the garage's roof.

It was a sort of tradition you had set in stone over the years, where whenever the situation seemed grim, you'd sit on the roof, whether that was on top of Steve’s garage or your bike shed, and simply look up to gaze at the stars.

No matter the circumstances, you had always found some peace and serenity in the stars gracing the midnight skies, looking down on the world lightyears away. Over the last couple of years, when hell seemed to break loose more than ever, it became their metaphorical fortress of solitude, where there were no troubles or problems, but just the cold air on their faces as they would sit in the dim light of the moon.

And so you wound up on the roof once again, with your backs against the cold brick wall as you admired the stars and felt your worries slip away into a moment of time.

You averted your eyes from the sky and looked at Steve, who must’ve read your mind as he had already done the same, softly smiling at your.

“You know, you were right,” You started, “Who cares about what Billy thinks we are; we are the ones who decide what is and what isn’t true when it comes to our lives.”

“Yeah, but we also shouldn’t be living in a lie,” Steve mumbled, shifting his gaze to his hands.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You say that it is up to us to decide what is real and with isn’t, but at the same time we’re trying to convince a douchebag that we are something everyone knows we’re not.” Steve slowly looked up, with a glimmer of a feeling previously unknown to you. “Sounds a bit hypocritical, if you ask me.”

“Are you insinuating that we’d rather lie than confront our true intentions?” You remarked, looking Steve in the eyes, “Because if that’s the case, I’ll be perfectly honest with you. The truth is, I found it surprisingly easy to pose as your girlfriend, to act as if I was in love with you. And that scared me, a lot.”

Steve’s eyes dilated slightly upon hearing those words, but you weren't done talking yet.

“You’re my best friend, and even though I’d support you without hesitation, I always told myself that I would never end up catching myself falling for you. I would not be one of those girls you’d date for a short time and then be tossed aside." You let your head hang for a moment and sigh. "What I’m trying to say is, is that I was so occupied trying not to fall that I didn’t realise that I had already hit the ground.”

At this point, Steve’s eyes were as big as saucers and his mouth was slightly agape, making you regret opening up him. You had already stood up to walk over to the open window when a hand held onto yours, entangling their fingers.

It all happened too fast to wrap his mind around. From the second you had opened up to where Steve quite forcibly turned you around to look into your eyes, staring into them so intensely, as if not even the end of the world would be able to separate you.

The rest of the world turned into a blur, a haze surrounding you, as if a simple action enforced a shield, preventing any troubles from the outside from breaking you apart.

Eventually, after what felt like a blissful eternity but in reality, couldn’t have been longer than thirty seconds, your lips parted, leaving you standing on the roof, being able to feel each other’s breath with how close you stood together, staring into each other’s eyes with your mouths agape, trying to fathom the reality of what had just happened.

Incoherent thoughts were running through your heads, not able to process a single thing other than knowing that there was undoubtedly no way back from this. And how terrifying that might sound, neither of you could care less.

Steve was the first one to speak up, although it was more like a whisper. “I’m not sure if that was the right thing to do, but god, it felt too right to be wrong,” He breathed, causing you to agree with a soft affirming hum and rest your head on his chest, feeling his heart beating as if it were about to explode.

After standing like that for at least a few minutes, you moved back inside, never taking your eyes off each other. As soon as you hit the bedroom floor, your lips found their way back to the other.

Whereas the first kiss was a tender one, the one that followed held enough power to light up an entire city. You were soon pressed up against the wall, your hands traveling from Steve’s shoulders towards his hair, threading your fingers through his curls, melting into the kiss.

His hands roamed your body, as he fought against his lustful impulses. Had it been any other girl, he admitted that he wouldn’t have given it a second thought and let his intentions take over, but you were different; you were better, far beyond anyone else and deserving of nothing less than utter perfection. For that reason, he reluctantly pulled away, leaving a ghost of your lips on his.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” He muttered, trying to catch his breath as he still stood mere inches away from you. He looked up at you and saw the baffled look on your face, making him regret his poor choice of words. “No, that wasn’t- that wasn’t what I meant… Look, I’m just gonna… start over, you know… rewind.” Steve took a deep breath. “What I meant to say, was that I want to do this the proper way. So that means you walking down the stairs in a cute dress, and me picking you up at seven to take you on a date… a real one, this time.” 

You smiled- no, laughed, you flat out chuckled. When Steve looked confused, you told him, “Sorry, I just realised something hilarious.”

“What? Please, enlighten me,” He questioned with a soft smile.

“This entire time we’ve been trying to convince people that we were together.” Steve still looked at her with questioning eyes. “Guess we're not playing make belief anymore, are we?”

© This work belongs to @oneawkwardwriter, please do not copy this work to any other site or claim it as your own. Reblogs are allowed and appreciated!

Taglist: @unofficialxmarvelfreak (to join the taglist, simply leave a comment or message me!)

[travelingtwentysomething]

✨Are you new here?✨

✨🌚)))))(✨Hailey on AO3✨)(((((🌝✨

🪩 Let's Be Honest, If You Could Hop Dimensions, You'd Save Eddie Munson Too (AO3 // REBLOG // My Art: Eddie in Disguise/Comparison) - A Steddie+Original NonBinary Time/Dimension Traveler Character Fix-It Comedy/Adventure

🌚 Devotion Tastes So Sweet On Your Lips (AO3 // REBLOG) - A Spooky Steddie Horror One-Shot (Maybe Series...) Steve Prays To The Old Gods And Eddie The Banished Answers

🕸️ A Sticky Situation (AO3 // REBLOG) - A Harringroveson x Spideypoolverine Crossover Comedy One-Shot +Inspo Post for A Sticky Situation

—+++—Some Bonus Tumblr Only Ficlets—+++—

+Steve Throws Eddie His Yellow Sweater, Eddie Throws Steve His Vest. It's a Whole Thing (It's Canon. Gone a bit Viral, this one🤘) (Further Evidence: Steve Puts on The Vest and Eddie Checks Out His Ass, Also Canon. + Bonus Canon: Every Time Eddie Puts On His Steve Smile)

+Eddie Realizes Steve Is More Than A Babysitter (w/ Inspo Post Steve Slays Demo-Bats, Eddie Reacts, this one has Gotten Popular, but I mainly attribute that to Steve's Titties 🤘)

+Stephanus Concubinus, Emperor Geta's Vita (a Steddie x Gladiator II au blurb inspired by kingsandsaints ' gorgeous painting of Joe Keery wearing laurels and a white sheet🕊️)

+Rockstar!Eddie, Meets Server Duo Stobin, is an Asshole and Gets His Just De'Soup- Later Eddie Comes Back to Apologize and Gets Steve's Number- Then, A Misunderstanding and a Proposal (An Add-On Ficlet started by two very talented writers sabbathbloddysabbeth and estrellami-1🤘)

+Rockstar!Eddie in a Case of Mistaken Identity Gets Dragged to Dustin's 21st "Rockstar Hotel After Party" Themed Birthday by an Oblivious Steve +Bonus Robin Has Something To Say About That (An Add-On Ficlet inspired by Whathehonestfuk's post🤘)

+Rogueddie Famous!Steddie, Eddie Reads Tumblr RPF of Steve, Steve Gives a Rec (Rogueddie Wrote A Blurb, I Wrote A Blurb, an Add-On Ficlet)

+S4 Cut Scene: Steve Pines For Eddie, Dustin is Excited For Two Dad's, or Whatever, He's Not Picky (Eddie Witnesses This Interaction From Afar, Wonders Fondly, an Add-On Ficlet)

+Steve is afraid to scare Eddie away by treating him 'like a girl,' Eddie is frustrated, thinking Steve just can't bring himself to cuddle him because he's a guy. (Until Eddie opens Steve's closet and a mountain of dead and drying bouquets and boxes fall all around him. An Add-On Ficlet) +The Add On Where They Go From Idiots to Lovers

+Steddie!Little Mermaid AU Blurb-let (It started with a whisper- *Steve Herrington* and ended when Prince Eddie kissed he- er, uh, no wait- that's actually Henry the Sea Witch with Prince Steve's stolen voice... Violence and Magic and A Happily Ever After, Oh My!)

+Eddie Doesn't Give A Fuck About Sleep Paralysis Demon Steve (a bit personal, turned into a Steddie prompt)

+Eddie, Post Apocalypse, Joins The Military Supernatural Special Forces, Until He Receives a Call from an Old Friend in Hawkins (a Steddie Prompt Blurb)

📜A Tale in Gifs🍿

—++++—Stories Told in a Montage of Gifs—++++—

+Steve Definitely Doesn't Have A Type: A Steddie Tale in Gifs (+Because I Can't Leave Well Enough Alone, Emotional Damage) (Learned how to make gifs for this post lol took me hours give it some love, my first sort of popular post🤘)

+Steve: All My Homies Love Boobs And Hate The Government / Robin Looks At Eddie: *Gay Silence* / Steve: Right?! (Robin Looks At Eddie: *Cringes* / Steve: *Bi Panic Sets In*)

+Eddie Munson the Lunchtime Menace... He Does All His Best Menacing at Tables: A Tale in Gifs (A Montage of Eddie Being Menacingly Innocent 😇👀)

+Steve: If He Fuck Me Good I'll Take His Ass To Red Lobster / Steddie Version / Metal Sandwich Version (🍨⛵🦞)

+The First Time Little Eddie Munson With The Buzzed Hair Gets Called A F*reak, He Is Too Stunned To Speak (Literally, just a sentence ✨with gifs✨ but now I need 100k words, on my desk by Monday morning. Prompto.)

✨everything else you need to know under the cut✨

🪩My Original Posts🪩

#op

+My Singular Piece of Art (Eddie in Disguise/Comparison)

+Jack Whitehall Incorrect Quote/Shipping Gays is the Glue That Holds Fandom Together🤘

+Harry Styles Raps to Girls Just Wanna Have Fun Video (if you've never seen this, you're not fully realizing your potential)

+Joe Quinn is Dating Doja Cat? (It only took me a couple minutes to make this gif, skill issue defeated)

+Someone Asked Me "Favorite word?" And I Am A Comedian, So I Said- (you won't regret clicking on this one, here's your first clue that I am hilarious.)

+My Theory on Why Hollywood (And Men™) Thinks All Women Over 30 Are Witches (added to this already hilarious post about the Disney Movie Freaky Friday, your second clue that I am actually the funniest person you don't even know)

🪩Gems You Missed🪩

+ I just realized I caught the GHOST in my haunted house on video 🫥👀💀

+A Break-up Cake Commissioned By Me From The WM Bakery: Mario Kart - "Welcome Back To The Streets" (If We Are Friends, This Is The Kind Of Moves You Can Expect From Me)

+15 Minute Roast Beef and Potato Soup (I make up easy recipes sometimes, ask me about my rotisserie chicken enchiladas with cilantro lime sour cream sauce)

+My Halloween Tree and Blockbuster Wall (About 4,000 DVDs lit up by my Halloween Tree, it's a Spooky Vibe, ask me for a Movie Rec... When I die I'm fixin to haunt the Criterion Closet👻)

+🍯My Dog Honey Watches Scooby Doo / Honey Cuddles Then and Now / Honey Plays Then and Now 🍬 / Honey's Pug-pies: Scooby, Momo, Pickle, and Ponyo / Honey Helped Make Better Pugs 😂

+My 2010 1D Tumblr Origin Story (🤣The true story of how I ended up on Tumblr)

+My Ridiculous Laptop Sticker Collection (feat. Some Steddie Stickers from Raynecreates)

+I'm Allergic to Cats, But I Would Get A Blue Russian to Name Them Comrade, Nickname: Commie (Big Brain Name Game™, Give me some credit and reblog this post🐈‍⬛)

+My Epitaph (My Personal Philosophy, It's A Banger™)

+My High Thoughts About Pyramids (Higher Thoughts💭)

+My Review of the Movie A Real Pain with Jesse Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin (An Ode to Real Pain, My Stream of Sleep Deprived Consciousness Sounds Like Beat Poetry🥲)

👇Check the #Tags below to narrow down the fun👇

(I go a lil ham with the tags, trying to be thorough, so I'm a safe blog if you utilize tag blocking, search my blog for any of your own interests, you'll most likely strike gold 😂 give it a try if you're curious, or scroll on down and click on a tag, if it's not clickable use that tag in the search bar to search my blog)

I RECOMMEND:

#op - posts that I created or I contributed a significant comment to

#trauma dump and #dream journal - the drama, the tea, the weird dreams that are so ridiculous I had to tell someone, even if it is just shouting it into the void to hear the echo, basically over sharing

#personal - if you're trying to see more than just fandom- really get to know me 🥹 also #is it me, #tism, #tis me

#interest - anything that is of interest to me, stuff like #therapy, #linguistics, #anthropology, #sociology, #psychology, #archeology, #movies, #film theory, #politics, #house hunting, #location scouting basically anything that interests me outside pretty people and shows

#my recipes - I occasionally make up something easy peasy, you like cooking quick churched-up struggle meals?

#thoughts - my own comments/thoughts or posts that made me think, try #high thoughts, #higher thoughts

#comedy - anything that made me #lol

#writing - my own fics and posts I actually contributed commentary to or a lil blurb, or writing inspo and prompts I am interested in, as well as writing resources, tips, etc. #fic prompt

#steddie - probably my most common tag I love them but there's a plethora of tags #steddie art, #steddie fic, #steddie comic

#pretty - it's the boys and the girls and the #aesthetic stuff too

#boys - any of the pretty boys I like to reblog

#femme fatale - pretty girls, alternately #laissez faire

#smile - if you wanna smile, I heard they're contagious and this tag has some beautiful smiles 😁 and a few things guaranteed to bring joy

#spooky - It's #spooky season baby and #halloween is in my veins. We got #spooky art, #house hunting, #halloween decorations, and best of all #spooky steddie

🤌Like this post and I will definitely follow you (*except minors soz)👀

✨REBLOG✨ and we will be ✨MUTUALS✨

[emily-mooon]

Nancy Wheeler the shoujo manga protagonist you are what with your love triangle and everything about you my pookie <3

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 1: Deck the Halls (Festive Friday)

Something short and silly to start off with. I'm so excited for this event. Thank you sooo much to @steddieasitgoes for creating it 💖💖💖 I love writing Christmas stuff for ST and I have a few things planned for the Steddiemas calendar.

“Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-laaaaaa.”

Steve would cringe if he wasn’t carrying most of the weight of the Munson’s new Christmas tree in through the front door and trying to avoid scratching himself on either the branches or the metal frame of the fly screen.

Eddie is behind him, muttering the same tune over and over, just high enough for Steve to hear, but not loud enough to call attention to himself.

He’s been like this all day – too cheery and chipper as they decorate the trailer while Wayne is at work. Busying himself with not much more than his chiming, his tone all wobbly and hollow like a kid carolling.

It’s far too early in December as far as Steve is concerned. Hell, he doubts he will even decorate his own house this year.

What’s the point if he will be home alone?

And, as Eddie lets go of what part of the tree he was barely holding in the first place, Steve begins to regret offering his help entirely as he goes careening onto the couch.

“Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.”

“Eddie!” Steve splutters, rolling on his side and palming around on the edge of the couch for support.

“What?”

He looks up to find Eddie smiling and twirling the end of his maroon scarf.

“Could you have actually helped?” he snaps.

“You said you ‘got it’!” Eddie makes half-hearted air quotes and lowers his tone in what Steve can only assume is supposed to be a mockery of his own voice.

“Asshole!” he grumbles.

“Grinch!”

Eddie pokes his tongue out at him before offering a dimple-filled grin.

Steve glares, “Can you at least bring in the box of decorations?”

Eddie turns on his heel and skips back out the front door.

“Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and groans. Maybe he could just run out the front door, elbow Eddie out of the way of the car and speed off into the distance.

“Why am I here?” he mutters to himself.

He takes the opportunity to catch his breath and looks the tree over. Thankfully, it isn’t damaged - save for the odd fallen pine shoot.

Eddie soon hops back up the stairs, winter boots shaking the metal landing as he cradles the box of decorations they had gathered between Melvads, Goodwill and the dollar store.

“I love Christmas!” he beams as he sets the box on the coffee table to begin rummaging, “Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.”

Eddie hands over a bauble. It’s red and green, the stripes broken up with gold glitter. One that Steve had picked from Melvads’ Christmas aisle.

Their fingers brush as Steve takes the bauble and he looks up to find Eddie grinning from ear to ear.

That’s why he’s here, he thinks, smiling back.

[ghost-proofbaby]

I literally love your work and this 3k celebration is absolutely GENIUS so can I please get a filthy martini with Steve Harrington? Can it be enemies with benefits(also hate fucking? I blame you for this new trope obsession bc 24 hours GOT ME FERAL)?

nonnie i love you this is the such an incredible request i can only hope i did it justice oh my GOD

come party with me!

sweet like honey (steve harrington x fem! reader)

warnings: smut, p in v, mean steve sort of if you squint?, oral f receiving, talk of unprotected sex, cnc hickies? is that a thing? she says no and then he does it anyway?, arguing over using protection (steve says he'll convince her to not use it next time, but they use it this time!), not edited, minors dni

You hate him. You swear it to yourself, to your friends, to your own mother who sometimes points him out at sport events or at the local grocery store. You hate Steve Harrington. Simple as that. 

But maybe, just maybe, it isn't as simple as that. 

Because you hate him, yes - to your very core -  but you still always end up here. You still answer when he texts you in the middle of the night, you still meet him at your spot at the park that serves as a halfway point between your house and his, and you still end up in his lap in the backseat of the BMW his daddy bought for him. 

“This is the last time, Harrington,” you murmur through fervent kisses as you sit as comfortably as possible in his lap, “I mean it.”

He pulls back with that boyish grin that you absolutely despise, tightening his grip on your hips as his head tilts, “Of course, honey. Just like you said the last two times, right?” 

You don’t offer him an answer, instead plunging back in for a biting kiss. You imagine that if you take his bottom lip between your teeth hard enough, if you bite down with the right pressure, he’ll bleed. And the thought of tasting Steve Harrington’s blood across your tongue is more exciting than you care to admit. 

“Yes, but I really do mean it this time,” you insist against his mouth, your hangs tangling against the roots of his hair. Your goal is to mess it up, to rake through the product and all the time you know he spends in the mirror each morning, and ruin it. 

He only hums in response and urges you down onto his lap harder, the bulge confined in his jeans pressing into you more noticeably. 

“Hard already?” you tsk, rolling your hips harder against him, eliciting a load moan from his lips.

He’s just so easy. Maybe that’s why you keep coming back for more. 

“God, just shut up,” he gasps against you, moving his mouth along your jaw and neck. 

He starts to suck hard on your sweet spot, which in return makes you tug sharply on his hair. Hard enough to make him hiss in pain, “No fucking marks, how many times do I have to tell you?” 

“I know,” he says, clearly not knowing, as he continues to chuckle and trace his finger along the junction of your neck and shoulder, “But imagine just how pretty you’d look, all marked up by me.” 

“And imagine how pretty you’d look with your head between my thighs, not fucking talking,” you remark back. 

No marks. Because if he left a mark, then people might know. And you’d rather die than have anyone find out you had been fucking around with Steve Harrington the last two months. 

Steve suddenly maneuvers the two of you so that you’re laid out across the seat, fitting himself between your legs with clear practice. The two of you have been in this backseat more times than you can count, and have learned your way around the confinement of it all. 

He pushes up the flimsy sleep shorts you’d worn out, bunching them at the top of your thighs as far as they will go as he places kisses up your inner thigh, starting at your knee, “I know you said no marks, sweetie,” his tone is laced with condescending confidence, teeth nipping at the soft skin as he looks up at you, “But what about here, hm? Where no one can see them? Do we have a deal?” 

He’s going to get his way. He always knows he can get his way when he starts to soften you up like this, one hand gripping your knee and already guiding it over his shoulder as the other trails beneath the waistband of the shorts and draws circles on your hip. 

“If anyone can see them, Harrington, I’ll-”

“Kick my ass,” he finishes your sentence for you, already moving to nuzzle his nose into your thigh, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before, babe.” 

He sucks and nips immediately at your makeshift permission, his saliva glistening against the purple bursting to life on your skin in the shape of his lips. 

“Lay off the nicknames,” you sigh, throwing your head back as his moves to make a second mark, higher up and closer to where you ache for him, “Or I will go back home and leave you with blue balls.”

His chuckle vibrates against your skin, eyes flicking up towards you. It’s a shame he’s such an absolute dick, because he looks pretty from here. Hair messed up as you intended, pupils blown wide, lips nearly magnetic against you as if he can’t get enough.

“Oh, honey, you wouldn’t,” he taunts, finally sitting up, beginning to take off your shorts, “We both know you don’t mean it, do you? You can threaten me all you want, but you still come back every,” your shorts are off, and he pauses to lean down and bite at your hip now before continuing, “single,” he moves to the other hip, sucking hard, leaving a weaker shade of violet in his path, “time.” 

You don’t reply as you whine out, hips bucking up, encouraging him to get it over with. To put his mouth where you need it most. To stop with his incessant cooing and taunting and to just fuck you with his tongue. 

He gets the message fairly clearly through his thick skull. 

And you like him best like this, quiet as he slides your panties to the side, tongue on your clit and already sliding his fingers into you, hellbent on unraveling you. He’s learned your body best at this point, knowing when to crook his fingers as he adds a second one, when to alternate between wrapping his lips around your clit to suck and using only the tip of his tongue to trace invisible shapes lost on you. He’s quiet, he’s as messy as a boy like him is capable of getting, and he knows.

But he’s eager. You’d say it’s his downfall, but you truly reap the benefits when he brings you right to the edge only to pull back and begin to make quick work of his own pants. He’s still in his jeans and polo, his work vest discarded in the front seat, his belt quickly joining it. 

You have no time to make another smart ass remark. No opportunity to poke fun at the way he bumps his head against the roof of the car or the way he struggles with his zipper a second longer than he should. Because once he’s gotten his cock out of his briefs, thick and pink and already leaking from the tip for you, he makes quick work to be inside you. 

“Condom,” you gasp out as his tip circles your interest, making him pause for the first time the entire night.

His eyebrows furrow, “You’re on the pill, yeah? We didn’t use one last time.” 

“My mistake,” you grit out, fighting the urge to just let him sink into you, to feel him stretch you in a way you both know only he can, “I know you’re fucking other girls. Wrap it, or I’m out, Harrington.” 

A sudden break of softness. In an instant, his teasing halts and he pulls back, looking at you with a hand still wrapped around his base, “I’m not fucking other girls.”

“What?”

“I said,” he leans down, warm brown eyes staring into yours, “I’m not fucking other girls. Only you. Only has been you since this entire thing started.” 

If you were an idiot, you’d read more into his words. You’d read into the fact that the town’s womanizer, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, has taken himself off the market for you. You’d think about it the rest of the night, your entire way back home, fantasize about it as you closed your eyes and begged for sleep. 

But you’re not an idiot. So you laugh at him. 

“Bullshit,” you say, maintaining eye contact, daring him into some unspoken war between the two of you. 

You watch as his jaw locks, his eyes set in stone, before he suddenly is fumbling around the car floor and producing his wallet. He pulls a condom from where it had been nestled between an abhorrent amount of cash, and he’s hasty in ripping it open.

“Fine,” he mumbles as he rolls the latex over his cock, “Fine. You want me to wear a condom, sweet thing? I’ll wear a condom. But I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll be begging me to go raw next time.” 

Your stomach clenches, your core flutters. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and you’re already reconsidering your insistence.

“Consider it a challenge, Harrington.” 

When the stretch finally comes, you’re preening into him, back arching and legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He’s harsh now in his actions, hardly allotting time to adjust once he bottoms out before he pulls back and repeats the motion, slamming into you harder the second time. 

He finds his rhythm quickly; he knows what you like. He knows that you want it rough, that you want him to destroy you from the inside out. Your nails claw at him through the cotton of his shirt, and you consider the ramifications if you were to tear through the fabric, leave holes and make the shirt unrecognizable. 

Mommy and daddy would probably buy him a new one. 

Your fingers dig in deeper at the thought. 

“This good, yeah?” he asks, snapping his hips up into your hard enough to that your body shifts upwards, back burning from the rough tapestry of the seat and the top of your head banging into the car door, “You like it hard, don’t you, baby?” 

No words are formed, your mouth open as whines and moans alike tear from your throat, pulling him in closer. He dips his lips back down into your shoulder, placing messy kisses up to your throat. 

“You’re always such a good little slut for me, aren’t you? What would your mother think? What would your friends think?” he presses as a hand grips your bare thigh hard enough to leave marks, holding your leg even harder to his hips, “Going all cock drunk for Steve Harrington, the boy you hate.”

“Shut up,” you groan out, grabbing at his hair and pulling harshly, trying to lift his head from your throat. He doesn’t follow the pull of your hand. Instead, he bites down on the skin he was previously kissing innocently against.

He leaves a mark. You know he does. But all you're capable of is a pathetic whine as your pussy flutters around him, sucking him deeper into you. 

“Fucking knew it,” he mumbles against the skin before his tongue lathes over the spot that still stings, “Fucking knew you loved being marked up, baby. Tried to stop me all this time because you knew you loved it so much.” 

“Steve,” you beg as your head hits the door yet again from the force of another thrust.

He slows his movements, head lifting to take in your features. Your teary eyes, your heaving chest to match his own, “Fuck, too hard?”

You breathlessly laugh, shaking your head, pressing your heel into his lower back, “Harder. Please.” 

Those two words are all it takes. Something snaps inside of Steve right there, in his backseat, you a writhing mess beneath him as his jeans continue to slip down his thighs. Your pleads are his command; he offers the smallest of mercies by moving a palm to protect the top of your head before his thrusts turn animalistic. 

He’s pounding into you as if his life depends on it, as if your pussy is a warm and wet savior he had sought out for years. The surrounding windows begin to fog over as he presses his sweaty forehead to yours, swallowing each of your mewls in exchange for guttural moans of his own. Your pussy clenches down on him, hard, and it does nothing to slow his pace. 

“Fuck,” you call out, back arching further. His hand trails below you and settles into the curve of your lower back, pressing you up against him further as he continues. “Oh my God, don’t stop. Please, fuck- Don’t stop. Please, please.”

Steve laughs lowly at your babbling, “I’m not, sweetheart. I’m not. Let go.” 

Just like that, you feel the pleasure heat up your core, molten between your hips as you feel every inch of him continue to stretch your walls. His hips begin to stutter as you tighten around him, crying out as the coil tightens to it’s breaking point. It overflows from you, whimpers and cries alike as he kisses them away with clashing lips and teeth. The waves of euphoria are still consuming you and dragging you under when he suddenly stiffens, stilling deep inside of you and collapsing down on top of your chest, groaning the loudest of the night between pants, his hand still curled into the small of your back. 

You suddenly wish you could feel his heat filling you. He was right - next time, there will be no condoms. You want to feel him, need to feel all of him. 

You both are quiet as you catch your breaths, neither saying a word as you come down from your highs. In a moment of innocent serenity, accidental peace amongst enemies, he presses his cheek against your sternum through your own shirt. You can feel his heart hammering in his chest against your torso. 

But the peace must end. Because you’re you, and Steve’s Steve, and the two of you can only fit together so effortlessly for so long.  He finally lifts his head, the devilish boyish grin returning, as he asks, “So, same time tomorrow, honey?”

[aamputation]

𝟙𝕤𝕥   ⏮〘 𝟙𝟝 〙⏭  

The warmth of sunbeams across his face makes his nose itch, and when he wrinkles it in an attempt to sate the sensation, he finds himself waking.

Blinking slowly into the early morning haze, Eddie gradually reorients to the liminal space he finds himself drifting in, half-asleep. He hums, pressing closer to the warmth he’s wrapped around–closer to the salt-sweat-musk he can practically taste on the back of his tongue, heavy with viscous honey sweetness and the smoky spark of peppercorns. His arms flex and he pulls the form in his grasp tighter to him, burying his face in the first place he can find where the source of that scent is strongest. He inhales, mouth watering at the delicious aroma filling his senses. He can feel his canines ache in his gums, the smaller, inhumanly angular incisors next to them throbbing in tandem. He wants to wrap his mouth around the form in his arms, break the surface and drag his tongue over what bubbles up from the rupture. He parts his lips, the tips of his teeth pressing down so slightly as the temptation to taste grows too great–his tongue darts out and licks a wet stripe over the salty soft skin between his jaws and—

—immediately finds himself fully awake.

It’s technically been nearly thirty-six hours since he’s actually consumed any blood–that’s probably the longest he’s gone without it, ever since Steve started making certain he got his daily dosage after he and Dustin discovered the necessity weeks ago–and that lack of consumption may actually become a problem, especially considering how delicious Steve currently smells coupled with the knowledge of how good Eddie knows he tastes. Steve is temptation incarnate where he’s slumbering away in the cradle of Eddie’s arms, blissfully unaware of how deeply he’s testing the older man’s willpower. Eddie knows logically that there’s nothing he can do to manage that temptation other than simply putting some distance in between them, no matter how little he actually wants to do that. Reluctantly, he slowly begins to disentangle himself, careful so as not to wake Steve as he rests.

He wants to court Steve properly, and in order to do so, he has to have some semblance of respect for the other man. He can’t just be- be constantly horny for the guy, even though he’s… well, he is horny for the guy. Like, fuck, Steve’s objectively hot, okay? The female population of Hawkins agrees with him, anyway, so anyone else can just fuck off and not bully him about that, mmkay? Shifting carefully on the mattress, Eddie inches slowly towards the edge of the bed as he ponders how to perhaps translate some of the courting instincts that definitely lean more animal than human into something… appropriate for the bipedal humanoid shape he’s currently in.

(With the full integration between himself and Kas, he’s got complete access to all the memories of the time as his bestial self–as Kas–which has been… enlightening, to say the least. He’s actually pretty keen on figuring out his weird new powers as soon as possible, because well. There’s something deeply appealing in the idea of Steve and him together while he’s in his more monstrous form… and all the inhibitions it seems to lower in Steve; the affection he’s always brimming with is even more pronounced when Eddie is more animal than human–at least in appearance, he’ll be keeping his wits about him, thank you very much, otherwise he gets the feeling that Steve would put the kibosh on the whole thing and that defeats the entire purpose!)

: ̗̀➛ read the full chapter on AO3

shout out to adornedwithlight for the line divider + reblog banner

[lovings4turn]

𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 — 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐄

no matter how you're spending valentines day , everyone could do with an extra dose of romance ! hopefully one of these mini-fics will satisfy your cravings for some extra sweetness and fluff ! — lots of love from your valentine, becca x

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 . . .

01 . KISS HER YOU FOOL — GEORGE RUSSELL

02 . KISS ME — LANDO NORRIS

03 . YOU ARE IN LOVE — LOGAN SARGEANT + OSCAR PIASTRI

04 . TOUCH TANK — REMUS LUPIN

05 . DAZED AND CONFUSED — CHARLES LECLERC

06 . STILL INTO YOU — STEVE HARRINGTON

07 . A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE — JESS MARIANO

08 . I THINK HE KNOWS — LUKE HUGHES

09 . FALLINGFORYOU — JAMES POTTER

10 . LOVERS ROCK — OSCAR PIASTRI

[pretty-pup-stevie]

Even If - Steve Harrington x ace!Reader

A/N: no context. Only soft angst with comfort. Reader is gender neutral and asexual

CW: angst, the kids being slight assholes on accident, Robin being a background hero, Reader is ace with v slight aro vibes, set during a new year’s party, kissing, teasing, implied future polyamory between Eddie and Steve and Reader, soft!Steve

719 words

You sit in the back of Eddie’s van with your legs tucked to your chest. It smells like weed and sweat and smoke. But it’s quiet and dark and you know the kids won’t bother you here.

The van door opens and someone enters. You don’t look up. Footsteps approach and someone settles next to you.

“Hey.”

You flinch. It’s Steve.

Slowly, you lift your head. Not looking at him, but enough so you can see him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s fiddling with the hole in his jeans again, picking at the frayed edges. You feel a lot like the hole, being picked at by the universe.

“The kids say they’re sorry.” You can see him turn his head a little to look at you. “They took it too far.”

You twist your fingers together tight enough that it hurts. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” He reaches out and gently tugs your hands apart. Not holding your hand, but tracing your fingers all the same. “Robin chewed them out. Said it was your life, not theirs and that they had no business prying like that.”

You don’t say anything for a long moment, but you’re quietly touched. Robin hadn’t ever particularly seemed to like you, but maybe you’d been wrong.

Eventually, though, you mumble, “I just… don’t. Have sex, I mean. It’s just… not me.”

Steve’s quiet, but you can tell he’s listening.

“I haven’t ever even kissed anyone. I’ve wanted to. But everyone always wants more than that, and I just…”

His hand squeezes yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a really long silence. Then, softly, “So when you said you wanted to kiss me earlier…?”

You make a face, then sigh. “Just kiss. You’re really cute, but it’s just not in me to see you… like that.”

He nods and continues playing with your fingers. “I get it.”

Somehow, you think he actually means it.

You finally glance at him. He seems thoughtful, brown eyes fixed on a spot across from you. He really is so cute.

“You wanna try our new year’s kiss again?”

You blink and fully face him. “What?”

He quirks an eyebrow, a slight smirk to his lips. “It was pretty awkward with everyone watching. Just a kiss, nothing more.”

You hesitate. There’s so much that could go wrong. But something… something tells you it’s different this time.

So you nod. Slowly.

Steve nods back and reaches out to cup your cheek. Rubbing a thumb against your skin for a moment before gently leaning in. You close your eyes. His lips press to yours.

There are no sparks. No fireworks. No heart stops or swooning. His lips are soft and slightly wet. They taste like the feeling of warmth and very faintly of chapstick.

He doesn’t part his lips or lick at your mouth or anything. It’s just a press of lips and then nothing. And it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever experienced.

You open your eyes and he smiles at you. Gives you that perfectly charming grin of his. “Much better.”

It pulls a grin of your own to your lips and you lean back, gently pushing at his shoulder. “Whatever. Bet it’s nothing compared to your kiss with Eddie.”

Steve flushes and laughs. He runs a hand through his hair, looking a little embarrassed and very pleased. “That’s different. He’s all bite and no bark, you know?”

You smile. “Yeah. It’s cute though. You two look good together.”

He falls quiet, glancing at you. Then, softly, “Bet I look better with you there too.”

You blink. Tilt your head a little. It takes you a long moment to process his words. But then your cheeks warm. “You sure you want me there?”

Steve nods and gently nudges you. “He wants you there too.”

You look down at your lap. “Even if…”

“Yeah.” His voice is steady, not a hint of doubt. “Even if.”

A smile creeps across your lips. “Alright.”

He grins again. “Alright. You ready to go back?”

You nod and he gets up. You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. He doesn’t let go, sliding his hand around yours as he leads you out of the van.

It feels like a promise, and you think you’ve finally found someone willing to keep it.

[steddie-island]

Royal jerk

@strangerthingswritersguild kinktober day 13: Toys Rating: E | WC: 1,194 | tags: unestablished, camboy Steve Harrington, tentacle dildo

For full fic and list of tags see ao3!

Eddie's laptop hummed to life as he settled into bed. Sometimes he was still amazed the damn thing still worked, as beat up as it was, but it was nights like tonight when he was most grateful that it did.

He looked down at his watch, checked the clock in the corner of the screen. If everything worked the way he wanted it to, he would be logging on right as the show started.

It took a minute to get logged in, another minute for him to find the right room, then another to get in with how busy it was.

His timing had been perfect. There he was, centered in the screen.

RoyallyWicked

Royal was on his bed, kneeling behind the mount that his toys would attach to later. Something with a dark, pulsating bass played lowly in the background.

Eddie was almost certain he would give up his left nut for a chance to get with this guy. He was so pretty, soft and tan, but there was a strength in his body, in the width of his shoulders and the sure way he moved. He'd never shown his full face before, but when he got really into it there was a glimpse of his jaw, of his mouth open in pleasure. Eddie loved those moments, wanted to commit those to memory for when he wanted to revisit this later.

[silkholland]

Steve Harrington Dividers Pt. 4

all dividers made by me. please like and reblog if you use. credit isn’t necessary but always appreciated.

[dillwonder]

This is 100% not an anger bait post or even a post where I will argue or let arguments happen.

Idk why there are Steddie shippers that are so mad when you guys have more art, writing and popularity than we (hellcheer) shippers do. Though I don’t ship it, it’s definitely cute and there’s no reason for me to tell you NOT to ship it. I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of days and how even though there isn’t really that big of a ship fight anymore, there is still some tiffs that happen here and there from what I have seen. I understand there is limited LGBTQA+ representation, at the same time we don’t need to tear people down for shipping a straight ship and trying to eradicate a straight ship. Not always, but more often I feel like I see Steddie shippers accusing Hellcheer shippers of awful things, invalidating their ship and trying to stomp evidence over people. I have seen Hellcheer shippers participate in this as well, but I do feel like there is a responsibility within the stranger things community to either not engage with content you just don’t like and not accuse people of outlandish shit, say ‘my ship is better’ and just be awful.

Plenty of people in the queer community ship hellcheer and respect Steddie and understand why it would be an important ship, but from what I’ve seen of us, we are just enjoying two fictional characters in a fictional world, fictionally dating because it gives us just a little joy in this fucked up world.

Also there is enough of Eddie to go around, try being like one of those Eddie/steve/chrissy shippers and take a deep breathe.