#steve is a dingus
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hexiewrites · 2 years ago
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if i was brave (i'd climb up to you on the mountain)
Eddie Munson just wants to go for a walk with his daughter. That shouldn't be too much to ask. Unfortunately, Eddie Munson is a klutz. Luckily, park ranger Steve Harrington is nearby to help out.
teen, 4400 words. ft: dilf eddie munson, park ranger steve harrington, and just an absurd amount of awkward flirting.
read it now on ao3!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @maxineholtzmann!!!! this one's all for you.
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sp0o0kylights · 6 months ago
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We often see Robin focused on her own love life (or lack thereof) while Steve collects more You Suck tallies on the board, but imagine Steve does find a girl he dates that he hits it off with?
He aces dates 1 through 5 and suddenly he's around a little less, his new relationship looking serious, and Robin isn't jealous but--
She is worried.
That's her best friend. Her platonic soulmate!
She doesn't think Steve would ever stop being those things--Her dingus has a soft squishy heart under all that hair.
Problem is, Robin's seen this play out before.
Had band friends drift away because someone's dating someone else and suddenly they're all wrapped up in each other's lives, friends pushed to the wayside.
She doesn't say anything though. Knows how lonely Steve is. How much he wants (and deserves) a relationship.
Then the worst possible fucking thing happens: Steve's new girl telling him she isn't comfortable with Robin.
That she doesn't believe girls and guys can be "just friends" and would Steve please stop seeing Robin so much? Please?
Her friends even saw him taking Robin out to lunch yesterday and thought he was cheating!
Of course she knows Steve isn't cheating. He'll prove it to her, right? By letting Robin know they can only be coworkers? And their friendship?
Robin hears all this at her and Steve's next shared work shift, and she feels the floor of her world give out beneath her.
Fear and hurt crawling up her throat because of course Steve can't tell whatever her name is why Robin will never date him.
Of course this chick clearly isn't taking Steve's regular excuses as an answer, and--oh God, what if Robin is losing him, isn't she?
Then Steve's done talking, clearly expecting Robin to say something, and oops she may have been panicking and not listening there at the end but she manages a very choked up;
"I mean if you think shes like, the one..." because what is she supposed to say!?
And Steve, the only person Robin's met who craves a relationship as much as she does if not more, frowns at her with a bitchy little twist to his face and says: "What part of "so I told her that was ridiculous and we broke up" didn't you hear?"
Robin gasps a breath, the world stable once again. She doesn't know when she started crying but she does register Steve's panic when he clocks it, panicking and pulling her into a hug.
"Oh my God did you think I'd agree with her!?" He says and he sounds a little hurt about it, she'll have to fix that, but presently all Robin can do is cling to her best friend and sink deep into the knowledge that he really won't leave her.
Even for the things he wants in life the most.
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morganbritton132 · 15 days ago
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Steve: Today, one of my students told me that she likes watching your videos because you have ‘wet cat’ energy
Eddie: …what does that mean?
Steve: I have no idea. I think she’s saying you look homeless
Eddie: Do I look homeless?!
Steve, considering: Not really?
Eddie: Thank you
Eddie:
Eddie: Your students are fucking mean
Steve: I know
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rambamthxman · 10 months ago
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Eddie.
You're thinking out loud, Eddie.
Eddie.
Eddie please💀
-Robin
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wynnyfryd · 2 years ago
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saw this tweet and i just:
steve: okay no more muppet voices while you’re inside me
eddie (doing a miss piggy voice mid thrust): kissy kissy
steve: what did i just say??!
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missmariannecherie · 2 months ago
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September’s Stobin Extravaganza - day 18 - Can I have a hug?!🫂
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
@sept-stobin-extravaganza
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werepuppy-steve · 2 months ago
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woke up thinking about how we don't know if steve even lives at his house on loch nora anymore. what if part of his dad cutting him off was also kicking him out? he's got enough money from the government saves up from the previous two years, he could leave hawkins in the dust and get a place in indianapolis.
but he doesn't. two years of government hush money also means there's a chance of it coming back. so he stays. he temporarily moves in with dustin and claudia before dustin leaves for camp. they set up the spare bedroom for him and claudia helps him look in the paper for job listings. there's a flyer for starcourt in the inserts with "now hiring!" in bold yellow letters. he figures it wouldn't hurt.
he starts at scoops and meets robin, gets tortured a little. but it's fine because the kids are safe and his pockets end up being a little heavier this time around. an "apology" of sorts for being a casualty of the cold war, they said.
when his face is all healed and he can see out of his left eye again, claudia (who i hc to be in real estate) helps him look for properties. by the middle of october, steve is signing the papers for a mortgage on a little two bedroom (bc of course dustin is going to have a room there) tudor on the outskirts of hawkins. he doesn't have much in the means of decorating, but with the help of claudia, dustin, robin, and the rest of the party (including karen wheeler, which surprises steve a little), steve ends up with a cosy little home filled with knick knacks and furniture that were either thrifted or donated. absolutely none of it matches, but for the first time in what feels like his entire life, steve has something that is his.
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hawkinsbnbg · 5 months ago
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Eddie: Your argument is invalid.
Steve: Babe, back me up.
Robin: So here's my input in Steve's point–
Eddie: Wait, that's not how it works–
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artiststarme · 1 year ago
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Steve couldn’t understand why the Party wanted him around. He didn’t see why anyone would want to hang around some deadbeat that peaked in high school, he certainly wouldn’t. Case in point, all of his friends were going somewhere. Dustin was a genius, Robin was brilliant, and Eddie was going to be a world famous rockstar like Freddy Mercury was. Max was healing nicely and she would be something important, Lucas was great with people so he’d have a bright future, and Mike was… passionate. El and Will were fabulous so he was sure they would amount to everything.
Why would any of them drag themselves down with Steve? Robin could choose so many other soulmates better than Steve. He couldn’t relate to being a “band geek” in high school or working full time to save money for college, he couldn’t even get into college. In his mind, anyone could be a better friend to her than he could.
And why was Eddie dating him? Beautiful, smart, strategic, funny Eddie. He could have anyone he wanted and yet he settled for Steve. No matter how many times Eddie told him he loved him and couldn’t imagine life without him, Steve couldn’t wrap his head around it. What was so special about himself that all of these people stuck around?
Nothing had changed over the years, really. He was still the neglected boy sitting on the bleachers after baseball practice, waiting for his parents to come pick him up. Even back when he was little, his parents knew he was nothing special. They’d taken the first flight out of Hawkins and had hardly looked back since.
Hell, even Steve’s friends in high school figured it out. Tommy and Carol hadn’t said a word to encourage him to stay, they sent him away with silent glares and indifferent shrugs as if being a friend to Steve was more of an effort than it was worth.
And Nancy, his first heartbreak. She dropped him like everyone else always had. As soon as another boy showed her kindness and affection, she dropped Steve like a hot potato and broke his heart on the way out the door.
Steve knew it was only a matter of time before the Party grew tired of him. Every outing, Steve watched them like it would be the last time. Because just like everyone else, they would all leave and move onto better things. And Steve would be left broken with no one to pick up the pieces.
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shushmal · 6 months ago
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steve wearing a shirt that says dingus
eddie wearing a shirt that says doofus
on the back 'if lost, return to robin'
robin's shirt says 'i'm robin WHERE IS MY DINGUS AND DOOFUS???'
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paceprompting · 2 months ago
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stars in his eyes✨
week 3 (and a little late, whoops) for @steddiesmuttyseptember. And a continuation in the saga of why can't I write just porn, this is 6K, wtf.
Rough | lingerie | aftercare | sneaking around (and failing so badly at it)
Rating: mature
Tags: mention of rough sex, shotgunning, teasing, fingering, sexy underwear, semi-public sex
~*~*~*~
Steve didn’t quite know what to expect when Eddie invited him to a gig. Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy, too. But that had been offhand, nonchalant—an Invite whoever you’d like to come with. Got to make sure we’re not too suspicious, right?
Suspicious.
Hiding from the wandering eyes of the people who knew them best. Not standing too close, but making sure not to outright avoid one another, either. They could sit on the same couch, but not with Steve’s arm behind Eddie’s head on the back of cushion. Not with Eddie’s legs splayed in Steve’s lap, as if he could get that spot before Robin anyway.
They’d taken to putting a bowl of popcorn between them just to be safe.
There was other little safety measures like that. They never drove each other around unless they were also driving around Robin or the kids. Steve never parked in front of the trailer and came in through Eddie’s bedroom window. Eddie did the same for Steve’s house, except when he stayed over after a movie night.
All smoke and mirrors. To keep everyone else from think they were sneaking around behind their backs. That Steve and Eddie were keeping something secret from them.
Because that was what they were doing. Sneaking around.
He hadn’t even told Robin. Not in such specific terms anyway. She was well aware that Steve had a “secret paramour”, as she called it. He told her he wasn’t in some Shakespeare romance from English, and all she’d shot back with was, well yeah, you’d probably be dead if you were.
Eddie had asked him not to tell. When they’d clearly moved on from that first mutual hands-down-each-others-pants behind the school gym the day Eddie and Robin graduated from Hawkins High. After Steve had kissed him before the ceremony to help keep Eddie from spiraling out of control and running off before he could finally walk across that stage.
Moved on to long make-outs on Steve’s bed.  To sucking Eddie off in the back of his van after band practice. To Steve keeping a stash of mixtapes with Eddie’s favorite bands on them in his glovebox and Eddie keeping a stash of Cola on hand at the trailer, along with a spare pair of Steve’s glasses for his migraines.
Their standing offer that if either of them called in the middle of the night, the nightmares too much, too real, the other went over with no question.
Steve had peeked in at the end of a couple practices, when he was rounding up the group for a Hellfire night. Had sat in Eddie’s bedroom with him while he plucked out melodies and chords on his luscious red guitar with such speed in his fingers, Steve’s head spun just watching.
But he had no clue how a concert would go.
And being a Corroded Coffin concert, led by a wild child of chaos like Eddie Munson, anything could happen.
Eddie hadn’t forced Steve to come. Knew that the bright spotlights and excessive sound from the speakers could easily send Steve into another migraine. If Steve had to bow out, he would understand. Of course, he could hardly meet Steve’s eyes when he had said that, voice colored by how much he wished it wasn’t a variable.
It had been a good morning, the day of the concert. No auras. No nausea. Steve had even slept well through the night. He knew why Eddie came by around noon when Steve was working, his deep brown eyes wide and hopeful before he said anything.
“Excited for the concert tonight,” was all he said and Eddie grinned, blinding Steve with his dimples. One was slightly crooked now from the demobat scar on his jaw, and Steve remembered how Eddie had started to turn his head away or let his hair fall forward to cover it when he noticed himself smiling.
He wasn’t doing that now.
Eddie quickly rented two of his old favorites from the Horror section to cover up the real reason he’d come by and then left, lingering just an extra moment at the counter to touch his fingers to Steve’s.
Part of Steve wanted to grab Eddie by the front of his Dio t-shirt and yank him over the counter to kiss him. But they both knew better.
He didn’t see Eddie again until the concert.
He nursed exactly one beer and stared at the small crowd gathered at the Hideout. Corroded Coffin wasn’t the only band performing—a sort of talent show of up and comers—but they were the openers. As his eyes lazily scanned the crowd, nodding every so often when Robin nudged him in the ribs to do so, Steve  wondered if he might see Eddie somewhere.
This was his crowd. The long hair, the dark clothes and leather. Steve vaguely recognized some of the names on people’s shirts—all said in the back of his mind in Eddie’s low voice, usually bemoaning Steve’s ignorance of music culture.
Steve knew there was no reason for Eddie to be out socializing. He was probably pacing back and forth in the tiny closet of a dressing room the venue had provided, wringing his hands through his curls and making them wilder than they already were.
A selfish part of him, the one that got to have Eddie in small bits and pieces when they could manage it, wanted to find Eddie and try to soak up all that anxiety for him. There hadn’t been any chance to wish him good luck.
Steve hadn’t even thought of it when Eddie had come by the video store.
God, he regretted it.
“Hey, you want to go to front with me?”
Robin’s voice filtered through to the front of his mind, and Steve had to shake his head before he turned toward her. She stared at him, eyes wide and intense, and her face way too close to his own.
“What?”
“Do you.” She tilted her chin down. “Want.” Widened her eyes and leaned further into Steve’s space. “To go to the front.” She blinked twice. “With me.”
Steve would have pulled away from Robin, but he was already at the edge of the booth with him, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle all crammed together. And he was half-sure that Eddie would never let him live down Steve “The Former Hair” Harrington falling flat on his face at a metal concert.
“Are you going to have to stand like this the whole time?” he asked.
Robin tsked right in his face, but immediately pulled back. “I would say yes, but your breath smells like citrus and yeast. Now, are we going to the front or not, because if we don’t go now, I will have to use you as a human shield to get there.”
Steve looked far over his shoulder toward the stage. Corroded Coffin’s instruments were set up and waiting, and true to Robin’s worries, as the time drew closer to start the crowd was gathering as close to the front as possible.
“I don’t know, Robin,” he said. Sure, Eddie and his band were performers, but Steve could only imagine how much easier it might be to only see people you don’t even know, who probably don’t even care as long as you play half-decent music. “If Eddie and the band see us, it might make them nervous.”
“Oh, come on. Those stage lights shine so bright they won’t be able to see the end of the stage, much less beyond it.”
“Robs…”
“Please, Steve. It’s our first concert. We have to!” Robin clutched onto his forearm, black-painted nails digging in at the points.
“Alright, alright.” He pried Robin’s hand off him and basically tumbled out of the booth with her following after. He downed the rest of his beer and set the empty bottle on the table. Jonathan and Argyle were engrossed in some personal conversation, but Nancy had noticed them leave.
Strangely enough, she had her brows raised at Robin, who gave her a bright thumbs up and then grabbed onto Steve’s arm again. He opened his mouth to question the interaction, but he didn’t know whether to pose it to Robin or to Nancy. And before he could figure it out, Robin darted for the stage and yanked Steve along behind her.
So, it wasn’t until the house lights dimmed and the stage lights brightened that Steve saw Eddie again.
His first thought was how much he wanted to bite Eddie.
Like he had guessed earlier on, Eddie’s curls were a dark, wild mess around his head. The lights surround him shone on the edges like an aura, and Steve had a flash of terror that a migraine had suddenly decided to burst his lovely, pleasant bubble.
But Eddie was only one. Bathed in the intense, bright light, shining at all of his edges and through the loose curls bouncing as he bounced on the balls of his feet. Wearing a pair of overly-torn up black jeans bedecked with chains hanging from his belt loops and an equally overly-cut up Corroded Coffin t-shirt, his scarred sides and tattoos—old and new—in full view of the crowd. His guitar, his darling, shone its dazzling red now that it was were it belonged with Eddie on stage, and Steve’s eyes caught on the glint of his silver rings as he settled his fingers along the frets.
Robin practically vibrated beside him while the emcee introduced the band. Let out an ear-splitting screech even through the ear plugs he’d bought when the crowd cheered for the band. Which, thankfully, were good enough that Steve only winced from the surprise rather than sheer volume.
The drums—Gareth, he remembered—started first. The three-count that led into the starting thrum of the base. Eddie wasn’t singing on this song, since he wasn’t standing in front of a mic. The other guitarist—his name something starting with a ‘J’—joined the bass with an even, low tenor; mouth pressed close to the mic and giving bedroom eyes to the crowd.
And then Eddie…
Steve knew something was coming. In the way he grinned to himself and tossed his hair over one shoulder, practically thrumming and the stagelight aura around him growing and growing until it burst out when he finally played his starting chord.
It was one chord. Only one.
There was another line of vocals, and then he played the chord once more. The sound tore from the speakers right through Steve, vibrating through his bones and into his veins. The opening chords transitioned into Eddie’s fingers flying across the strings, and he moved—always, always moving, never still his Eddie—with the music as he played.
He saw Eddie look out toward the crowd, squinting for a second like Robin said he probably would. But his gaze traveled across as he played, never missing a note, sweat shining on his exposed skin. Steve moved because Robin did, took caught up in staring at one particular member of the band to remember to actually try jumping or cheering.
Eddie’s dark eyes stopped on a particular spot in the crowd, a lascivious grin  across forming his face. His dimples came out in full force, and still he kept playing his guitar like an extension of his body rather than a simple toll to create strange but intense music.
And he realized…Robin was wrong.
Eddie could absolutely see him.
Because Eddie was staring at him.
He’d migrated closer to one of the speakers at the front of the stage, throwing one combat boot wearing foot onto the top of it, splaying his hips out and laying his guitar across the space. He winked at Steve, he fucking winked and threw back his head as he started a solo—rings sparkling points on his hands as Eddie showed exactly why he and the other boys never gave up even when all they could get was shitty gigs. They worked for it, in every note that Eddie created from his fingers on the strings of his guitar.
The solo finished with a long-held chord like the one Eddie had started the song with—a short break for his hands in the song before he’d start up again. And Eddie found Steve immediately again, smiling like a shark in the water, the point of his canines slightly threatening. The harsh stage lights shining down on him like stars in his eyes, points of light directed at Steve.
There was no way Steve was getting out of there without losing his mind.
He’d make sure of it.
~*~*~*~
Steve knew he was staring at Eddie too much.
He blamed it on the two whiskey shots Robin had tried at Jonathan’s behest and then immediately hated, and which he ended up shooting back as they waited for the band to come out to the bar floor after the show had ended.
That and the three joints that were being passed around now in the dressing room.
He’d had to fight every urge in his body—digging his fingernails deep into palms—to be the first one to greet Eddie when he came bounding out from backstage. But it turned out not to be that much of a problem, when Eddie waved them all to join him, Corroded Coffin and another all-girl metal band in the dressing room for the after party.
Eddie had put himself next to Steve, authentically vibrating with so much afterburn energy from the show that it hid the way he tangled his fingers with Steve’s for a quick two seconds as they walked together.
But, just to be safe, they sat themselves on opposite sides of the room once the group had filed into Dressing Room A.
Eddie perched on the back of one of the couches, boots on the cushion like a damn heathen, but nobody else cared. Liquor bottles and red solo cups littered the table, slowly being abandoned now that they’d gotten their hands on the primo shit brought in by Argyle and Jonathan.
At this point, Steve was sure they could just summon the stuff at will.
But he wasn’t complaining.
He sat mainly with Nancy and Robin. Nancy stuck firmly to her second beer of the night, and Robin—only three pulls from a joint into the night—had her head lolled on Nancy’s shoulder, regaling her with a meandering, but thorough recap of the last three episodes of The Golden Girls she’d watched.
Steve made himself stare at the floor as he took another pull from the joint he was sharing with Argyle, but there was only one place his eyes would go as he exhaled, slow and smoky.
Eddie had his head cocked in Steve’s direction when their eyes met again, his pink lips around the end of his own joint as he inhaled. Gareth was talking to him, clearly used to Eddie’s ability hold a conversation without making eye contact, one hand wildly gesturing until Eddie handed over the blunt.
“Please,” Gareth scoffed, pausing to bring the join to his lips. “That move is so tired. Half the time, you can’t even do it right and the smoke just goes all over the girl’s face.” He waved his hand in front of his own face, as half the group groaned (the boys) and the other half nodded in agreement (the girls).
Eddie gave very little reaction. No, his gaze got this very particular glint that Steve had come to learn meant he was about to do something incredibly reckless and Steve could do nothing to stop him. Eddie launched himself forward from the couch to stand, effectively catching the attention of everyone in the room. His cheeks were flushed and his limbs a bit wobbly compared to the usual, but he was focused. Entirely on Steve.
“I bet the deposed king here pulled this move plenty of times in his partying hayday.” He said, crossing from his couch to Steve’s by way of walking right over the table. He jumped down with a dramatic sigh, landing in front of Jonathan—and then promptly plucked the half-gone joint from his fingers.
Jonathan squawked, but Eddie ignored him since he was quickly quieted by Argyle handing him another fresh one.
Steve tried to remain still, remain composed. He was already laid back with one arm across the back of the couch, so all he had to make sure to do was let Eddie come to him and not reach out to Eddie.
Ducking his chin, Eddie pulled from his stolen joint, stepping slowly, slowly toward Steve. He pulled the blunt away, holding the smoke in his lungs and walked forward until his knees knocked against Steve’s.
He exhaled, the smoke curling toward the ceiling along with an offer that burned in Steve’s veins.
“What’dya say, Harrington. Want to show ‘em how it’s done?”
Steve raised his brows, just to play along. He knew his fingers twitched, and if the group was sober, they might have seen him give himself away in just that action. He hummed in the back of his throat, pretending to consider Eddie’s presumptuous question, before he shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.
“Suppose I have some experience,” he said.
Eddie smiled and held out the joint to Steve, waiting until it was in his hand before clamoring straight into Steve’s lap, straddling his thighs with his knees pressed into the cushions on either side. He stumbled, and Steve was sure that it was at least half of a real one, but he took an opportunity where he could find one and placed a steadying hand on Eddie’s hip.
“Bold,” he commented, loud enough for the group to hear. Robin was giggling off the side. Steve ignored her.
“Is there any other way?” Eddie sang, tapping teasing, risky fingers where Steve’s shirt tucked into his jeans.
 He didn’t look like anyone else in the room, wearing a henley instead of a polo, even if it was a dark gray—the closest thing to black in his closet he could find. But he also knew how Eddie liked the look of his arms with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, so he would wear bright pink if it meant wearing the henley.
Steve brought the end of the blunt to his lips while Eddie stared down at him. He could almost swear that the same points of light were in the center of the pinpoint pupils. Like Eddie had carried the stars and the stage lights with him off stage.
He knew they had to be careful. Shotgunning was close contact, but when they had done this before, it didn’t usually end with them separating afterwards.
When Steve had gathered enough smoke, he passed the joint to Robin without looking at her, and then used his newly freed hand to gently hold Eddie’s chin in a cradle of his fingers. Eddie’s lashes fluttered as Steve guided him down. He even had to stop Eddie from going too far, getting too close and just planting one on him.
He pressed his thumb against the point of Eddie’s chin and when he parted his lips, Steve released the smoke in his lungs, soaking into his blood after so long. 
Unlike how Gareth had complained just before, Steve let the smoke go slow, giving out as Eddie took it with his inhale. A few stray wisps curled toward the ceiling, but Eddie breathed in all that Steve had over the course of a dizzying span of time.
Their top lips brushed as the smoke tapered off, and Steve felt it shoot through his spine. He clenched the hand holding on to Eddie’s hip to keep his control, and a couple of his fingers slipped back the waistband of Eddie’s jeans.
He was used to feeling of Eddie’s boxers, the elastic band of cotton. Normally black, but Steve knew for a fact Eddie had a pair of Garfield ones from Wayne that he wore to bed if Steve could keep his mouth shut.
But this…
He felt lace.
“Eds?” he murmured, dipping his fingers lower and finding more and more thin, delicate detail warmed by Eddie’s body heat. “What…”
Eddie planted his hands on Steve’s shoulders and pushed up just enough that Steve would be the only one to hear him. He winked as he mouthed, For later.
“Damn Munson, give the man some breathing room. He just barely made it through his first metal concert,” A loud voice—Gareth—annoying only because Steve wanted to pull Eddie right onto the fucking semi he was now sporting in his jeans, echoed across the room.
Everyone was too drunk, or high, or both to fully take in what the fuck had just happened right in front of them. So Steve was sure it was alright for Eddie to risk another thirty seconds in Steve’s lap to murmur under his breath another offer Steve would have to be dead to refuse.
“Five minutes. Dressing room B.”
Steve nodded, eyes flicking down to Eddie’s mouth. Eddie tutted softly and narrowed his eyes, playful and with a hint of a threat, before he threw his head back and returned to his performed for their audience.
“Stevie here can handle himself pretty well, I think. Knows we’re not all so big and bad.” He slid off Steve’s lap, and did a pretty impressive twirl for how much less sober than he was high. Steve noticed Gareth rolling his eyes, tipping back a drink from the vodka bottle from the coffee table.
He knew he was watching Eddie too much again. And Steve almost didn’t care, until Robin decided that she’d had enough with Nancy and flopped over to lay across Steve’s front instead. He was just glad she hadn’t decided to go for his lap with how incriminating his dick was being in his jeans at the moment.
“M’proud of you, dingus,” she said, voice heavy but not slurred.
He laughed through his nose. “Thanks.”
She raised one hand up into the air, level with Steve’s face. And he honestly should have seen it coming far faster than he did, because then her palm was directly over his nose as she patted her fingers against his forehead. “You did…so good at the concert. Didn’t even complain once that you didn’t understand the music.”
Eddie was the main reason for that. Steve had wanted to know just what about metal music enticed Eddie so much to dedicate part of his identity to it. And, once given the opportunity, Eddie had launched a full-fledged campaign to walk Steve through chord progressions and the actual skills it took to play the chaotic melodies that he loved so much.
There were still some songs that Steve could not hear as anything other than a discordant headache, but, honestly…it was more about watching Eddie talk without restriction.
And, of course, Steve had lost all coherent consciousness while watching Eddie on stage.
Robin had stopped talking, tucking her face into Steve’s neck. He was probably going to have some of her makeup on his shirt, but he’d been covered in much worse before.
He realized he hadn’t been looking at Eddie. Always looking out for him, Robin. Even when she had no idea she was doing it.
Steve looked, and couldn’t find him. He turned to look behind him in case Eddie was doing something strange because the weed had really hit him, but there was no sign of his sexy, lace-wearing metalhead.
While he’d been distracted by a cuddling, giggly Robin, Eddie had slipped out of the room.
He had no idea if five minutes had passed or not.
It was probably better for Steve to be early than to leave Eddie waiting for him when he clearly had a surprise waiting. And the last time Steve had been late, Eddie’s revenge had been swift. Eddie was entirely too skilled with his mouth for his own good.
“Okay,” he said to Robin, easing her off of his shoulder. He’d hoped to pass her over to Nancy, but she had mysteriously disappeared too. A quick scan, and it was clear she wasn’t in the room either, so Steve eased her to lie on one of the pillows. He chuckled when she immediately snuggled into it.
Rising to his feet, Steve turned next to Jonathan and snapped his fingers in front of his face until he got his attention. The dude was blitzed out of his mind, but he wasn’t Steve’s permanent solution anyway.
“Watch her until I send Nancy back here,” he said, pointing at Robin. Jonathan’s eyes slowly followed his hand until they landed, and then he furrowed his brows.
He nodded, solemnly.
“Watch her,” he repeated.
Jesus. Okay.
Steve ran both hands through his hair, damp at his hairline with sweat, and took in a deep breath. They’d all been in there so long, he could taste the acrid smoke in the air, the smell of spilled drinks, a bit stinging when it hit his nose.
If he hadn’t been smoking already, he’d probably have a hell of a contact high.
Cab fares back to the hotel were going to suck.
He made his way to the door and into the hallway, even the stale air of the bar miles above the congested air of the dressing room. He sucked in as much as he could with his mouth open, scanning slowly down the line of three other doors for one marked “B” in large, white paint.
Wasn’t hard to find, and Steve smiled, knowing what was waiting for him on the other side.
“Steve.”
Fuck.
He’d be beelining for the door with Eddie behind it, he hadn’t even noticed another door opening on the other side of the hall.
He’d also forgotten he was supposed to be looking for Nancy.
At least that solved itself.
“Nancy,” he said, too high-pitched. He cleared his throat and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as she hovered in the hall with him, perfect brow arched high. “Finally sick of the smell of weed and sweat?”
“Just using the bathroom.” She pointed at the door she’d come through.
“Makes sense.”
Nancy glanced at the door to the first dressing room. Clearly behind Steve, and clearly being left for another room. “You going somewhere?”
Steve was in the middle of the hallway, in between dressing rooms A and B just enough that maybe Nancy wouldn’t be able to put the very clear two and two together.
“Just stepping out for a minute. Get some fresh air away from the hotbox back there.” Steve managed a single-second smile.
All it did was tip Nancy off. She tilted her head, getting that thoughtful look on her face that unlocked the secrets of the damn universe. She stared at him, and he couldn’t help it.
He looked at dressing room B.
Nancy stood a bit straighter, her shoulders rising. “I saw Eddie leave, too. Few minutes before you.”
“Not that weird. He’s probably exhausted.” Steve shrugged and stuffed his hands into his front pockets.
“So you’re going to his dressing room to…tuck him in?”
Fuck. Again.
“I—”
Nancy knew. That was the crux of it. She knew and nothing Steve could ever think of would convince her otherwise.
“So,” she said brightly. “Eddie, huh?”
He didn’t care that she knew about him.
Eddie, on the other hand, kept all of himself much closer to his chest. And he’d no say in how someone else had found out about him.
Steve didn’t know how else to answer. It seemed pointless to lie. And he wanted to get to Eddie.
“Yeah.” His voice came out as a croak, betraying his nervousness.
“Curly hair and brown eyes are really your type, aren’t they?”
A laugh tumbled out of him, because damn…it kind of was.
Except, Eddie was somehow able to let Steve give him everything every chance he could. So far, Steve hadn’t yet become too much for Eddie. Sometimes it even seemed like he wanted more.
Steve was still trying to wrap his head around it.
Nancy knocked him out of his head with a gentle pat of her hand on his shoulder. She’d walked closer while he was zoned out, and her eyes were pointed as she looked at him.
“Go get your boy, Harrington. I’m sure he’s waiting eagerly for you.” She shuddered, lowering her hand. “Uck, don’t ever make me think about what you two might be getting up to in there.”
“I didn’t make you the first time,” Steve pointed out.
Nancy just waved her hand, dismissing herself from the conversation and headed for the door the dressing room with the rest of the group. Steve breathed a sigh of relief.
Then remembered one last thing.
He turned after Nancy, finding her with her hand just on the doorknob. She must have heard his feet shuffling on the floor, because she was already waiting for his question.
“Could you keep an eye on Robin, please?”
“Of course.” She smiled, opening the door. “I’ve still got to find out how this episode ends.”
Steve let out a surprised huff of laughter, standing in the hall until Nancy had closed the door behind her. He hovered just a second longer, listening to the sounds of conversation that filtered through the door. No one else was going to come out, not in the time it would take Steve to finally join Eddie in the other dressing room.
He could only hope it hadn’t been five minutes yet.
Turned out, he’d just made it.
Eddie hadn’t been expecting him yet, startled enough to jump when Steve entered the room. His curls bounced and then settled over his shoulders, but that wasn’t the only thing that caught Steve’s eye.
Eddie had taken off his jeans already, standing in the middle of the otherwise empty dressing room in his stylishly cut up t-shirt and…lace underwear.
“Holy fuck,” Steve whispered.
Eddie’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, nervously pulling a strand of his hair over his mouth as Steve stood, dumbstruck, in front of the door. He twisted his hair between his fingers, brown eyes flitting to Steve and holding there.
Even if Steve had surprised him, he’d already put his cards on the table. Teased Steve enough to entice him. Now, fully revealing the whole surprise.
The one thing Steve might have expected: the underwear was black.
They were shaped more like shorts than any lacy underwear Steve had ever seen. Very obscene, very short shorts, the cut of them ending just under Eddie’s butt. The legs went further down on Eddie’s thighs, but each and every bit of fabric was just see-through enough to see a hint of Eddie’s pale skin through the lace detailing.
“You’ve been wearing those the whole time?”
A smirk grew across Eddie’s face.
“That’s right,” he said.
And Steve surged forward, a fire burning in his blood at the very thought that Eddie had spent an hour and a half performing in front of at least a hundred people—all the while wearing lace fucking panties for Steve to find on him afterward.
He crossed the room in four long strides, capturing Eddie’s laugh at his behavior with the fierce press of his mouth. Eddie hummed when Steve placed both hands along his jaw, and shuddered from head to toe when Steve kept going, until Eddie’s back hit the wall.
Steve had to touch. He had to.
He brought one hand down from Eddie’s face to the soft flesh of his thigh, fingertips grazing the lace. He sighed, sliding across the fabric to cup the Eddie’s pert, round cheek. Eddie pushed onto his toes, his hands already tugging Steve’s shirt from his jeans.
The underwear was rough against Steve’s palm, scrunched a bit when he massaged and pulled Eddie against him. He could feel Eddie’s dick twitch through the underwear where it pressed against his stomach, and Steve dug his fingers in harder to make it happen again.
“Lube?” he asked, although Eddie couldn’t answer right away with Steve licking into his mouth and biting at his lips.
Steve would have loved to lay Eddie out on the couch behind them, push his shirt up and really see the dark black of the panties in contrast with Eddie’s pale skin. How hi cock stretched out the ffront, maybe didn’t even fit because Steve didn’t know if they made these type of things for guys—but they didn’t have the time. Eventually, the band would need to pack up their things and vacate the bar.
Eddie finally turned his head away to catch his breath. And answer Steve.
“Table,” he panted.
Steve hummed deep in his chest.
“Stay here,” he said, patting Eddie twice on the butt before leaving him.
Eddie slumped back against the wall, rubbing himself slowly through his underwear. He watched Steve jog over the table, laughing softly when Steve stripped his shirt. He’d only been with Eddie for a few minutes, and was already overheating, sue him.
He grabbed the little bottle of lube—perched conspicuously in the center of the coffee table—and returned to Eddie. He’d opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment about Steve’s rush, but he never got the chance for more than a syllable. Not with Steve curling a hand into the thick of his hair, and kissing him hard.
Eddie floundered for a moment, lost in feeling just how Steve explored his mouth with his tongue before his hands landed on Steve’s biceps and he started moving his lips.
One-handed, Steve clicked open the lube bottle. Had to let go of Eddie’s hair since that was his dominant hand, and slicked his fingers. He felt some of it drip onto the floor, but he didn’t really care.
“Give me your hand, babe,” he said, and tipped some more onto Eddie’s fingers. He clicked shut the bottle and threw it to the other side of the room. Eddie laughed as it clattered on the floor, his slick hand bumping against Steve’s bare stomach.
Steve’s head was swimming, he wanted Eddie so much.
“Want to start for me?” he asked, at the same time unbuttoning his jeans with his free hand.
Eddie bit his lip and nodded.
They moved at the same time, Steve getting his hard cock out of his pants and slowly slicking himself with his lubed hand. Eddie arched his back and reached behind him, quickly getting his hand into his pretty, slutty underwear and prepping himself for Steve.
Steve stroked his cock slow, almost leisurely. Watched as Eddie’s mouth parted when he slipped at least two fingers inside, and the tensing of his shoulder while he thrust them in and out. Steve wondered how the lace felt against his hand, getting a little wet from the lube.
“God, as soon as you’re ready, I’m going to put those panties down to your thighs and take you while you’re facing the wall. Going feel that lace dragging against the bruises from my hips on your ass afterwards,” Steve said. His breath caught in his chest when Eddie dug his teeth into his lower lip and stared at Steve through his dark lashes.
His eyes still had that glint in them. The stars from the stage.
“Feeling real frisky there, Steve.”
Steve took in a deep, shaky breath, unable to hold back his smile. “You don’t surprise me unless you want it that way. When you want me to fuck you hard and fast, even if we didn’t have the time crunch.”
“Maybe,” Eddie muttered, arching his spine as he added another finger to whatever his count was. “You still owe me one after this, Harrington. I had to go hours in this scratchy lace while being cooked under those stage lights.”
He was a bit breathless, now. Head tipped back with a soft moan as he hit a pleasurable spot inside him, the sounds of his fingers growing louder. Steve couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward and mouthed a messy pattern at the exposed line of Eddie’s throat.
 “Anything.”
”Okay, then.” Eddie’s voice lilted up, and Steve could hear the trickster idea forming in his head.
Steve was either going to seriously regret this or develop some new kink. Eddie had a way of doing that to him.
“You’re wearing them next.”
“Deal.” Steve bit lightly at Eddie’s throat and then stepped back, dragging his eyes down the line of Eddie’s body, clad in black, lace underwear. “Now, turn around.”
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 year ago
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Eddie and Steve are still both clueless about each other and their sexuality. Robin is just as clueless about them. Steve and Eddie both deal with unresolved sexual tension by arguing a lot. Steve, Eddie, and Robin are hanging out at Steve's place when yet another argument occurs.
Robin: Oh my God! Either make out or get out!
Eddie and Steve stop with wide eyes before looking at each other. They immediately start rambling incoherently, their voices joining together as they scoffed and laughed rather forcefully.
Eddie: I never never thought about -
Steve: Certainly never dreamed -
Robin: *her eyes wide* I was joking.
Eddie and Steve: I'm straight!
Robin: Right. . . *grabs their heads* I'm going to shake your heads, and if you dinguses start seeing rainbows, you're not straight!
Eddie: *shrieks* This doesn't sound like a very accurate test, Buckley!
Steve: We're not Magic 8 balls, Robin!
Robin shook their heads, and Eddie hollers until she lets go.
Eddie: I hat - Oh my God, I see them.
Steve: Fuck. Me too.
Robin: You see them because you want to see them. So, sources say. . .very likely.
Eddie and Steve look at each other with wide eyes.
Steve: We're, uh, going to go talk.
Steve pulled Eddie out of the room, and Robin breathed a sigh of relief.
Robin: Oh, thank God, I have no idea what the fuck I was talking about. I totally panicked. . .well, at least I can watch the movie in peace.
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whathehonestfuk · 2 months ago
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Steve dies sacrificing himself to make sure vecna is defeated for good
As he dies Eddie's there to greet him and welcome him with open arms
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i am a firm believer that, in the eyes of robin, steve = dingus and his boyfriend eddie = doofus
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puppy-stevee · 1 year ago
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modern 19 y/o steve's twitter would be a melting pot of
-shenanigans that involve his 1) 20 year old drug dealing metalhead boyfriend 2) his platonic soulmate who is a lesbian 3) a gaggle of 15 year olds who are his pseudo-siblings 4) his ex girlfriend, her boyfriend, and her boyfriend's boyfriend
-married father of two
and there's no in between
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darkphoenix180 · 5 months ago
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