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Steddie strangers to enemies to lovers where they happen to meet by chance frequently when they're grocery shopping.
They notice each other for the first time when both reach out at the same time for the last box of cereal.
They laugh it off, argue a little, both insisting the other take the box until Steve finally wins and forces Eddie into getting the cereal.
But then they meet again the following week, this time both wanting the same jar of mayo.
Then it's about beer. Then pancake mix, then freaking lettuce. Somewhere along the way, there are no friendly arguments anymore and they start to get pissed off at each other for real.
"You're doing this on purpose," Steve accuses one day, when he finds himself once again arguing over toilet paper of all things. "There's no fucking way. You're stalking me and trying to get my stuff just to piss me off."
"Oh yeah, because I really have nothing better to do with my life than stalking some random guy who buys three boxes of Boppers every fucking week," Eddie sneers.
A continuation of my Switch Eddie Week submission!
[ AO3 ]
Steddie | Rated: E | 26.6K | CWs: N/A for Chapter 3 | Chapter 3 Tags: Oral Sex, Mild Painplay, Cock & Ball Torture (mild), Flexibility, Bad BDSM Etiquette (During the private scenes)
Steve gets to try something new, and Eddie gets a taste of who he can be.
Excerpt
Eddie’s making coffee when he comes out—he’s wearing a shirt and basketball shorts and Steve’s not going to begrudge his clothes even though he really wants to press up behind him and feel more of skin.
“How do you take it?” Eddie asks, setting two mugs out. Steve takes another bracing swallow against the lump in his throat and smiles.
“Up the ass,” he jokes, though if Eddie wanted to he’d spend a strange half hour back in the bathroom just to let him. “Usually with some milk and sugar, but I’m not picky. It’s all about the drugs for me with coffee.”
Eddie gives him a wry little smirk and a once over. His hair is down and it’s twice the size it was last night—monstrous tendrils lay over his shoulders from where it got half wet in the bath, then turn into a giant frizzy halo around Eddie’s head. It’s objectively stupid and Steve wants to push him down and strip him and touch him fucking everywhere.
“Are you hungry? What do you usually eat for breakfast?” Eddie asks, unaware of what Steve’s whole interior is doing—it’s a fucking miracle, that even with the skin and hair, that Eddie isn’t seeing right through him. “We can get a little fancy with it this morning.”
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you think there’s a connection between Eddie and the… slime?
for @corrodedcoffinfest
Prompt Day 21: Ecto Cooler | Word Count: 996 | Rating: G | CW: none | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Ghost!Eddie is haunting Steve, questionable ghost science ahead, first kiss
It’s actually incredibly ironic – that the violently green drink released as a promotional tie-in for a ghost movie is actually helping Steve with his ghost problem.
“Sorry,” he says, after the wet sponge he’s washing dishes with flies out of his hands and smacks him in the forehead, sending soapy water everywhere. “You’re not a problem, I didn’t mean that.”
The hand towel hanging from the cupboard door handle to his right floats up and gently pats Steve’s face dry. Tingly air presses close to him in contrition – it’s not warm, it’s just… kinda fizzy? That’s the best way Steve can describe it. Like every inch of his skin, like every hair on his body is alive and at attention.
“You’re forgiven if I am,” Steve says, and the electrified air presses closer. He could swear he feels something like lips delicately brush the nape of his neck and he shivers. “You’re not a problem.”
It’s the circumstances that are the problem; Eddie has better control of lifting objects now than he did at first, and can write to Steve using a pen and paper that he leaves out for him at all times. He can make the TV static dance into vague shapes. He can make Steve definitively notice the difference in the air when he comes near now, whereas before he just thought he was freezing all the time, that his circulation had given up the – ahem – ghost at the ripe old age of twenty.
But Steve can’t see him.
He can’t touch him.
Sometimes he thinks he can hear Eddie’s voice, but only when they’re at opposite ends of the house, like when he’s just coming out of his shower upstairs, and he thinks he hears the baby grand downstairs playing, and Eddie’s lovely voice singing Springsteen’s Nebraska. Steve loves that song, that album, but the first time he thought he heard “They declared me unfit to live, said into that great void my soul be hurled,” he sobbed so hard he was convinced he’d gone insane. He can never hear Eddie when they’re in the same room, which, okay sure, Steve can admit, is probably a minus in the ‘still sane’ column.
They’ve tried flinging flour on Eddie’s ghostly form – it only left Steve with a horrible mess to clean up, and Eddie’s guilt and melancholia choking the air in the house for the rest of the afternoon. They’ve tried photographing him on film, and on polaroid. They’ve tried flash on, flash off, they’ve tried long-exposure with Jonathan’s tripod – Steve never did tell him why he needed to borrow it, no one knows Steve’s being haunted by Eddie’s ghost – and it all amounted to nothing.
Nothing, until yesterday evening when Steve was hosting the Party’s D&D night at his place, and Dustin spilled a whole glass of Ecto Cooler – just knocked it clean off the dining room table and onto the floor between where he and Steve were sitting. Steve hadn’t actually been participating, he’d been reading a magazine, but Eddie had been hovering just behind him, observing the gameplay, and maybe admiring the picture of Bon Jovi on one side of the page, and Ann and Nancy Wilson from Heart on the other, if anything was to be judged by the way Steve couldn’t turn the page for a good 30 seconds.
“Goddamnit Henderson,” Steve had complained, “anything but the radioactive green juice, surely?”
When he’d come back with a towel and seltzer though, he’d seen it – the outline of a Reebok, and his heart had taken off at a gallop. Eddie had obviously noticed and was keeping very still, lest they alert the kids, and Steve had carefully wiped it off as he cleaned up, but they’d both practically vibrated on the same intense frequency as they waited for the kids to leave so they could test it again.
Steve’s got no idea what the science is, or magic, or whatever. He just knows that Eddie can drink Ecto Cooler – crazy, because he can’t touch any other food or liquids – and after he does, he’s visible, glowing a soft green, and solid, like normal matter. They only had about a quarter of Dustin’s forgotten can left, so it only lasted about 15 minutes, but Steve’s hopeful a full can might have Eddie glowing and visible for hours.
With the dishes done, and the clock finally showing a time when the shops will be open, Steve snatches up his keys and tosses out an excited, “Be right back!” to his ghost.
Forty minutes later, he parks haphazardly in the driveway and grabs the pack of Ecto Coolers off the front seat and races back inside. “I’ve got it!” he shouts, cracking open a can and decanting it into a glass, waiting eagerly for the press of fizzy air that means Eddie is nearby. He feels it, and he watches the Ecto Cooler disappear from the glass – wild – and as it’s emptying, it’s like Eddie fills up; appearing from his feet first, until finally all of him is visible, faintly green and softly glowing.
Eddie’s in the clothes Steve last saw him in, but clean and unblemished. He’s grinning, dimples on full display, those big brown eyes alight with something (not just Ecto Cooler Green Ghost Glow). Steve’s heart is in his throat. He lifts his hands and reaches out, but he pauses, unsure.
“So… what do you want to do, while you’re kind of corporeal?” he asks.
Eddie steps closer and cool fingers cup Steve’s jaw. His thumb slides slowly over his cheek, tracing the space between his two moles. Eddie’s voice is husky with disuse – it feels like his fizzy air on Steve’s skin and it makes his stomach curl pleasantly. “This,” he croaks.
And then Steve’s being kissed, and it tastes faintly of orange-tangerine, and the air is fizzy, and thank God for Ecto Coolers.
I want Steddie just getting along and being gradually drawn to each other. Sure, the flirting pretty much still exists, but it's just a part of it and it doesn't really get intense quickly, so neither feel pressured to make a move or go into flight mode and just enjoy and look at each other fondly.
I want them planning silly mischiefs around Hawkins and pranking the kids together. I want them laughing so hard until they're breathless at stupid, almost non-existent things. I want them accidentally falling asleep on each others' shoulders while watching a movie and settling for sharing the couch 'cause their blankets are already there. I want Eddie teaching Steve how to play videogames. I want them blasting up some rock band they settled for a middle ground between their music taste on the road while Steve drives and Eddie almost climbs out of the window and screams cause life is really good when they're together.
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the fandom tendency to put Eddie at the very bottom of the Hawkins High hierarchy is a little funny to me. I mean, yes, obviously as a nerd/freak/burnout he's lower in the general pecking order than the jocks, but within his little sub-group he's absolutely at the top. everyone in Hellfire is obviously, textually intimidated by him to some degree.
and even beyond his immediate social circle, Eddie is a) older than most of the other kids and b) dealing. you gonna tell me a band kid is gonna look down their nose at Eddie? or someone like Fred Benson? those kids are either getting their weed from him, thinking "man it must be nice to be so confident" or deathly afraid he'll stab them or whatever it is scary ~drug dealers do. and when whatever school bully is on the hunt for someone to pick on there are definitely much easier targets than Eddie.
Worth noting the fandom didn't do this out of nowhere, Eddie did.
"We're an easy target. We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science... or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets."
It's not even the jocks who call him a loser during that scene, it's one of the other student groups.
Eddie is the one who says Hellfire (and by extention, himself) is an easier target than the other groups.
well, he's saying people who play D&D make an easy target and get called freaks for it, which, yes. I guess I'm mostly arguing degrees, here, specifically within Hawkins High as opposed to wider society. Eddie doesn't have a lot of social cachet at school but he's also not the person with the least.
For @steddiemicrofic July Week 3 prompt: Micro
WC: 555 | Rating: E | Tags: Bossy Steve, Microphilia fantasy, Handjob, LOTS of dirty talk, Steve indulging in Eddie's weird horny fantasies
"What's something you're into?"
Eddie blinks, barely able to register the question with how Steve is straddling his lap, his hand expertly stroking Eddie's dick.
"You know what I'm into," he says after a moment, and Steve hums.
"Yeah, but— I feel like there's more. I mean, you're a freak, baby. Surely there's more than just 'act like a brat and let me spank you for it'."
"I mean… There's is, but it's weird. Like, actually weird."
"Well it's a good thing I actually like you. Tell me."
Eddie takes a breath and screws his eyes shut, unable to even look at Steve as he says "Microphilia."
Steve makes a curious noise as he thumbs at the head of Eddie's dick, and Eddie knows he wants him to explain.
"It's like… Being attracted to creatures— people— that are smaller than you. Much smaller."
"How small?" Steve asks, and Eddie shudders, in disbelief that they're even talking about this.
"Like… Tinkerbell size."
Steve's hand pauses for just a second before it continues. "Mm, I think I get it. Let's say you… find an injured fairy. Nurse him back to health. He asks what he can do to repay you, but all you can think about is his tiny little body, so… You ask if you can taste him."
Eddie's eyes snap open to find Steve looking down at him, smug as hell.
"Steve, what the fuck," he wheezes, his dick rock hard in his boyfriend's grip. He often forgets that, while Steve may not be a total nerd like Eddie is, he's an absolute menace in bed. A talented, passionate menace.
"He lays out in your palm," Steve continues, "completely naked, and you lick over him. You can feel his wings beating against your hand as you soak him in your spit. His little dick is hard against your tongue as you lick him over and over, and then you taste something sweet as he finally comes against you."
Eddie claws at Steve's thighs, thankful that his sweats keep him from doing any real damage to the other boy.
"Steve—"
"He says that he wants to make you feel good too, so you lay back just like this and push your pants down. He's about as tall as your dick, and he wraps his arms around it as he grinds against it."
"Baby, please—"
Eddie doesn't even know what he's begging for, and Steve doesn't seem to care regardless, barelling forward in his erotic tale.
"You watch him press a kiss to the hole, then see him stick his tongue into it to lick up your precum. His arms squeeze you before he reaches up and sticks a tiny finger in, then his whole little hand—"
Steve digs his thumbnail into the tip of Eddie's dick, and that's as far as he gets before Eddie is coming with a shout, spilling hot and messy over Steve's hand. Steve looks like a proud bastard as he strokes Eddie though it until he's a panting puddle.
"Steve," Eddie gasps after a moment, finally finding his breath. "What—?"
Steve grins and leans down to press a kiss to Eddie's slack mouth. "I found your horny fantasy journal. I was a little mad a first that you were keeping things from me, but this more than made up for it."
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New tarot card! You guys voted, and here she is- Nancy Wheeler, as the Four of Swords!! Which makes her the last figure of the suit of swords I've drawn... Holy shit.
Suburban girl to whom nothing bad happens, ever. Now!
Who's next?
The lab children (001, 008, 011)
Lucas Sinclair
Patty Newby
Jonathan Byers
Joyce Byers
Will (+ Party)
Jim Hopper
Papa / Dr. Brenner
Voting ended onJul 12
And those eight are actually the last tarot cards I'd have to draw to finish the deck... That I started almost five years ago. Dang. Anyway! Here are the other ST cards...
blakekathryn
2087
snowghoul
discoholicmusic
titsay
