#Eddie watching Steve get his flirt on with MEN

[hairmetal666]

Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.

But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.

The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.

He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--

What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.

There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.

He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.

Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.

He's beautiful.

The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.

Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--

He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.

---

Steve goes back the next night.

He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.

It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--

Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.

There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.

Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.

He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."

The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"

Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"

"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"

"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.

"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."

"Is that right? Surely not this much."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."

Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.

"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.

"To Chicago or to this club?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."

Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."

He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."

"And one of the things was that you like dick?"

"Looks like it."

'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."

"Impressed?"

Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."

"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.

"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.

They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.

"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."

"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"

"Weird?"

"Fucking hot, dude."

"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.

"Course,"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"You could do something about it."

Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.

"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.

"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.

He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.

It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.

They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.

Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.

Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"

"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."

Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."

[agreeewrites]

what about 1000 glances with steve 🥺

anything for my doomsdaybby 🫶🏻

1000 glances | S.H.

feat. Steve Harrington x bartender!reader

cw: MDNI 18+, making out/heavy petting, bar setting, drinking, creepy drunk men, lots of banter, sorry to edge you at the end lol

1000 things prompt list | masterlist

“Well, well. If it isn’t Hawkins most troublesome trio,” you called, flipping up the tap on the beer you were pouring.

Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, and Steve Harrington shuffled up to your bar looking thirsty. Steve in particular, though you could tell by his wandering eye that it wasn't booze he craved.

The music from the band thumped loudly through the packed bar, rattling the bottles behind you. The Hideaway was busier than usual tonight, and you'd been running ragged your entire shift, but you couldn't help but pause for your favorite regulars.

“Hello gorgeous,” Eddie cooed, bracing his hands on the bar and leaning towards you. “Band tonight's dog shit, eh?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just because it's not Corroded Cattails or whatever—”

“Coffin! You smartass,” Eddie huffed, flipping you the bird.

“Yeah, yeah. Ever think about getting yourself some real friends, Buckley?” You asked, glancing at the brunette picking pretzels out of the snack bowl.

Robin shrugged. “They keep the rednecks away.”

“Fair enough,” you replied. “And what's your excuse, Harrington? Lost your invite to country club?”

Steve chuckled, his hip leaned against the bar. “Something like that.” His eyes flicked up from your corset top, meeting yours with the intensity of a thunderclap.

You told yourself that you wore it for the extra tips, and not because you knew Steve would be there tonight, but it was a lie. As soon as you saw the burgundy leather, held together with string and prayer, you thought of Steve, and how quickly he could get it off of you.

And it seemed that Steve was thinking the same thing, his brown eyes melting like honey as he stared at you.

“So, what'll it be?” You asked, breaking the prolonged eye contact. “Jack and coke and two PBR’s?”

“Yes ma’am!” Eddie chirped.

“Comin’ right up.” You turned back to your station, starting on Eddie’s Jack and coke, but could feel Steve's eyes lingering on you, stealing glances at you between people watching and his friends.

You were just as guilty, glancing up at him between pours, while scooping ice, while rummaging through the cooler. You couldn't help it, he looked particularly handsome tonight in his white t-shirt and blue bomber jacket, light wash jeans hugging his thighs and hips perfectly—

“Hey, y/n, uh, you're overflowing,” a customer called out to you, jerking you out of your stupor. Coke was pouring over the glass and all over your hand.

“Shit! Thanks,” you said, setting Eddies drink aside and running your hand under the sink. You prayed Steve didn't see, but when your risked a glance at him, he was smiling, lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Alright, one Jack and coke, and two cans of ice cold piss.” You set the drinks on the bar, avoiding Steve's eye.

“Thanks, honey,” Steve said, his finger tips brushing yours when he took the chilled can, sending a wave of tingles up your arm, your heart pounding in your chest.

You hurried away to tend to other customers, the line having piled up in just that few minutes you were talking to them. The perfect distraction from the all-consuming presence of Steve Harrington.

The two of you had been making eyes at each other for months, stolen glances across bars and over heads, but neither of you had made a move towards one another. You avoided bar-related dalliances at all costs, and Steve was, well, an incorrigible flirt despite having matured considerably since graduation. You chalked his attention up to old habits, and left it that.

But Steve was growing hard to resist, especially when your reasoning for keeping him at arms length was as flimsy as the half-cooked french fries the kitchen put out.

You wanted him. Bad. And from the flush crawling up his neck and the way he kept shifting his weight, he wanted you just as badly.

Your proof came twenty minutes later when you went to grab Steve and Robin's empty cans. Beneath Steve's can was a napkin, blue ink scribbled across the bottom.

New top?

Your heart skipped a beat, and when you brought them fresh ones, you left a return note under Steve's.

You noticed? Creep.

Steve huffed a laugh after you turned your back.

Ten minutes later, they put in an order from some burgers, and you noticed another note written on the opposite corner of yours, facing you.

Can't help myself.

You placed their order with the kitchen, giving the line cook a stern word about properly cooked meat, and when you brought out the loaded up tray, you left another note under Steve's cheeseburger.

Just going to stare?

It was a bold move, far bolder than you typically like to be, but you had a feeling Steve would reciprocate.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you brought them a round of whiskey shots, with an extra tequila one for yourself for courage. There was a note folded at the end of the tray.

When does your shift end?

Steve grinned when you lifted your shot with them, earning a cheer from Eddie and Robin. You licked the rim and slammed the clear liquor back, savoring the pleasant burn of tequila and lime as it slid down your throat.

Holding Steve's openly appreciative stare, you licked the extra salt off the rim of the glass. “One,” you said and he smirked, dipping his chin in acknowledgment.

You lost track of the trio not long after that, all of them dispensing out to the dance floor or pit. But when you clocked out and gathered your things, stepping out from the humid bar and into the cool night, you found Steve was waiting for you, sitting on the open tailgate of a baby blue pickup truck.

“You’re late,” He teased, sliding off the back of the truck with a smile.

“It is—” you checked your watch “—1:03, to be exact.”

“Longest three minutes of my life,” he said, one of his hands reaching for your hip and drawing you closer.

“So impatient,” you hummed, leaning into his chest and looking up at him, your head barely reaching his clavicle.

“Been waiting a long time for you to work up the courage to talk to me.”

You barked a laugh, giddy excitement surging through you, and he caught the sound with a soft kiss. It was a barely a brush, a shameless tease, but it has your body practically purring with desire.

“This okay?” He asked, his voice a bit more breathless than it was before, his nose bumping against yours

You nodded, rising on your toes to kiss him again, tasting the booze on his lips, poorly masked by the mint he must have popped before you came out. God, he was adorable.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve took your things from your arms and set them on the edge of the tailgate, freeing your arms. He embraced you again, one hand on your lower back bringing your bodies flush together, the other cupping your face to angle your head just right. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, inquisitive, and you welcomed him, gliding your tongue against his.

The kiss quickly turned sensual, his fingertips trailing beneath the hem of your shirt to feel the smooth skin of your hip, his hand tangling in your hair. You melted into him, allowing yourself to get swept up in the moment, enjoy the taste and feel of Steve Harrington’s self-control unraveling just for you.

A burst of voices coming out of the bar yanked you from the moment, though, startling you enough to break the kiss. You could feel their eyes on you, slimy, cancerous stares that made your skin crawl.

“Hey, it's y/n!” One of them called, your name slurring on their tongue.

“C’mon, baby! Whatcha doin’ with that boy? Girl like you needs a man!”

Steve pulled you tighter to him, mouth set in a hard line as he glared across the parking lot.

“Take your limp dick back home to your wife, Shaw!” You shouted back. “See how manly you are then, flopping on top of her like a goddamn fish!”

The drunks roared in protest. Steve grabbed your things and hurried you back around the truck, shaking his head and trying very hard to look stern despite the smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“You're a menace,” he murmured, his voice honeyed with affection as he pressed you back against the passenger door. He leaned in again, but instead of kissing you his lips found your neck, trailing kisses along the column of your throat.

“Mhm—does your truck have a bench seat?” You asked, tilting your head back against the window.

He nodded, smirking against your skin. “Leather, too,” he said, nipping at a soft spot he found beneath your ear.

“Steve Harrington,” you gasped, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging his head up. “I had no idea you could be so bold.”

“What can I say? I'm full of surprises.”

“Prove it,” you taunted.

In a quick motion, he pulled you forward and opened the passenger door, then was tossing you up onto the seat.

“Oh, baby. I intend to.”

[queerweirdness]

“You totally like Eddie!” Robin accuses him one day as they are sitting on the couch, just shooting the shit. She had come over to watch a movie but they got distracted talking about people from school. Apparently some little freshman boy had been continuously hitting on her, despite knowing he was a senior. They eventually got on the topic of how Eddie acts in school. Steve remembers the way he pranced on tables at lunch and flirted with the jocks everythime they made a comment about him. He has been friendly with Robin at school, considering he’s officially a part of their little monster slayer group after the events of spring break, going as far as to drape himself across her all dramatically after being given homework in their shared math class.

“I do not like Eddie. I like girls, Robin. You know this.” She has had to hear him lament about failed dates several times. 

“You can like both Steve. Bowie does. And I know how you talk about someone you like. You get a smile you can't shake off and this sparkle in your eyes. And you have it right now. Talking about Eddie.” Steve hated that she was right. He couldn't stop smiling. 

“David Bowie likes women?” 

“Stop deflecting. It's called bisexual. Do we need to have a crisis together or are you okay with knowing you like men?” They have been together for many crises. They were together through the nightmares that came with the upside down too. Steve can admit a man is hot. He figured that out during his very homoerotic friendship with Tommy Hagan. Fuck, why did he think Eddie was hot?

“I think I'm okay with liking men. I've had to deal with real life monsters. Men are fine. But I don't like eddie. He’s weird. His music is loud. I get migraines. And he's so energetic. Not to mention his aura will make you fail a drug test.”

“Yet you ditched movie night the other day to go smoke up with him. And everyone in your life is weird. I’m in band. I do drama. All of your children play dnd. I'm sure he would turn his music down if it meant making you happy. I've seen the way he looks at you. He likes you too.”

“Can you stop being right for once. Why did I fall for him? Out of all guys, him? At least he’s better than the last guy I liked. Tommy, Carol, and I were closer than friends.”

“You liked Tommy? Tommy Hagan?”

“Yeah yeah laugh it up. But he was cute. He had a bunch of freckles. Can you blame a guy?”

“I can blame anyone who dares to like a man. They are gross.” Steve doesn't have a good argument against that so he grows a pillow at her face. It of course gets chucked back at him which causes a pillow war.

[rebelspykatie]

Robin convinces Steve that Eddie is interested in him, just based on how frequently he flirts with Steve. Uses the same logic that Steve deployed to convince her to give Vickie a shot. Except, there’s no doubt about who Eddie could be attracted to. He’s gay and doesn’t really flirt much with women, keeps it more surface level. 

But with Steve, he’s all over him, getting in his personal space, tapping his chin, batting his eyelashes and draping himself over his lap during movie nights. Steve’s confident in his newly discovered attraction to men, and subtly tries to turn up the charm on his end. Flirting back, giving as good as he gets, but it never seems to affect Eddie. 

Steve’s gotten used to striking out. Never really catching anyone’s attention these days, what with the lackluster attempts at being interested in the mundane things some of the girls drone on about, to being afraid to sleep over for fear of a nightmare tearing him from sleep, to the way no one makes his skin buzz. He’s given up the pursuit of anyone else, setting his sights on Eddie, pushing gently at the boundaries that barely exist between them. 

Until the first time Steve and Robin are invited to see Corroded Coffin perform at the Hideout. He watches from afar as Eddie bounces across the room before the show. He hasn’t spotted them yet as he makes his way over to the bar. There’s a cute, older guy bartending, probably in his late twenties, buzz cut hair, ripped leather vest accentuating his arms. 

Steve watches in what feels like slow motion as Eddie leans over the counter to get as close as possible to this guy. That mischievous smirk that Steve’s used to seeing pointed at him is out in full force. Eddie is saying something, looking up at this guy, reaching out to squeeze a bicep and getting playfully batted away. Eddie lets the guy tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, almost a caress along the side of Eddie’s face. 

And there’s a moment where Steve feels like he’s floating on air, suspended in a moment in time before a catastrophic shift changes his trajectory. He’s careening to the ground at break neck speed and crash landing all in a matter of seconds. A vice-like grip squeezes his heart, reminding him that he’s not special. He’s dissecting every memory of Eddie flirting, finding nothing consequential there in the wake of this discovery. 

How stupid could he have been to think that it meant anything? That must be why Eddie never reacted to his advances, they were just a blip on his radar. He’s got this guy wrapped around his finger, just like he’s had Steve. Except Eddie’s never blushed like that around him, or let Steve tuck his hair away. 

As much as he wants to turn around and get the hell out of here, he promised he’d come to Eddie’s show, even if looking at Eddie right now feels like a shot straight through his heart. That inexplicable draw to Eddie doesn’t just disappear. He wants to cross the room and drag him away from this guy, but what right does he have to do that? 

He feels Robin’s hand slip into his, turns to look at her, sees a mirror image of how she looked on the grimy bathroom floor of Starcourt, letting Steve down gently. Their friendship past the point of needing to verbally communicate anything. Robin gently tugs on his arm to convince him to sit at a table, clasping his hand underneath it tightly when Eddie finally spots them and Steve has to pretend like he’s fine. And he is fine. 

But he’s also not. His heart is cracking open with each note Eddie sings, the fault line growing until it feels like he’s split in two, bleeding out on the floor of this disgusting bar. When is he going to get it right? When is it his turn to feel wanted? Nancy and Robin hurt, but he feels blindsided by this one. He was so confident he was right, that this time it was reciprocated. 

But maybe he’ll always be the fool.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Hear Me Out, Keep Me Guessing

Steddie || wc: 2.5k || rating: T || tags: alternate first meeting, pre-S4, Eddie is a rollercoaster of emotions, Steve is over it, fluff and flirting || ao3

Inspired by my own post

☆☆☆

“Okay, Munson. What’s your fucking problem?”

Eddie hops on top of the wooden picnic bench to gain a slight height advantage over whoever’s decided to fuck up his day, when he spots none other than Steve Harrington headed towards him through the trees, fighting his way through brush and bramble.

“Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Crawling through the dirt just to visit his former court jester.” Eddie smirks, hears Harrington mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like jesus christ before he finally makes his way over.

Harrington’s looking up at him, squinting into the sunlight, and Eddie’s slightly repelled by his sudden desire to run a hand through King Steve’s hair. It shines in the sunlight, matching the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

Eddie takes a step to the left, casting him back into shadow again where he’s just his normal, asshole self and not the angelic image Eddie conjured from his horny, queer little brain.

He can’t remember if it’s his turn to talk or Harrington’s, but it seems the King’s lost the plot as well. Completely zoned out, he’s just standing there staring up at Eddie, mouth dropped open and eyes wide in a way Eddie will certainly not be thinking about later tonight. Absolutely not.

Eddie coughs. Loud and obnoxious enough to break whatever trance they’ve found themselves in. Harrington awkwardly chuckles, running a hand through his hair. An image of Steve leaning against lockers, towering over a girl with heat in his eyes and a hand in his hair floods Eddie’s brain before he can shake it out like an Etch A Sketch. What the fuck is even happening to him?

“Yeah, Munson. Like, what the hell is your problem?” It lacks punch and drama the second time around, but it gets them back on track. Harrington props his hands on his hips, his lip juts out into a tiny pout, and Eddie wonders if he thinks standing like a disappointed mom is effective in getting what he wants, or if being adorable just comes naturally to the former King.

“You’ll have to be more specific, my liege.” He watches as Harrington brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and he makes a mental note to develop a better, more refined taste in men.

“The kids, man. Why aren’t you friends with the kids?”

“Kids? What the hell– what kids?” He hops down from the table. If this is going to be a legitimate conversation and not a shake down, he figures it’ll be easier on even footing. Harrington takes the seat opposite him, his shoe accidentally knocking Eddie’s ankle.

Steve doesn’t move his foot. Neither does Eddie.

“My kids, man. They said they tried talking to you all week and you wouldn’t even hear them out!”

Eddie watches his fingers tap absently on the table top. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and it’s shocking that Eddie is just now realizing that Steve’s actually anxious. Normally Eddie considers himself better at reading people, when he’s not distracted with puffy, pink lips and a confusing line of conversation.

He looks down, rewinding the past week. He’d made it through his first week of his third senior year without anyone getting in his face. Maybe he’s old enough now that even asshole seniors like Jason Carver have decided to leave him alone. Thankfully it seems the offer also extends to Gareth, Kenny, and Jeff, who’ve only reported minor name calling and a light shove.

That’s where he spots them, stops the tape midway through lunch on Wednesday when a group of three freshmen approached the table. He’d spotted the curly-haired kid earlier in the week, bravely decked out in a Weird Al shirt and a hat from some science camp. The kid was enough of a freak to earn free admission to Hellfire, but the other two required a bit more thought.

Eddie clocked Little Wheeler through the station wagon window Monday morning when he’d cut Nancy off in the parking lot. The kid seemed alright, but with a priss like Nancy as a sister, it was a tough call. The other kid seemed a bit too sporty, and a little too interested in basketball tryouts.

When the three amigos started talking DnD, the guys invited them with open arms. It was a relatively peaceful lunch. Exciting even, at the prospect of adding new members to their campaign. They’d mentioned trying to convince a few of their friends to play. A girl named Max Mayfield, who turns out lives a few trailers down from Eddie.

But when the curly-haired kid mentioned Steve Harrington, the Hellfire boys clammed up tighter than nun’s ass. His named dripped from their mouths like it was covered in gold, the hero-worship rotting them from the inside and Eddie wouldn’t stand for it. No true freaks would stand to be friends with an asshole bully like King Steve.

Of course the freshies tried to argue, saying he’d changed. It didn’t matter to the Hellfire boys. Clearly the freshmen were corrupted, and they couldn’t be trusted. So he’d sent them on their way, and the three of them posted up in the corner of the lunchroom every day since. Far away from jocks and freaks alike.

Now, Eddie looks across the table and sees false bravado slathered over the anxiety etched into the former King’s face. He doesn’t know how three freshmen freaks found themselves under the wing of Steve Harrington, but it seems the feeling is mutual. Steve cares about these kids.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I remember them. What’s it to you, Harrington? Aren’t they a little too old for a babysitter.” The joke falls flat when Steve sighs, heavy and exhausted, like somehow a rich boy from the Loch carries the entire world on his shoulders.

But he plays it off, trying to meet Eddie’s quip halfway. “Babysitters get paid, dude. I do it from the goodness of my heart or some shit.” Steve leans back, scrubs his hands over his face like he can erase whatever’s behind his eyes.

Eddie stares at him, hoping to catch a glimpse. The only consolation is Steve puts his other foot on the opposite side of Eddie’s, his ankle now fully cradled between Steve’s.

“They’re nerds, man.” Harrington states it like it’s a fact and not an insult he’s hurled at Eddie a hundred times over the years. “They’re freaks, you know– like you.”

Moment officially broken, Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the table wondering why he ever entertained talking with Harrington in the first place. As he grabs his lunchbox off the forest floor, he hears shuffling behind him.

“Wait,” Harrington shouts. “Just, fuck man, can you just let me finish?”

“Finish what, exactly?” Eddie snaps, whirling around to crowd into his space. He wears big and scary like how the King wears his crown and how assassins wield their blades. With enough power and confidence to scare off any enemy. “Finish listening to you shit on the little guy? Listen to you harp on the freaks of the world, or how you corrupted your little pions?”

“What?” Steve asks, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched. Eddie’s not surprised his jock-rattled brain couldn’t find that word in its very limited dictionary, but what does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t back down. They’re practically nose to nose, so close Eddie can spot a small freckle on his lash-line, and Steve’s standing here like he doesn't have a care in the world while Eddie screams in his face.

It’s quiet again. He can hear the rustle of tall grass and birds overhead. He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and Eddie can’t remember what they were talking about. Again.

Steve grabs his shoulders, and in his daze, Eddie lets himself be maneuvered back to sitting at the picnic table, while Steve stands in front of him.

“Are you always big and loud and obnoxious? Can you just cut the shit for like, five minutes so we can have a normal fucking conversation. Jesus christ, you’re practically perfect for them.” The last part is quieter, seems more like an unfiltered afterthought.

“Ok,” Eddie says. If Steve’s willing to take the crown off long enough to talk with Eddie, then maybe he can shed his own metaphorical battle vest. “Say what you have to say, then.”

Steve clears his throat, shuffles slightly as he gains his footing. He looks at Eddie with a determined set to his shoulders.

“Henderson, Sinclair, and even Wheeler– they’re my kids. I’ve spent the last nine months watching out for those little shits because all they’re good at is getting into the worst kinds of trouble.” Eddie tracks him as Steve paces the forest floor, rambling and raking a hand through his hair like it helps him think. “But I remembered you didn’t graduate, right? And you run that Dungeons and Dragons club–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie interrupts. Steve stops, turns to face him, and shoots him the bitchiest glare Eddie’s ever seen, but before he can say anything, Eddie pushes on. “You, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, leader of meatheads and bimbos alike, know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”

Steve sighs, hands back on his hips as he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, Munson. Don’t worry it’s all against my will, okay? I’m not coming to steal your freaks and weirdos so I can lead them too.” He smirks, and it pulls a laugh out of Eddie, shocked that Steve’s willing to joke around with Eddie at all, let alone when it’s at his own expense.

“Now, quit interrupting me, you’re as bad as Henderson.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed, only to open his mouth to swallow the imaginary key. Butterflies explode in his chest at the sound of Steve laughter, and Eddie wonders if bashing his head into a tree would be a decent excuse to explain the red flush erupting on his face.

“Anyways,” Steve chuckles. “They’re smart as shit but don’t know when to give something up just to get out of a fight. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten their asses handed to them already, and everyday I pick them up all I'm thinking about is which one of them I’m gonna have to stitch up. Sure, some of the guys in the grade below were alright, like Andy. But guys like Hargrove, like Carver.” Eddie can practically see the dark cloud form over Steve’s brow.

He remembers as well as anyone the fallout of Harrington v Hargrove, Fall 1985. There’d been endless rumors about what happened, each one more ridiculous than the last. Now he’s left wondering if it’s not really about Nancy, or drugs, or Billy fucking Steve’s mom, but about these kids. The timing checks out, nine months on babysitting duties lines up pretty well with when Steve showed up to school beaten and broken.

Maybe Steve isn’t all he seems to be.

“Guys like Carver won’t mess with you. They’re too scared you’re using DnD to worship the devil and get kids into sodomy and drugs and shit like that. I told them that you’d be cool. That you’re big and loud, that you play DnD like them. You're smart and you read the same nerdy books. I told them they’d be safe with you, man.” Steve rubs his face again, until his hands fall to the sides and he tilts his head up towards the sky. “I just need to know someone’s looking out for them. Please, Eddie, just–”

“Okay.”

Steve’s attention snaps back to him, relief written plain as day in the wide set of his smile. “You’re serious?”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve smile so unguarded, and never aimed his way. The sheer brightness of it fills him with warmth he wants to wrap himself up in.

All on top of the fact Eddie's never gotten this many compliments from anyone before, let alone from a guy as gorgeous as Steve Harrington. His ears are practically on fire.

“Yeah, Harrington. I’ll share custody of your little nuggets.” Before he knows what’s coming, Steve sweeps him up into a hug, lifts him fully off the ground and can feel the tinkling of his laughter on the shell of his ear.

“Thanks, Munson. Damn, you have no idea how freaked out I’ve–”

“What about the other stuff?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking. He has to know, deep in his bones, that Steve is thinking this through. That Steve won’t change his mind in a few days or months and decide it’s time for Eddie Munson to eat dirt.

He lets Eddie go, but holds his shoulders at arms length to look him in the eye. Any lingering mirth has been replaced with intent curiosity. “What stuff, Munson?”

He can tell by Steve’s tone they’re both talking about the same thing. Rumors that’ve haunted Eddie since eighth grade after Davey Richardson beat him up under the bleachers. It didn’t matter that Davey kissed him first, all that mattered was he was popular and Eddie was weird.

He’d grown numb to the slurs over the years, but how could he forget hearing the reason why Byers beat the shit out of King Steve. The only surprise from that fight was it sounded like he never even tried to fight back.

“Harrington, if I don’t get to act loud and obnoxious, then you don’t get to play dumb.” The intensity of Steve’s stare reminds him of the few conversations he’d had with Chief Hopper before he’d died. The man could tear Eddie down to the bones with one glare, and he’s sure it’s the only reason the Chief brought him back to the trailer instead of a jail cell.

“Eddie,” Steve says, tone firm, “I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t care about the shit people say, especially self-righteous assholes like Carver. The only thing I give a shit about is you watching over the little gremlins and not selling them drugs, so I can breathe easier when I don't have eyes on them.”

Steve shakes him lightly, like it’ll sift this world-changing view into his brain, then pats his shoulder as he passes by him.

“Wait,” Eddie shouts, always a glutton for punishment. He spins around to catch Steve walking backwards away from him, hands in his pockets, effortlessly cool. The sun’s catching his hair again and there’s a smirk on his lips. “You really don’t care?”

Steve laughs, taking a step back. He chews on his bottom lip, and he smiles when he catches Eddie looking. Because he knows. Steve knows now, before Jeff or Wayne or anyone else.

“Eddie, whoever you decide to love or fuck– or not– is none of my business.” He turns to leave, and as Eddie relaxes he hears Steve call out, “unless you want it to be.”

Steve’s light laughter follows him out of the woods, and Eddie plops himself down in the same spot on the same wooden bench in the exact same forest as he always does every Friday after school. Except a twenty minute conversation with Steve Harrington leaves Eddie feeling like his world's been turned upside down.

Maybe ‘86 will be his year, after all.

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath) Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak) She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show) She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"

A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.

ENJOY!

Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)

ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.

Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)

“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”

“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”

“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”

“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”

“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”

You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running. 

You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term. 

Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.

These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.

When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”

(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”

(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “

(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”

(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.

(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”

(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours. 

(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”

(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”

(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions. 

(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”

(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”

(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”

(9:01pm) “Or what?”

…

(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”

(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”

(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”

(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”

(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”

(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”

(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”

(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”

(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”

(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”

(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”

(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”

(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”

(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”

(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”

(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”

(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”

(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”

(9:46pm) “*Daddies”

(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”

(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”

As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!

Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.

############

That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him. 

When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours. 

As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.

(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”

(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”

(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”

(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”

(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”

(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”

(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”

(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”

(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”

(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”

(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”

(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”

(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”

(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.

Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers. 

“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”

You smiled as you turned on your microphone. 

“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”

“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”

The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less. 

“No.”

“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.

“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”

“Or are totally naked.”

“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”

“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”

“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”

“Again fair.”

“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”

“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”

“I’m the rockstar.”

Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…

“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone. 

“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”

Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.

“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”

“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.

“I like that sassy attitude.”

“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”

“Most men can’t.”

“Most men aren’t us.”

“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together. 

“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”

Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view. 

“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”

“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”

You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.

“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast. 

“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”

Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.

“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”

“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”

“Fuck…yes.”

“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”

“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”

“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”

Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high. 

“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”

“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”

“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.

“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”

The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar. 

“Again…we aren’t most men.”

“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”

Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile. 

“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”

“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”

“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”

You listen as they heavily sigh.

“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”

After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything. 

As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen. 

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!

Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep. 

##############

(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”

(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”

(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”

(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”

(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”

(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”

(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”

(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”

(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”

(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”

(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date. 

(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me. 

(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.

(6:36pm) “Needed.”

(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”

(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”

This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!

***

(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!

(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.

(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”

(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”

(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”

(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”

(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”

(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!

“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”

When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand. 

“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”

You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist. 

“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

***

“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”

You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer. 

“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”

“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”

“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”

You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge. 

Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress. 

Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath. 

“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in. 

We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”

Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress. 

The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place. 

“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed. 

Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you. 

“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”

Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.

“Yeah…who-who is this?”

“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”

“Were you two not together?”

You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.

“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”

“Better, thank you.”

He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.

“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”

Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room. 

“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.

“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”

You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”

You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm. 

“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”

“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”

Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off. 

You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.

“What are you sorry for, honey?”

“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”

Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.

“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.

“Because he’s a fucker.”

“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his. 

“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”

Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears. 

“God, I love your attitude.”

“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”

“Not what we’re looking for.”

Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet. 

“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”

You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost. 

“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.

“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be. 

A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.

“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”

“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”

“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”

Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.

The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin. 

“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”

You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.

Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction. 

“Please.”

“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”

“Yes, Daddy, please.”

His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core. 

“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”

“Can…Can I have you both?”

“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want. 

“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”

“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”

You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you. 

“Oh…my…”

“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”

Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum. 

“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”

They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”

His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies. 

“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”

“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan. 

“Take your time, honey. I got you.”

As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair. 

“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”

“How does she feel, man?”

“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”

When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.

“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him. 

Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.

“Are you ready, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”

Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.

“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”

Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them. 

“Oh my God. Yes!”

“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs. 

Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin. 

“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”

Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.

“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”

Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.

“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body. 

“Are you both going to stay?”

Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head. 

“Do you want us to?”

“I promise I won’t look.”

Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep. 

#################

When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home. 

You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break. 

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side. 

“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”

“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”

“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”

“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle. 

“Holy shit!”

“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”

“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”

Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar. 

Rockstar…

Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.

That voice. I knew that voice.

“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.

“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”

Mogul…

“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins. 

As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.

[steddieas-shegoes]

uh oh, feelings

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event 'it's complicated'

rated e, 18+, minors dni | 4,512 words | cw: open ending, steve/gareth sex | tags: established steddie, NOT cheating they're all super cool and fine with this, eddie watches, virgin gareth, first time, bottom steve, top gareth, blowjob, anal fingering, anal sex, left open on purpose because i'm insane and might continue it

also on ao3

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“Dude. You’re making me sad.”

Gareth groans. “I don’t care. I feel pitiful.”

“That’s ‘cause you are,” Eddie pushes his shoulder. It’s playful, but there’s a hint of actual annoyance in it and Gareth doesn’t want that. “There’s, like, a whole crowd of women out there who would fuck you if you asked.”

“I don’t want the whole crowd of women. I want one woman, maybe two.”

“You’re not going from zero to two. So knock down your expectations a little,” Eddie starts. “Also, just throwing this out as an option: plenty of men would be interested in you, too.”

“Yeah? Like who?” Gareth scoffs.

It’s not that he hasn’t thought about it. He has. Plenty of times. More often than he’d ever admit to anyone, especially Eddie.

“I dunno. Steve?”

Gareth blinks once, twice.

“Steve who?” He only knows one Steve and that Steve is very taken by the man hounding him about his virginity right now.

Eddie throws the pillow he’s holding at Gareth. “My boyfriend, Steve! ‘Steve who?’ Fuck, dude, how many Steves do you know?”

“I dunno! Sorry for not assuming you want me to sleep with the love of your life I guess!”

“Everyone wants to sleep with Steve,” Eddie shrugs as if he’s cool with everyone wanting to sleep with Steve.

“Not everyone,” Gareth insists, but he’s not actually sure. Steve is the hottest guy they know. “I don’t think.”

“But you do.”

Gareth stays silent. This feels like a trap. He doesn’t think Eddie would get pissed or anything if he admits it, but he doesn’t want Steve to find out.

“It’s okay if you do. Steve would totally fuck you.”

Gareth’s mouth drops open. “He would not.”

“He would,” Eddie nods. He’s smirking like he’s teasing, but Gareth thinks he’s actually being very serious right now. “Ask him.”

“I’m not gonna ask your boyfriend if he’d fuck me!”

“Don’t ask him outright!” Eddie throws his arms up. “Jesus, no wonder you’re a virgin. Flirt with him, see if he flirts back.”

“Is this some kinda fucked up friendship test?” Gareth stands and starts pacing. Steve will be on the bus any minute and there’s no way he should hear any of this conversation. He’ll cut off Gareth’s balls for even suggesting he cheat on Eddie. He’ll hang them out the tour bus window while Gareth dies on the floor and post an ad for a drummer at their next stop. “Or are you testing Steve? I’m not gonna be a part of that, man. Steve loves you and I’m not getting in the way-“

“Dude. It’s not a test. Get it out of your system and then maybe you can focus on something other than your miserable state of existence,” Eddie walks to his bunk and Gareth is reminded immediately that they’re all sleeping on the bus tonight. Eddie’s plan isn’t gonna work.

“It can’t be tonight,” Gareth is surprised at his own words, shocked that he’s apparently entertaining the idea of fucking Steve. Getting fucked by Steve? “Is Steve a top or bottom?”

Eddie laughs loud enough to make Gareth flinch.

“You’ll find out soon.”

~~~

Soon is two days later, when they finally have a two day break so they can stay in a hotel. None of them stray far, always choosing to be in adjoining rooms and getting room service instead of trying to go out. It’s just easier; no worrying about being seen by fans or trying to book enough security for them to stay safe.

Goodie and Jeff are in the hot tub downstairs, probably trying to pick up chicks, so naturally Gareth is sitting in Eddie and Steve’s bed while they finish their dinner. He’s not worried about being a third wheel, especially not since Eddie told him that Steve would fuck him. He’s still not sure he would.

“Steve, you’ve taken most of Hawkins’ virginity, right?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, huffs a ‘smooth’ under his breath. Steve doesn’t even flinch. He finishes chewing, swallows, and sits back in the rolling chair he insisted on staying in while he ate.

“I wouldn’t say most. A good chunk,” Steve smirks. “Why? Trying to take someone’s virginity?”

“Yeah. Mine.”

Gareth slaps his hand over his own mouth. He feels absurd. He feels like he might puke. He thinks his heart is trying to escape his body via his throat or maybe his ass. He’s unsure if gravity is involved at all, actually.

“You’re a virgin?” Steve chokes on nothing. “Eddie, you didn’t tell me he’s a virgin.”

“I didn’t know you needed to know this about my best friend,” Eddie laughs, ignores the way Gareth is watching them with wide eyes.

“I can’t believe I couldn’t tell,” Steve is shaking his head, looking more disappointed with himself by the second. Gareth isn’t sure what to make of it. He thinks he’s supposed to feel ashamed, but he doesn’t. Not yet. “I can spot them from a mile away.”

Eddie snorts, but doesn’t comment. He’s stuffing his face with his dinner, and Steve’s eyes are focusing on Gareth in a way he isn’t familiar with from anyone, let alone…Steve.

“Uh…how exactly do you know from looking at someone?” Gareth dares to ask.

“Oh, it’s easy. I can’t tell you, but you might figure it out soon,” Steve answers, shoving another bite into his mouth and then standing up.

“How will I figure it out?”

“Because you won’t be a virgin anymore.”

“O…kay?”

There’s no way it’s this easy, right? There’s no way Steve is offering to fuck him and there’s no way Eddie’s just��okay with it.

“Eddie, what’s your color on this?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks between them for a moment. “Green,” Eddie smirks. “But I’m watching.”

“Watching what?” Gareth knows what. He can’t believe it’s happening, but he knows.

“You cool with fucking me? Or do you prefer me fucking you? I’m good either way.”

Straight to business it seems. Gareth is chubbing up a little already. What the fuck is going on?

“Yeah, uh.” Gareth swallows around his nerves. He performs in front of thousands of people every night. He can fuck Steve Harrington. “Yeah, I can fuck you. That’s good. Cool.”

Steve raises a brow, looks to Eddie, then back to Gareth. “Is it because he’s gonna watch?”

Gareth shakes his head. He’s fine with that part. Honestly, it might help keep him from throwing up if Eddie’s there. Eddie’s seen him in every state of undress, and every emotion, and he trusts him more than anyone else.

“Is it because it’s me?” Steve steps closer. Gareth’s asshole tightens. It happens when he’s nervous, okay? It’s like fight or flight, except no matter what he chooses, nothing’s getting in his asshole or out of it.

“I mean, it’s not not because it’s you. I’d be nervous about anyone. I guess it’s just…like you do realize that you’re with Eddie, right?”

Eddie and Steve both laugh and it makes Gareth feel dumb.

“Yeah, I do. I love him a hell of a lot,” Steve finally says. “And he loves me a lot. And we both love you and want you to stop moping.”

“You’re not in love with me though?” Gareth has to clarify. He loves Eddie, and he loves Steve, but not like that.

“No, dude,” Eddie exclaims. “Neither of us wanna make you a third. You just need to get over this thing in your head that losing your virginity is the end all be all of your life or something. I can’t stand the face you make anymore. Steve’s sick of me complaining. We love you in the way where if we have to see that face anymore, we’ll bury your body on the interstate so.”

“Right. Okay.” Gareth nods because that makes sense. It’s hard to figure out how this is gonna work later on, after he’s seen Steve like this, after Eddie’s seen him like this. “So, we’re doing this.”

Steve doesn’t answer with words. He gets close enough to pull Gareth into him, kisses the corner of his mouth as a test.

It’s a little weird, but that’s because he was under the impression they wouldn’t kiss. He assumed this was a get in, get out situation. Get the job done and move on. He didn’t expect it to be soft.

“C’mon,” Steve whispers as he pulls back, smiling encouragingly at him. He takes his hand and leads him to the bed. “You know how to get me ready?”

Gareth nods. He’s messed around with himself plenty of times to know what to do, what feels good, what’s too much. He doesn’t know what Steve likes, but he can figure it out as he goes.

Steve takes his shirt off. Eddie groans.

“You look so good,” he groans. “I wanna touch you, too.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Not now. Let Gare have this, baby.”

“He can…he can touch you. If you want,” Gareth says. “I dunno if I want him to touch me, though.”

Eddie’s hand goes to his chest dramatically. “No? My nimble fingers aren’t good enough? Fine!” He smirks. “I’m good just watching. This is for you. I get to touch him all the time.”

Steve is slipping his pants off quietly, letting them have this moment.

“Normally, I’d make you take my clothes off, but I think you know how to do that,” Steve teases. “Unless you’re unfamiliar with this model of jeans.”

“Levi’s?” Gareth takes his own shirt off. “Half my closet is thrifted Levi’s, dude.”

And then they’re both standing in just their underwear. Gareth’s in boxers that he doesn’t remember washing in his last round of laundry, and Steve’s standing there in the tightest gray underwear Gareth’s ever seen, already half-hard.

His dick is huge. Like, way bigger than Gareth’s, maybe also Eddie’s. He’d need to see them both at once to compare, but-

“We’re gonna use colors, even though it’s not a scene, okay? Just so you’re comfortable. Red is stop, yellow is pause, green is good. Use them anytime. If Eddie sees something I miss, he’ll ask you randomly, okay?” Steve pulls his underwear off.

He’s just…naked. Comfortably standing in front of Gareth with his dick out and leaning to the left, getting harder the more Gareth watches him. Who knew Steve was into being watched?

Gareth drops his boxers and he is fully hard. Achingly so. His dick pulses when Steve’s eyes drop down to get a look. Steve’s lips curl up into a smile.

He walks up to him, drops to his knees, and gets his hand around the base. Gareth’s breath catches.

Steve licks a stripe up his dick, sucking the head into his mouth before he takes him all the way down.

“Jesus,” Gareth moans. He’s got pretty good stamina when it’s just him. His dick is sensitive, but he knows how to edge himself. He kinda likes doing it on nights when they’ve got a hotel. He can shove his face into the pillow and get himself close four, five, six times before he shakes apart. He doesn’t know if he can hold back with his dick leaking down Steve’s throat. “Do you not have a gag reflex? Fuck.”

Steve smiles around him somehow, and Eddie is trying hard not to make noise, but Gareth can hear him huffing a laugh against his hand.

Steve pops off for a moment, looks up at him with a grin. “You can touch me.”

Right. His hands immediately go to Steve’s hair, threading through the locks and pulling him in again. He’s under no impression that he’s in control here. He’s just gonna try to keep both hands on the steering wheel while Steve hits the gas pedal.

His fingers tighten when Steve’s tongue swirls around his tip. Steve moans. The vibrations are enough to make Gareth’s legs feel weak.

“Shit. Bed, bed, bed,” he’s saying as he tugs Steve off of him and to his feet. He crushes his lips to Steve’s, any lingering doubt in his mind that this was gonna ruin their friendship long gone. He’s gonna fuck Steve and make him feel good, and Steve’s gonna return the favor, and then he’s gonna keep annoying Steve for the rest of time.

He could throw Steve on the bed, but Steve’s faster. He pushes Gareth down on his back, straddles his hips, and pushes his hands above his head.

Shit, that’s hot.

“How am I gonna get you ready if you have my hands way up there?” Gareth is nothing if not a little shit.

But Steve is also a little shit.

“You’ll figure it out,” Steve’s ass is brushing against his dick and he’s trying not to think about how it will feel inside him. But the more he thinks about not thinking about it, the more he realizes he’s gonna be inside Steve very soon. His restraint is flying out the window and up the street.

He feels Eddie’s eyes on them, but he’s decidedly not thinking about what he might be doing. If it were him in Eddie’s shoes, he’d be jacking it relentlessly.

Gareth is pretty strong. Like, he plays drums every day. Got used to lugging equipment around before they had people who did that for them. Started lifting weights occasionally when no one was watching. He likes being strong, he likes the way his muscles ripple when he’s beating the hell out of his snares and cymbals, angry but beaming from ear to ear.

He likes the way Steve moans when he throws him off of him, switching their positions in less than two seconds.

He doesn’t feel the need to say anything. Steve’s blushing, a pretty pink color across his face and neck, and his lips are swollen from sucking his dick and biting his own lips. Seeing Steve like this is life-changing.

It’s not a falling in love moment, but it’s a moment where he can see why Eddie did.

There’s always a certain charm floating around Steve, and it shifts now, while he’s under Gareth. It’s brighter, damn near blinding. Steve’s glittering gold, intensely blazing as Gareth’s hands run down his chest and sides. He adjusts so he’s sitting between Steve’s legs, pushing them back.

He hears Eddie groan from a few feet away. He’s ignoring it.

“You guys have lube?” Gareth asks.

Eddie throws a bottle on the bed.

“Thanks.”

Stupid of him to assume they went anywhere without some. They fucked like rabbits. He’s pretty sure if Steve could get pregnant, he would have had at least two accidental babies by now.

Gareth stares at the bottle in his hand.

“Still green?” Steve asks quietly.

“Yeah, sorry.” Gareth opens the bottle and uses entirely too much. It’s a different brand than he uses, and he’s nervous, and he can feel two sets of eyes watching his every breath and it’s- “Yellow.”

Steve sits up and takes the bottle from him. He hears Eddie step closer for a moment, as if he’s gonna try to fix it even though he isn’t technically involved in any of this.

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, soft, careful. Unlike any way he ever talks to Gareth.

He kinda hates it. He likes when Steve’s a bitchy know-it-all to him. He likes when Steve gets frustrated at the way he pretends to be dumber than he is about band stuff.

“I just need a minute, I think,” Gareth admits. “This is a lot.”

“Okay,” Steve waves Eddie off and places both hands on Gareth’s face. It’s intimate. It blocks the outside world from view. It feels like it’s just them right now. “It won’t hurt my feelings if you wanna stop. It’s not me, it’s you.”

Gareth snorts. There’s the bitchy Steve he’s always loved.

“I don’t wanna stop. I just realized I’m fucking my best friend’s boyfriend while he watches and it’s taking me a second to wrap my head around that being a normal thing,” Gareth explains. He’s ignoring the way Steve’s dick is rubbing against his. He said yellow, so they have to stay paused until he’s mentally good to go. He knows that much.

“Should Eddie not watch?” Steve asks. As if Eddie would allow Gareth to fuck Steve without being there.

“No, that’s-” Gareth sighs. “I don’t care if he watches. It’s just a lot.”

“Yeah. You’re doing good, though.”

The praise sinks deep into his skin, courses through his veins. He isn’t able to hold back a whine. Holy shit, where did that even come from?

Steve looks thrilled.

“Oh. Well, this is interesting,” Steve says around a smile. “Didn’t think it would go like this.”

“Like what?”

Gareth feels unmoored. Something’s shifted. The entire room feels darker, heavier.

“Stevie, be nice,” Eddie says from a chair. Gareth didn’t even know there was a chair in the corner.

“I am being nice,” Steve doesn’t look away from Gareth. “This is just shocking information and I’m taking it in. Learning. Growing.”

“What information?”

“We won’t do anything with it tonight. But we’ll talk about it after. You gotta stay safe if you decide to try anything with someone and I won’t let someone hurt you.”

“Try what?”

“Later,” Steve pats his cheek and lays back again. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m right here. Take your time, honey.”

The name feels like honey, dripping between them and making them sticky. Gareth wants to lick the word from Steve’s mouth.

Gareth watches as Steve puts his hand on his own dick, lazily stroking to keep himself hard. He can’t look away. A bead of precum falls, drips down his length until his thumb swipes it up, rubs it into his skin.

He licks his lips.

His fingers ghost over Steve’s hole.

“Good?” Steve asks, breathless.

“Green,” Gareth answers as he slides a lubed-up finger into him.

He’s tight, but there’s really no resistance. Steve’s relaxed. Gareth’s relaxed.

Steve rocks back into his touch, eyes glassy as he silently begs for more. It’s easy to read him when he’s like this, wanting more, being greedy in ways no one else ever sees. Steve’s a giver, the least selfish person of all of them, but not now. Now he wants.

Now Gareth is gonna give.

He’s three fingers deep when he manages to find Steve’s prostate. It’s easier on himself, he realizes. He’s spent years figuring out what makes himself tick. He has to watch every rise of Steve’s chest, every twitch of his brow, every bite of his lip. This is finding what makes someone– Steve– feel good, and doing it so they find pleasure.

Gareth sees why they fuck like rabbits.

Steve’s back arches off the bed as he flicks his fingers just right, rubs until he’s sure Steve’s gonna squirm right off the bed. Eddie’s barely even a thought in his mind right now, but he can feel his gaze. He’s making sure Steve’s taken care of, and he’s making sure Gareth doesn’t need to back out. He’s taking care of them in the only way he knows how.

He wants to hand over the reins. Steve’s taking what he’s giving, but he wants him to take more.

He doesn’t know how to verbalize that without sounding desperate.

But something switches between them and Steve seems to just know.

He’s an intuitive guy.

Steve sits up, waits for Gareth to remove his fingers. He pushes Gareth back on the bed, so his head is resting at where the sheets have gathered at the foot.

He straddles him again, throws his hands up above his head again, smirks again.

“Condom?” Steve asks.

Gareth knows from his mom, from health class, from Eddie, from Steve he should say yes. If this were a stranger, he’d say yes.

But this is Steve, who insists on everyone getting tested every three months like clockwork, who has only slept with Eddie for the last six years, who would never even ask if he was at all concerned about their safety. He’s letting Gareth make the call on something that’s normally important. It’s not a test, it’s just Steve letting him have control.

“Can we do it without?” Gareth’s voice is barely more than a whisper. He’s shy. Why the fuck does he feel shy?

Steve nods, soft smile taking over.

“But never do it without with anyone else unless you’re in a committed relationship and both clean,” Eddie says from the chair, ever the mother hen.

“Yes, dad,” Gareth rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me dad while you’re fucking my boyfriend,” Eddie says.

“I’m not fucking him yet,” Gareth’s words end in a whine as Steve slides down on his dick. He’s so fucking tight, Jesus Christ on the fucking cross. “Holy shit. Is it this tight all the time?”

Steve breathes out, halfway laughs, halfway trying to not whimper.

“Eddie usually does four fingers first,” Steve says. It doesn’t even feel weird to hear him talk about what Eddie normally does.

“Should I have done four?”

“No, honey. Three is good,” Steve leans down to kiss him.

Gareth’s stomach flutters.

He’s inside Steve. His dick is in Steve’s ass.

Steve lifts his body up, falls back down. He holds onto Gareth’s chest, thumbs at his nipples, finds a rhythm.

He knows Steve is athletic, has always been that way and probably always will be that way. He’s got endurance that no one can match, probably not even Eddie. He’s stronger than Gareth by a mile, and it shows when his thigh muscles tighten and relax as he rides Gareth into the mattress.

His pace picks up. Gareth’s hands hold onto his hips, but he’s not really doing anything. He’s just along for the ride.

What a ride it’s been.

“Fuck, yes, there,” Steve gasps suddenly. His legs start shaking. Eddie makes the most high-pitched whine Gareth’s ever heard. It’s a lot all at once and his brain is dumbed down to processing how good he feels and nothing else. “Fuck me, honey. Harder.”

It’s ridiculous how easily he goes along with Steve’s demands now. Normally, he fights him on everything just to be annoying.

But Steve wants him to go harder and he wants what Steve wants.

His grip tightens against Gareth’s hips and he plants his feet against the bed for leverage. If Steve’s wants to get fucked harder, then Steve’s gonna get fucked harder.

“Shit, yes, feels so good,” Steve pants.

Gareth doesn’t know if he’s always like this or if he’s playing it up a little to make him feel more confident for whoever he fucks next. Either way, Steve’s making this a hell of a fun time.

“Is it good for you, honey?” Steve asks.

How he remembers to ask is beyond him. Gareth can’t do anything but nod and moan. He feels sweat beading along his forehead and neck. He doesn’t do this much work unless he’s on stage.

“Tell me how good it is.”

Gareth whimpers. He didn’t even realize he could make that noise.

“So good. So tight, Steve, shit,” Gareth is moving faster now, and he’s really not sure how it could feel good for Steve at this point, but Steve’s eyes roll back in his head and he comes all over them.

He’s impossibly tighter through his orgasm and it brings Gareth to his own peak. He’s shaking through it, not even sure what he’s saying. His hips stutter and stop and he’s filling Steve up with his cum. It’s already dripping back down his own dick, making a mess on the hotel bed.

Steve is brushing his hair out of his face, kissing his jaw, whispering about how good he did. It’s helping and also making it harder to keep this from getting complicated.

No one warned him about the attachment. He figured it would be fine, he could get off with Steve and then they could pretend it didn’t happen or joke about it. He’s crashing from a high he’s never experienced and he’s realizing how stupid he was to think he could ever look at Steve the same.

“Shit, Eddie, come here,” he hears Steve say, but he doesn’t really feel anything anymore. He knows he’s not inside Steve anymore, which kinda sucks. He likes the warmth, might already be a little addicted to it. “It’s okay, Gare. We’ve got you.”

Strong arms wrap around him, familiar in the way they don’t hesitate to pull him close. Eddie’s always been a cuddler, and he’s always known how to hold Gareth when his head’s too loud. Right now his head is silent, but his arms provide the same comfort.

A warm washcloth is on him and he blinks his eyes open to see Steve cleaning him up. Eddie’s behind him, holding him against his chest. He’s fully dressed and Gareth is not.

But he just fucked his boyfriend in front of him, so he guesses this is probably fine.

Eddie’s humming something. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’s still feeling a little out of it.

“Hey, honey,” Steve is next to him now, his hand on his chest. “You with us yet?”

“Mmm,” is all he can reply with.

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

A few minutes pass. He feels less like he’s having a crisis about feelings for Steve and more like he just got fucked within an inch of his life.

It’s a good change.

“Hey,” he says.

Eddie’s arms tighten around him. Steve smiles.

“Hey, bud,” Steve says, and it makes Gareth laugh.

“What happened to honey?” He jokes. But he did kinda like it. More than he probably should.

Steve gently smacks his chest. “I was making you feel special, jackass.”

Gareth sighs. “I know. I did.”

Steve has his underwear back on, but nothing else. Gareth can feel his thigh brushing against his. He’s a hairy son of a bitch.

“Was it good?” Steve asks.

“It was great. Thank you for doing that for me,” Gareth hates how his voice sounds now, a little broken, scared.

“You don’t have to thank me, Gare,” Steve says, careful and calm. “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to.”

“It’s true. Steve’s a stubborn bitch,” Eddie butts in. “Can’t get him to do anything he doesn’t wanna do.”

Gareth giggles, ducking his head down. He still feels a little delirious, maybe a little too sleepy for this conversation.

“You wanna stay with us tonight?” Eddie continues.

“Can I?”

“‘Course you can, bud. Need me to get you anything?”

Gareth shakes his head. He just needs sleep. Maybe in the morning, once he’s separated from this a little, he’ll have some coffee and a bagel and he’ll get over this feeling in his chest that’s trying to override the adrenaline of finally having sex.

He doesn’t know what to make of it right now.

But one thing his mom always says is to sleep on hard feelings. If it’s important, it’ll be there in the morning, and it might make more sense.

He sure hopes so.

[bigheadbrooke-9]

₊˚Scared of beautiful₊˚

Eddie Munson x afab!plus size!reader

Summary: You and Eddie had been inseparable for years, your bond rooted in friendship but your feelings growing into something far deeper. You loved him—not platonically, but wholly, in the quiet, aching way that words often failed to capture. Though you were confident in your appearance, a lingering doubt always whispered that you might never be enough for someone like him. Eddie, charismatic and always teasing, often flirted in passing, but you dismissed it as harmless humor. When he invited you to watch him perform with his band at a local bar, you agreed, heart full of hope but unsure if he’d ever truly see you the way you saw him. He did love you. He even made a song for you.

A/n : oh hey everyone mb for being gone 😭, this is based off unreleased frank this song reminds me of Eddie lowkey sounds like him to ENJOY!

Warning: Mentions of body image, crying, romantic fluff, persistent creeps, and pet names (mama, sweetheart). Use of y/n .Read with care.

“Please? I want you to be there. I’ve got a big surprise for you,” Eddie pleaded, grabbing my hands with both of his, practically on his knees in front of me. His wide, hopeful eyes searched mine, and I could tell this meant a lot to him.

He was begging me—literally begging me—to come to his band’s performance at a local bar. The way his voice softened, just slightly, made my heart ache. He was excited, maybe even nervous, and the fact that he wanted me there, specifically me, was both flattering and frustrating.

I sighed, settling onto the edge of his bed. “Eddie, I don’t know…” I trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. “I really hate that bar. It’s full of creeps.”

And it was. Every time I’d gone in the past, I’d left feeling uncomfortable—stale beer, smoke in the air, and the kinds of men who stared too long and didn’t take hints. I wanted to be there for Eddie, I really did, but the idea of walking into that place again made my skin crawl.

He groaned and smacked his lips, dramatically letting go of my hands and slapping his palms down on his thighs in defeat. “Steve and Robin are going to be there with you,” he said, his voice quickly turning sweet, persuasive, familiar. “Please? Just one hour. That’s all I’m asking. One hour, mama—I promise.”

There it was. That nickname. Mama.

He always used it when he was trying to charm me, and it worked more often than I cared to admit. It made me feel special, seen, even if I told myself not to fall for it every time.

I sighed again, this time rubbing my thighs anxiously, weighing the situation. “Promise?” I asked softly, glancing up at him.

The second the word left my mouth, his entire expression lit up. He nodded quickly, practically bouncing with excitement, and I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me.

“Fine, Eddie. But if it’s boring or if anyone even looks at me weird, I’m leaving. I support you, but that bar seriously irks me.” I gave him a gentle shove, trying to stand before he got too thrilled and started making wild plans.

“You won’t regret it!” he said, grinning from ear to ear as he bolted out of the room, clearly too thrilled to contain himself.

I laughed to myself, letting the door swing shut behind him. Then, with a soft sigh, I flopped forward onto the bed, lying flat on my stomach. I buried my face in the pillow, cheeks warm with a blush I didn’t want to admit was there.

Eddie always had a way of getting to me. And I was starting to wonder if that “big surprise” was more than just a song.

⸻

“Sweetheart, you made it—I knew you would come,” Eddie called out the moment he spotted me, his face lighting up with the kind of grin that could make you forget the world was ever cruel. His excitement was contagious, and I couldn’t help but smile back as he closed the distance between us. But then, his gaze dipped to take in my outfit, his eyebrows rising ever so slightly.

If I was going to step foot into a bar I didn’t even like, I figured I might as well look good doing it. Besides, I had other plans after this—to meet up with a few friends at a different spot across town—so I had dressed accordingly.

His eyes sparkled as he looked me over, a mischievous glint forming in his expression. “You look stunning, Y/N. You’re gonna distract me while I’m on stage,” he said, tugging me gently into a hug.

He smelled like leather and cigarette smoke, something uniquely Eddie. His long hair was tied back into a messy half-bun, a few dark strands falling into his face. He wore a cut-up Iron Maiden T-shirt that exposed just enough of his tattooed chest, layered with more jewelry than usual—even the worn-out, colorful beaded bracelet I gave him back in fifth grade. Purple and pink, still holding on after all these years. He looked incredible—so much so that, despite myself, I started to think maybe I could handle staying here a bit longer than planned.

Over his shoulder, I noticed Steve and Robin already seated at one of the far tables to the left of the stage, engaged in their usual animated conversation. I gently pulled back from the hug, nodding toward them.

Eddie caught the glance and smiled. “We’re setting up now—just playing three songs tonight,” he said, placing a hand at the small of my back as he guided me through the increasingly crowded bar.

The place reeked of cheap cologne, stale beer, and bad decisions. Creeps leered from shadowed corners, and half-drunk regulars loitered near the edge of the dance floor. Eddie’s hand stayed steady at my back, but I could feel it slowly sliding downward with a familiar boldness.

“Edward Munson, you’re a pervert,” I said, slapping his arm lightly with a laugh.

He only smirked in response, chuckling as he rubbed the spot. “Guilty,” he replied, then launched into a quick rundown of how much they were getting paid for the night—$2,500 for two hours. My eyes widened at the figure. That was incredible, especially for Eddie. After years of struggle and countless unpaid gigs, his band was finally getting noticed, and it was starting to pay off.

“I go on in ten,” he said, digging into his back pocket and pulling out two crisp twenties. He pressed them into my hand with a wink.

“Get some drinks. Whatever you want. You’re in for a treat tonight.”

With that, he grinned and darted backstage, his excitement practically vibrating off of him.

I giggled, pocketing the cash and making my way to the bar. Leaning forward against the counter, I scanned the drink menu tacked to the wall behind the bartender. It was the usual selection of cheap beers, sugary cocktails, and canned mixers. I figured I’d try something strong but sweet—just enough to loosen the tension in my shoulders.

“What can I get for you, sweetheart?” the bartender asked, not even looking up at first as he finished pouring a beer for the man next to me. He had a toothpick in his mouth and a smirk like he’d used that line a hundred times before.

“Could I get a Long Island iced tea, a large beer, and a BuzzBall, please?” I asked politely, sliding a twenty across the counter.

He finally looked up at me then, eyes lingering a bit too long on my face before flicking down briefly—too briefly.

“No need, pretty girl,” he said, grinning as he slid the huge cup toward me. The drink was topped with a lemon slice, condensation already beading on the plastic. “On the house.”

I offered a tight smile in response, thanking him before turning away quickly. I wasn’t here for that kind of attention.

Tonight was about Eddie. And something told me… whatever that “surprise” was, it was going to change everything.

⸻

The room dimmed, and a faint screech of feedback rang through the speakers before the emcee’s voice crackled to life.

“Next on the stage—Corroded Coffin! Lead singer and guitarist Eddie Munson—welcome them to the stage!”

A round of claps and hoots rose through the crowd as the spotlight beamed down onto the small, elevated platform. I leaned forward slightly in my chair, eyes fixed on the stage as Jeff, Gareth, and Grant stepped out under the blinding light. They looked good—slightly stiff, maybe a little nervous—but confident in their own way.

Then, Eddie walked out.

There was a shift in the room the moment he appeared—his presence alone demanded attention. He didn’t look nervous. If anything, he looked calm. Comfortable. Like this was exactly where he belonged. His fingers gripped the neck of his guitar, and his signature smirk curled at the corners of his lips. The air buzzed with anticipation.

He stepped up to the mic and tapped it once. “Alright,” he said, voice casual, but his eyes scanning the crowd with intention. “We’re only doing three songs tonight, so I’m gonna keep it quick.”

Then he paused, looking straight into the audience—straight at me.

“But one of these songs is… kind of special. It’s dedicated to my best friend, Y/N. I love you, sweetheart.”

The spotlight suddenly shifted, blinding me. For a second, I couldn’t see anything—I just sat frozen, squinting as a mix of clapping and whistles filled the space. My heart thudded so loudly in my chest I was sure someone could hear it.

He made a song… about me?

When my vision adjusted, I could see Eddie chuckling at my reaction, his hand resting on the body of his guitar. From the corner of my eye, I caught Robin shooting me a wide-eyed look from her seat beside Steve. I couldn’t read her expression—was it shock? Curiosity? I didn’t know.

The lights shifted again, this time illuminating the stage as the first strum of Eddie’s guitar rang out.

Then he sang.

⸻

“Turn the lamp on

Let me talk to ya

See that light bulb

Does something to ya

Makes it a little harder

To tell a lie, don’t it?

Make it difficult

To run and hide, don’t it?”

His voice was smooth, rich, unexpectedly emotional. It wasn’t the kind of loud, thrashing sound people usually associated with metal—it was stripped down, raw, vulnerable. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him.

⸻

“Tell the truth to me

The truth to me

Come close to me

If that’s you

I wanna see the details

Inside those beautiful eyes

(Beautiful eyes)”

He looked at me the entire time. Not at the crowd. Not at some invisible muse. At me.

And it hit me all at once—this wasn’t a joke. He meant it. Every word, every note was real. Was this how he saw me? Not just his best friend… but someone beautiful? Someone he had written a song for?

⸻

“Myself ain’t never talked to me like that before

And I wonder

What on earth is he searching for?

No wonder why

There’s no mirrors on these walls no more

You can’t tell me why

You’re so terrified of beautiful…”

For years, I’d been told I wasn’t pretty enough. Not desirable. Not the kind of girl people wrote songs about. I’d learned to live with it—to hide my pain behind sarcasm or laughter, or just pretending not to care.

But now, here was Eddie—on stage, in front of a crowd—singing like I was the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.

⸻

“Scared of the good

More than the evil

Scared of the light

More than the dark

Scared of the truth so much more than the lie

I’m scared for me

I’m scared of me

Scared of beautiful…”

I blinked back tears, feeling them threaten to spill. I didn’t want to cry in a bar, surrounded by strangers. But this… this was more than I could’ve prepared for.

Eddie stepped away from the mic, bowing his head slightly. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath. When he looked up again, his eyes were glassy. He was crying, too.

He returned to the mic and kept singing, voice trembling but strong.

⸻

“ Turn the lamp down

Don't talk to me

That light bulb took some' from me

Gave some' to me

I can't decide

I can’t decide

It took freedom

Gave purpose

Can't blend in, too perfect

All this beauty ever gave me was a reason for some beautiful lies

Myself ain't never talked to me like that before

And I wonder what on earth is he searching for….?

Robin leaned over and whispered to me, “You know he’s talking about you, right?”

I shook my head slowly, chewing nervously on my straw, unable to respond. I felt like I was being seen for the very first time, and it was overwhelming.

⸻

“ No wonder why

There's no mirrors on these walls no more

You can't tell me why

Your so terrified of beautiful

Scared of the good

More than the evil

Scared of the light

More than the dark

Scared of the truth so much more than the lie

I'm scared for me

I'm scared of me "

A lump formed in my throat.

⸻

“Mirror mirror on the wall

Who’s the fairest of them all?

Mirror mirror, oh you’re so

Unfair to all the beautiful ones…”

His voice cracked slightly on the final lines, filled with so much emotion it made my chest ache.

⸻

“ No wonder why

There's no mirrors on these walls no more

You can't tell me why

Your so terrified of beautiful

Scared of the good

More than the evil

Scared of the light

More than the dark

Scared of the truth so much more than the lie

I'm scared for me

I'm scared for me

I'm scared for me

I'm scared of me I'm scared to be beautiful

Beautiful ... ”

⸻

The final note of the song lingered in the air, a soft hum that resonated in my chest long after the music stopped. Eddie stepped back from the microphone, his body tense as if the weight of his words and the performance had just hit him all at once. His head fell forward, eyes cast downward, and I could see his chest rising and falling rapidly, like he was trying to collect himself. The crowd, however, didn’t need any further cue to react. They erupted into applause, loud whistles and cheers reverberating through the bar, a wave of energy that swelled around us.

I sat frozen, my heart racing in my chest, feeling a mixture of disbelief and admiration. Eddie’s song—his song—had been more than just a performance; it was a confession. Every word, every note he had sung carried an emotion I didn’t even know he was capable of expressing so openly. It was raw, personal, and most of all, it was about me.

As the noise of the crowd grew, Eddie took a moment to wipe his face, quickly brushing away the evidence of tears that had welled up in his eyes during the performance. He straightened, a deep breath escaping him as he looked back at the crowd, his face flushed with a mixture of vulnerability and pride. His gaze swept over the audience, soaking in the applause before he spoke again, his voice carrying over the still-chattering crowd.

“This woman,” he began, his voice slightly hoarse but resolute, “has done nothing but support me, even through everything we’ve been through together. Thirteen years, Thirteen years, and she’s seen me at my absolute worst. She’s been there through my mental breakdowns, my terrible haircuts, and some of the dumbest decisions I’ve ever made in my life.”

The words were so unexpectedly candid, so raw, that my breath caught in my throat. I could feel a rush of emotion building inside of me, a tidal wave of feelings that I wasn’t prepared to deal with. The years we’d spent together—some of the happiest, and some of the most painful—flashed before my eyes. Eddie wasn’t just talking about our friendship; he was talking about everything we’d been through, the moments that had shaped us both, for better or worse.

“She’s supported me through it all, even when she didn’t have to. She’s never judged me,” Eddie continued, his voice growing stronger with each word. “She’s always stood by me—ten toes behind me—no matter what I wanted to do. And I love this woman so incredibly much. Y/N, I love you so, so, so much, mama.”

At that moment, everything seemed to stop. The world, the crowd, the noise—it all faded into the background as Eddie’s words hit me like a wave. The spotlight on him seemed to intensify, its beam now also catching me in its glow. I felt exposed, vulnerable, as if his confession was peeling away every layer I had kept hidden for so long. I had never felt so seen, so understood, yet so overwhelmed by it all.

The crowd had quieted in response to Eddie’s declaration, and I could hear my heart thudding in my ears. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. His gaze was locked on mine, so intense, so full of love and sincerity that it made my chest tighten. It was as if the weight of thirteen years of friendship, of unspoken feelings, had finally been lifted in that one moment.

I glanced around, suddenly acutely aware of the eyes of everyone in the room. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, the embarrassment creeping in, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming sense of love and admiration that Eddie had just laid bare in front of everyone. He had just confessed his love for me, not as a fleeting moment or a whisper in private, but in front of a crowd of strangers and friends alike.

I wanted to run to him, to pull him into a hug and tell him I loved him too, but my feet felt frozen to the floor. The truth of his words kept replaying in my mind, and for a moment, I couldn’t shake the overwhelming mix of emotions that surged through me.

His gaze softened, a small smile tugging at his lips, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. Eddie had always been there for me, through everything, but I had never realized just how deeply he felt for me until now.

The noise of the crowd started to filter back in, their cheers and applause growing louder, but I remained still, feeling both exposed and cherished in a way that words couldn’t quite capture. Eddie’s eyes never left mine, his smile softening as if reassuring me that everything was okay—that everything would be okay.

As the applause continued to roll, Eddie gave me one last, loving glance, his expression full of warmth and affection. He hadn’t just sung a song for me; he had shared his heart with me in a way I never expected.

And for the first time in my life, I knew without a doubt that no matter what anyone else said, I was enough. Eddie’s love was more than enough to make me believe that.

We low-key need a part two to this, what do y’all think? Thank you all for the endless amount of support. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow for the part two

[nandsmi]

my current obsession (buddie/9-1-1) often overlaps with my old obsession (steddie/st) and I can't get it out of my head that it would be a great idea for a fic

The 118 answering to a call at Eddie Munson's manor, famous (retired) rockstar Eddie Munson, well into his fifty-something years old, living peacefully in LA with his lovely pretty husband, Steve Harrington.

Steve, who greets them with a slightly bored and embarrassed expression. He guides them as he explains that Eddie got stuck in the studio vent, convinced that something was inside, probably delirious after having spent the last 72 hours awake and high, composing.

Bobby, assuring: Don't worry, sir, we'll get your husband out of there in no time.

Steve, mean girl mode on: Oh, please, do not bother, take your time. Maybe he will learn a lesson or two, this once.

Hen, midly worried: This happen a lot?

Steve: Eddie being a menace? It is his natural state, but I guess he never have being trapped in the vent before, no.

And naturally, Buddie. I can't decide what scenario I like more:

1. Eddie Diaz, huge fanboy, trying to being professional around his all-time favorite rockstar, but failling awkwardly. And Buck is so jealous about it, glaring at Munson while Steve is watching them, thinking "I can't wait to tell Robin about this", pat-pat Eddie's head once in a while so he would let be treat.

2. Buck aroused by Eddie Munson because omg what is happening that all the men named Eddie are this dark-haired-bambi-eyes deadly beautiful combo? And why Mr. Munson' husband is blushing and obviously flirting with his Eddie?

3. Steve Harrington, pretty boy aged like wine with powerfull DILF/MILF energy, shameless flirting with these hot firefighters, while in the background his husband is severely dehydrated and delirious while Chim is trying to hook up an IV on him unsuccessfully

4. Eddie, dehydrated and delirious, see a blob of blonde hair and blue eyes in front of him, asking him if he is okay and logically concludes "oh, that's Robin" and says before faints "Wow, Buckley, you' huge" and Buck, confused as hell because "how famous singer eddie munson knows my name?"

Also, maybe Robin is visiting Steddie's house and they got stuck or whatever consequences of their shenanigans and they're so embarrassed about it and Steve is almost giving up and calling 9-1-1 when Robin remembers that her baby cousin is a firefighter in LA. Imagine how suprised Buck is to receive a call from "Aunt Rob" in the middle of the night asking him to come by with a chainsaw.

Eddie, huge fanboy of Corrored Coffin, never suspected his best friend has a conection with THE Eddie Munson, but suddenly they are at a manor and Buck is calling Eddie Munson "Uncle Eds". Steve Harrington is "Uncle Stevie". And apparently Buck spent his summers as a teenager with his dad's cousin before Robin came out to her family.

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Can You Come Around

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader

wc: 2629

cw: mad flirting, swearing, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, mentions of cheating, men being weird, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, teasing

a/n: set in modern times with the reader as the front woman of a new band in NYC. hope you guys like it!!

steve masterlist

“Goddamn”  Eddie whispered as they all stared up at the stage. 

It was Robin’s twenty-first birthday, causing everyone to meet up in New York City. Since Robin was the last of the eldest teens to turn of legal drinking age, the group decided to go on a small trip in honor of the momentous occasion. 

A four day trip with four of Steve’s closest friends—what could possibly go wrong. 

Originally? Nothing.

Wednesday and Thursday went off without a hitch. Seeing as her birthday was Wednesday, they spent the night bar hopping, snagging free drinks from those who were feeling generous enough to donate to their celebration, and snagging as many free desserts from as many restaurants as possible.

Then Friday night hit. Abandoning their original plan to try this bar near NYU that Nancy had been raving about, they found themselves in some other part of Greenwich, at this random bar that Eddie just had to go to. 

You see, the group had run into one of Eddie’s old friends on Thursday, and he wouldn’t stop raving about this random band that only Eddie seemed to have heard about. And that’s when Eddie turned to look at the group. 

“No.”

“Nancy—”

“I said no Eddie, this was the plan–”

At one point he even got on his knees and pleaded with Nancy. 

She eventually caved when Eddie offered to sponsor her drinks for the rest of her trip.

Which is how they found themselves packed in the back corner of this surprising large space. It had to have spanned across two buildings since it was just this giant, underground hall that was covered in drawings, in stickers, in posters, in murals, in graffiti—dark, but not dingy, which Nancy and Robin greatly appreciated. Once the group had managed to snag a table in the back, and gotten their drinks, they all started talking to one another. 

It was loud, but since there was no music playing, they could still hear one another pretty well. 

That was until your band walked on stage the crowd of college kids roared. 

To say that Steve was completely and utterly entranced by you was an understatement. The roaming lights around the audience would catch his eyes every now and again, but it didn’t matter if he was being blinded since he could only see you anyways. 

As you greeted the audience, Eddie elbowed Steve slightly in an ‘I told you so’ manner. “You’re going to fucking love them man.” 

Steve only nodded in response, watching your smile broaden with each roar of applause from the crowd. 

The night went on like this, Steve being completely despondent from all conversations happening at the table, and the group making fun of his infatuation. He barely even finished the beer in his hand, only able to focus on the sound of your voice filling up every available inch of room. It was hard to not breathe you in with every single inhale he took. 

As the night was winding down, the crowd only grew. But as all good things, your performance had to come to an end. Your voice rang out. 

“New York!” 

They roared in response to you. 

“I just want to thank you all for coming out tonight to support me and my friends. At the end of the day we’re just a bunch of idiot twenty-two years old that fucking love music, and we’re so grateful you guys decided to come out and support us tonight.”

Steve heard Eddie scream over his shoulder with the rest of the crowd.

“Now, we only have one song left in our set–I know I know it’s devastating but some of us wanna get fucked up too.”

The opening chords of the song rang out and Steve swore he was going to go deaf. He had never actually felt sound before, but there was a first time for everything. 

Nancy whacked Eddie’s shoulder. “I fucking love this song, why didn’t you lead with that?” 

Eddie’s eyes grew wide as your voice floated over. 

Can you come around? Fuck me nice. 

“You know—you LIKE–this song?”

Pull my hair. Sing me lullabies. 

“Eddie, we listened to it in the van on the way here..”

And we can pretend that we're in love. 

Steve blocked out the rest of their conversations and zeroed in on the thrumming of his pulse as you continued to sing. 

“When you come around, I’ll wear red. And I’ll forget all the awful things you’ve ever said. And we can pretend that we're in love.” 

Singing has been a passion of yours from a very young age. You were in vocal lessons the second you turned four, and dance lessons by five. Your parents were certain you were going to be the next broadway triple threat. You had even picked up the guitar and piano by age seven. But by the time you hit middle school, you had become more interested in writing, in poetry. You dropped the dance lessons and picked up drum lessons instead, much to the chagrin of your father. Writing poetry turned into writing music, and suddenly you were sneaking off to go to concerts every night, finding ways to get into bars to see local singers and bands. It was exhilarating watching people pursue their passion.

You found your bandmates in your first semester at Columbia. You had been in the wrong place at the right time, finding out that one of your lab partners could also play the guitar and the bass. And then you found out she knew someone who played the drums who was looking for a few people to hangout with. Then you found out that the drummer's sister was a keyboardist who was over at NYU. And NYU’s roommate? Well she just so happened to be one of the greatest guitar players you had ever heard.

That’s when you guys started playing and writing music together. 

“Until I throw a punch and you call me a cunt and that tips me over the edge. Ah, you throw my phone out the window. The next thing the neighbor says she’s calling’ the feds, and I wish you were dead. For a sec. I wish you dead. “

You couldn’t help but feel as though someone had shot electricity through your veins. Any time you stepped out on that stage, it was as if the world shifted under your feet and suddenly you could feel every single pulse of every single person in the audience. 

Tonight was no exception. You had officially released two EPs with collections of songs on them over the past few years, but a few weeks ago, your band had signed with an agent, who was able to get you more gigs, better gigs. She was incredible. 

Exactly a week ago, you had released your first ever single with a label. Your EPs were listened to, and you were an up-and-coming group to look out for, for sure, but you had never had a single before. 

It blew up.

“But you come around. At ten pm. We watch tv. We break the bed.” 

Tonight was the first time you were singing the single live, and hearing the entire audience screaming the words back to you took your breath away. You almost forgot the next words since you were so baffled at just how many people knew your songs, how many people knew the words. 

 And we can pretend that we're in love. We can pretend that we’re in love.” 

You couldn’t help as your eyes roamed the entire audience the whole night, but during this final song, you locked eyes with someone in the back. 

He had these gorgeous eyes that only showed for a brief second as the light that had roamed over him, before it moved on and he was gone again. 

Your heart almost jumped into your throat and your stomach flipped. Who the fuck was this man, and how did you find him once you finished singing this song? 

“Until I throw a punch and you call me a cunt and that tips me over the edge. Ah, you throw my phone out the window. The next thing the neighbor says she’s calling’ the feds, and I wish you were dead.”

This song was written over the course of twenty-seven minutes. 

About four months ago, your relationship of three years had decided that you weren’t enough. And instead of ending it all proper-like, he decided to go and fuck some random girl in his ethics class. 

The irony was not lost on you. 

For a sec. I wish you dead. I wish you were dead.

After you had finished performing, you went backstage, congratulating your bandmates, but your mind was somewhere else. It was in the back of the venue with one of the most gorgeous men you had ever seen in your life. 

At the same time, Steve Harrington was running through all of the ways he would be able to find you in this crowd. He wasn’t about to tell his friends he was running off to find you, since it was Robin’s birthday night after all, but he wasn’t about to not take the chance. 

“They’re fucking amazing…” Robin slurred out a little bit, having had six shots in the past ten minutes. Wearing a “It’s my birthday” sash in a bar is all fun and games until you receive your tenth tequila shot and eighth free margarita from kind strangers. 

“Alright…maybe we should…”

Steve and Eddie chuckled at the sound that emanated from Robin’s mouth. He was sure if he put in the effort, he could translate it to a negative response to Nancy’s suggestion. 

“I’ll be right back Eds, while Nance and Johnny take Robin back. I know you wanted to stay out a little longer.” He muttered to Eddie before heading off, towards the hallway near the side of the venue. 

Steve found a bouncer near the end of the hallway who was smoking a cigarette and nodded outside. “Do you mind if I…?” 

The guy shook his head. “Knock twice to be let back in, yeah?” 

Steve nodded and headed outside, reaching into his pocket to pull out a joint from the small container in his pocket. 

Just as he did so, he heard a cough from beside him. “You don’t happen to have a…”

As Steve looked up, your voice trailed off. The rest of your sentence didn’t matter since you were face to face with the mystery man from the back of the room. 

“Hey you’re–” Steve pointed at you before realzing how fucking dumb he must sound. But you just shrugged and nodded. 

“Yeah. How’d you like the show?” 

Steve held the lighter up and lit the joint that was in your hand. “Loved it.”

“Yeah?” 

All you could notice was how gorgeous his eyes were again, stunned into a moment of hesitation with words since you were absolutely too mesmerized by him. 

“Great fucking show.” 

That and his hands. You would let those fucking hands do anything to you. 

“Think so?”

Steve nodded, and bit his lip as he looked you up and down shamelessly.

You come around. Fuck me nice. Pull my hair. Sing me lullabies.

You shoved Steve up against a wall, lips against his. He tasted like weed and whatever beer he had been drinking earlier. 

His hands cupped your ass as the two of you began to make out in the dimly lit alley behind the venue. 

No other words needed. 

Your body rolled reflexively against his, causing him to moan softly into your mouth. 

“Just gonna kiss me pretty boy or…” You muttered as you kissed across his jaw, sucking and leaving marks all across his neck. 

Steve took the opportunity to roll the both of you against the wall so now his body pressed yours up against it. 

His hands had moved from your back to your hips, squeezing them ever so slightly as to get more of a rise out of you. 

It was working. 

He slipped one of his hands down the curve of your hip and to the front of your jeans, unzipping them as you moaned into his mouth. The fingers that had previously been on his neck were now twisted in his hair. 

Steve’s pointer finger slid up your panties, causing your whole body to jolt at the touch of him between your thighs. 

“Please…fuck…P-Please.” 

His lips trailed down your cheek and towards your neck. 

The feeling of his hand so close to your pussy and the fanning of his breath over your neck was enough to almost send you over the edge right then and there. 

Steve knew better than to keep you waiting. Brushing aside your underwear with his thumb, he pressed a finger up into your core. 

Steve’s eye’s grew darker at the feeling of how completely soaked you were, just for him. 

Your hips rocked back and forth slightly, trying to get him to move, trying to get the friction. 

Steve took the hint and dug his finger in further, getting up to his knuckle in pussy. 

Once Steve had thouroughly fucked you with just one finger, he decided to add another. And then another, causing you to tug even more on his hair. 

Steve decided right then and there, he loved the feeling of your squirming on his hand while you yanked the shit out of his hair. 

“F-fuck–shit I’m…I’m so..” 

Steve started rapidly curling his fingers inside of you, over and over and over again, brushing against your g-spot over and over and over again. 

His other hand came up to your mouth and he slowly pushed his two middle fingers inside, causing you to slightly choke on them, and then moan. 

It was muffled by the digits in your mouth, but it was the final straw that caused your orgasm to snap your body in half. Choking slightly on one hand, and your pussy convulsing on his other, you had ascended to heaven. 

A man had never made you cum just by fingering you before. 

In the midst of your orgasm, body spasming at Steve’s fingers contined to fuck your insides, that Steve was probably just a god—a sex god really. No man could be this handsome and fuckable, while also being phenomenal at sex. 

Eventually as your body calmed down, and Steve removed his hand from your mouth, you felt his lips on yours. Your hand instantly shoved him hard against your lips, feeling the need to feel something of his skin on yours. 

He slowly circled his fingers causing your body to let out another moan, sending a shiver up your spine. 

After a few moments Steve pulled away, and you opened your eyes to take another look at the man standing with you. As you did so, he very gently pulled his hand out, looking you in the eyes the whole time. 

You might as well had cum a second time right then and there as he slowly slipped his fingers, covered in your orgasm, into his mouth. If you thought about it too much, you were sure you basically drooled right then and there for this man. 

“You…”

Steve raised his eyebrows at the fact that the woman he had just heard singing her heart out was now speechless at him. 

“Me?” 

“You’re coming back to my apartment.” 

“Oh?” 

You nodded and slid one of your hands down to zip up your jeans and fix your shirt.  Not that it mattered since you looked like you had just been fucked to heaven and back in an alley. 

Not even a moment later, just as Eddie was leaving the club he received a text from Steve: 

Dont wait up

[formosusiniquis]

any cosmo girl would have known

“Oh she did it for sure.”

“Steve!”

“Ten bucks, Bobert, don't give me that look last time we agreed double or nothing.”

“No,” Nancy insists. “This isn't Murder, She Wrote or Scooby-Doo or Columbo-”

“You saw who did it in Columbo at the beginning,” Eddie reminds.

“I know it's an awful show.”

Robin and Steve remain in sync enough to each get a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting on the coffee table to defend the only good cop show in existence.

“I'm only pointing out,” she rewinds the VHS taking it back the two or three minutes they'd talked over before stopping it completely, “that this is a movie, not a drama with a repeated format that Steve can pattern recognition into predicting.”

“You haven't seen it already, right?” Robin asks. “The one rule of Monthly Middle-Aged Movie Night is you have to pick a movie none of us have seen.”

“No, I haven't seen it already. If you'll all remember when I asked you each to go see it with me I got,” he points to each of them in turn. “‘Wouldn't you rather see Tomb Raider?’ from double VHS, prestige cinephile and ‘That's too much pink for me, baby, you know I have that intolerance, maybe Rob or Nance will go?’ from my emo-isn’t-a-phase husband. And ‘I'm a little busy with this new story, Steve,’ from Nancy, the only one of you with a real excuse.”

“Some feminist you are, Birdie.”

“I don't want to hear it from you. I watched two of the blandest men alive pursue Renee Zellweger while the screen writers tried to convince us she was homely because you ‘forgot’ you had band practice.”

“You said you liked it!”

“It grew on me, but sometimes you just want to see a woman in a tank top. And I won't be shamed by the same man who cried during Beauty and the Beast.”

“I went with my sweet baby Lucy Joan, you miserable hag,” Eddie says, “and they turned that hot werewolf into a boring looking man.”

“You weren't into that? Look at who-”

“Why am I getting made fun of? Can we finish the movie?”

“No, I'm not going to let this be another Sixth Sense situation,” Nancy says, holding the remote hostage, she knows no one will try to take it from her.

“Ugh don't even bring that up,” Eddie groans, “Dustin still mentions it in at least one letter a year.”

Nancy nods, prim and proper, “Exactly, so tell us right now why you think she did it, then we'll play it again.”

“Chutney, the daughter,” Steve corrects, “have you even been paying attention? Her hair's permed.”

“And press play,” Eddie shouts.

“No,” Robin smacks his hands as he makes his ballsy play to reach around her for the remote. “Show your work, Dingus, even I didn't follow that one.”

“I don't always like the movies everyone else picks but I at least watch them. Her hair is permed, she said she was in the shower. She would have had to have been washing her hair if she didn't hear the gunshot and she has a perm.”

“You can wash your hair with a perm,” Nancy points out.

“You would know.” Eddie snarks, fingering the ends of his own hair.

“You can't wash a fresh perm, you'll fuck up the ammonium thioglycolate. Then you're out forty bucks and you've got limp hair. She killed her dad and lied about being in the shower.”

“Press play,” Eddie decrees again, leaning in close to Steve's side to purr, “it's pretty sexy when you go all hair care detective.”

His hand starts to slip below the blanket. “This is how we ended up with Lucy in the first place,” Steve reminds him, just under the sounds of the courtroom drama picking back up. It doesn’t stop Eddie’s hand from wandering until the movie’s climax starts getting closer, and Eddie’s attention is captured just like Robin’s and Nancy’s.

“Unbelievable,” Robin says, when Elle cites the perm salt.

“Never again,” Nancy swears, when Chutney screams her confession.

“Lucy’s been asking for a brother or sister,” Eddie flirts, as Elle reveals that any good Cosmo girl could have solved it.

No more movies with mysteries or twist endings for a while, they all agree, Robin can’t afford to keep betting against Steve.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 18

Just a reminder as of tomorrow I'm starting my break. I will be back once my backlog is caught up. Last time that took a week, it might take longer, but we'll see.

In this we have Jeff and Gareth setting out befriend Steve, and Lucas gets his mind blown.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

~

Steve found that adjusting to life with Eddie was as easy as breathing. Sometimes they had breakfast together or dinner.

It wasn’t unusual for Eddie to knock on his door with some gift or another. Sometimes it was even flowers in hand.

So when there was a knock on the door, Steve went to go answer it expecting the Corroded Coffin frontman on the other side.

So to say he was surprised when Jeff and Gareth’s faces were revealed instead would have been an understatement.

“Oh hello,” he said, suddenly shy. “Did you get the right room? Eddie’s room is across the hall.”

“Nope!” Gareth said brightly, “though we did get dad’s permission to take you out.”

Jeff elbowed Gareth in the ribs and Gareth let out a pained huff of breath. “What this idiot is trying to say is that the two of us have tickets to a Pacers home game and wanted to know if you wanted to join us.”

Steve stared at them for a moment and the checked his watch for the time. It was another gift from Eddie. It was Schwartz time piece gorgeous as fuck. “Do you think I have time to get a shower?”

“Sure,” Gareth said, coming into the room, Jeff close on his heels. “The whole band was given tickets but Bri and Ed aren’t’ big sports fans so we thought we’d hit you up and see if you knew someone who’d want to go with us.”

Steve skidded to a stop in front of his dresser. He turned around slowly with a big grin on his face. Oh. Oh ho. This was going to be amazing. Heh.

“Yeah,” he said with a giggle. “Just let me call him really quick.”

He ran over to the phone and score! His dad answered. Steve gave him a brief explanation and asked permission to blow his son’s mind.

With permission granted, Steve explained the plan to Gareth and Jeff and they were one hundred percent on board. He quickly got a shower and changed, grabbing his keys and wallet.

“We are so taking you car, man,” Jeff said, crossing his arms. “It is way cooler than our cars.”

“For real,” Gareth agreed. “We both went the lame sports car two-seater route and Eddie showed us pictures of your baby, and we have to see it person.”

“Perfect!” Steve said with a grin. “This way a car my friend knows will pull up to his house and further blow his mind when he sees who else is in the car.”

Gareth and Jeff shared a mischievous grin and followed Steve down to the valet parking.

“Hey, Casey!” Steve greeted the morning valet with a broad smile. “You ask Abby out yet?”

“Dude!” Casey huffed. “She’s never going to say yes.” He shook his head and grabbed Steve’s keys, heading off to bring the car to him.

“Who’s Abby?” Gareth asked leaning around Jeff to look at the retreating backside of the valet.

“She one of the sous chefs,” Steve explained, “in the hotel restaurant. She’s been flirting with him for weeks. Like she’ll make him his favorite foods and bring it to him for his lunch. But he thinks she’s just being nice.”

“Ooh,” Jeff cooed, “love the drama.”

Casey pulled up in the Sunbird and both Jeff and Gareth let out low whistles. Casey stepped out of the car and handed Steve the keys with a blush on his cheeks.

“Pictures do not do her justice, man,” Jeff whistled again. “She is beautiful. How does she handle?”

“Like a dream,” Steve said breathlessly. “I’ll let you drive us up to the arena and Gareth can drive us home.”

The two men hive each other. “Score!”

Gareth slid into the back as Jeff and Steve got in the front. Steve tipped Casey a fiver and pulled the car into drive.

As he pulled into traffic, Jeff purred. “Holy shit, I’m definitely getting me one of these. But like in red or black. No offense, man. But yellow and metal really don’t go hand in hand.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Yellow isn’t even my favorite color. It’s just the color I was wearing that night and Eddie ran with it.”

“Oh please don’t tell him that,” Gareth pleaded from the back seat, “he’ll get all sad and a sad Eddie writes shit music, man. I don’t think I would be able to take it.”

Steve laughed again. “I have no intention of dropping the bit. Are you kidding me? I love all the bird stuff. It’s fantastic.”

Gareth and Jeff shared a look in the rear view mirror, shaking their heads.

Steve pulled up to the Sinclair house and got out, Jeff sliding into the driver’s seat with unchecked glee. He knocked on the door and was pleased to see that again Mr. Sinclair was aiding and abetting Steve’s surprise.

“He knows you’re coming over,” Mr. Sinclair whispered. “And he knows you’re going somewhere, but nothing else.”

Steve rubbed his hands together and he grinned excitedly. “Perfect.”

“Lucas!” Mr. Sinclair called over his shoulder. “Steve’s here!” He turned back to Steve. “Go blow that kid’s mind.”

Lucas came barreling down the stairs and to the door. “Hey, Steve! Dad said you had a surprise for me.”

“Oh several,” Steve replied with a grin. “Come on, we’re running short on time. Get a move on.”

Lucas said goodbye to his dad and followed Steve out to the car. He stopped when Steve moved to the passenger side.

“You’ll want to get in on this side,” Steve said, opening the door and winking at him. "Meet surprises one and two!"

Lucas crawled in and stopped short. He promptly crawled back out. “Steve why are there two members of Corroded Coffin in your car?”

Steve just grinned and pushed him back into the backseat, then slid into the front.

Jeff gave Lucas a grin from the front seat. “Eddie and Steve are good friends, kid. We just asked Stevie here to keep it secret until the tour was over.”

Lucas sat in the backseat for a moment in silence, tapping his lips. “Oh! Corroded Coffin was in town the night Steve’s parents threw him out so they’ve been footing the bill on Steve’s new lifestyle?”

“He’s sharp!” Gareth said, cackling. “Mostly Eddie, but we’ve been palling around with your friend here, too.”

Lucas nodded. “Now I know why Mrs. Byers was pissed when she found out who it was who was banking Steve’s style. But why should she care when Steve’s an adult who can think for himself?”

“One of life’s little mysteries,” Steve said sadly. “But your dad was thrilled when I told him the plan so... score one for the Sinclairs!”

Lucas giggled. “My dad trusts Steve. Hell, both of my parents do. He wouldn’t take me where I would get hurt and if anyone thinks otherwise, they’re stupid.”

“Three cheers to that!” Gareth crowed.

The trip up to Indy was filled with lot of chatting and fun banter. Lucas was smiling ear to ear when they pulled into the stadium.

Lucas stepped out and his jaw dropped. “There is no fucking way, man.”

Steve put his arm around his shoulders. “Just wait. This is just surprise two.”

Jeff and Gareth cackled as they walked up into the stadium, surrounded by other Pacer fans. Steve bought a couple of jerseys for him and Lucas and then led the way to their seats. Lucas’s eyes got wider and wider as they walked down more and more steps. When they reached the bottom, his jaw was on the floor.

They sat down in their seats and Steve grinned at Lucas. “Welcome to surprise number three!”

“Thank you Steve!” Lucas cried, throwing himself at Steve and giving him a big hug. “This is the best day ever!!”

The Pacers lost. But as it was a charity game against the Harlem Globetrotters, beggars couldn’t be choosers. But god did Lucas burst out of the stadium talking a mile a minute.

Jeff kept up with him as Steve hung back with Gareth. “Thanks for the tickets, I think I made his year.”

“Hey, no problem,” Gareth said with a grin. “Made my night too. When we formed the band in high school we made it our mission to be two things, a force for good and a force for chaos. This covers both quite nicely.”

Steve laughed. “Well, I had fun, too. It was good to get out Hawkins.”

Then he stopped dead in his tracks and quickly hid behind Gareth. “Shit, on your left silver Jag, is there a tall, good looking older man who looks like he could fucking double for Rob Lowe?”

Gareth turned to his left and stopped stock still. “Yeah, I’m guessing that’s your asshole dad?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Steve whispered, “he can’t see me here.”

“Oh, I’ve so got this,” Gareth said with a grin. He let out a long, piercing whistle, and when Jeff turned around he winked. “Autograph time! Corroded Coffin style!”

Suddenly there were people swamping Jeff and Gareth as Steve and Lucas slipped away to the Sunbird. Steve ducked into the back with Lucas and kept his head down.

“What the fuck is your dad doing here?” Lucas hissed. “Really puts a bummer on the night.”

Steve deflated like a balloon and whispered, “I’m sorry. I was only trying to have a little fun and I guess I can’t even do that without fucking up.”

Lucas sat up and put his hand on his shoulder. “Shit, Steve, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not your fault your dad is an ass. I wasn’t trying to say it was your fault.” He looked out the window and cocked his head to indicate to where Jeff and Gareth were having a blast signing autographs. “Besides, they’re having a hell of time making things horrible for your dad, look.”

Steve lifted his head to peek over the headrest to look out the windshield. Sure enough, Lucas was right. They were causing a bit of a traffic jam but only it seemed for a certain silver jag. Other cars were seemingly able to get around, but every time Clint tried to merge, the crowd would surge around his car.

But when he stopped trying to merge the crowd would thin out and other cars would get out just fine.

Steve watched in morbid fascination as this went on for nearly twenty minutes. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

Lucas fell back against the back seat laughing hysterically. “It’s absolutely hilarious is what it is.”

Once the parking lot was mostly cleared out Jeff and Gareth walked to the Sunbird and Jeff tossed Gareth the keys. “Your turn to drive.”

Gareth grinned and slid into the driver’s seat as Jeff got in the front seat and they peeled out in front of Clint with Gareth waving as they passed.

It wasn’t until they got until onto the freeway that the car erupted in laughter. They laughed for a good few miles.

“Fucking hell,” Jeff breathed. “That was the most fun we’ve had in awhile. The way his face just got purple with rage, but knowing he couldn’t do jack shit about it was just...perfection!”

Gareth patted the dashboard. “It’s good thing Eddie got you this baby. He just thought we were a bunch of famous people and wouldn’t even think of connecting the car to you.”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a grin. “Even with the little hiccup, this was the best night out I’ve had in a long time. Thanks, guys!”

Gareth and Jeff shared a glance and then Jeff turned around to smile at them in the backseat. “Believe me when I say it was absolutely our pleasure!”

~

Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt @just-a-tiny-void

8- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

9- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts @steddieislife

10- @fearieshadow @kultiras @thesecondfate @tartarusknight @genderless-spoon

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

Pieces of media my mom has seen and the popular MLM ships in them that she doesn't think are gay:

MCU - Stucky (note that she does get a kick out of Stony stuff and she believes wholeheartedly that those two hate fucked in a not-filmed scene of Avengers 2012 so this is not about her thinking "oh Captain America is so straight-laced because he's the ideal American man" or anything)

MCU - Poolverine (she's fully aware and accepting of the fact that both Logan and Wade are canonically queer characters but she thinks all the flirting Wade did with Logan in the newest movie didn't necessarily mean anything because "he talks like that to everyone". Side note though: while she believes Wade should be with Vanessa, she does think that Logan can and should shoot his shot with Wade after Vanessa inevitably dies since he and Wade are both immortal. It's just that she thinks Wade should get his happy ending with Vanessa first.)

MCU - Lokius ("Mama have you ever seen a man fix another man's tie like that" "No but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen! I wouldn't know though; it's been like 15 years since I worked a corporate job.")

Sonyverse/Marvel - Symbrock ("They literally have a symbiotic relationship. That doesn't make them gay." So I showed her the comics where Eddie calls Venom "love" and gives birth to Venom's babies and she said "Fine you win but please never show me alien man birth ever again."

Supernatural - Destiel ("They're like Steve and Bucky! They're brothers in arms! They've been through hell and back together!" Note that she only watched through season 5 but she does know about a lot of their later interactions because I told her about them)

House M.D. - Hilson ("Dot I watched that whole show and they were never anything more than good friends" "What about when House admitted to thinking about Wilson during sex? What about that whole episode where they pretended to be gay for each other to prove a point to a neighbor and Wilson proposed? What about that whole episode where Wilson had to furnish the apartment and House told him not to let a woman tell him what to do but Wilson let House tell him what to do? What about the whole ending?" "Why can't two men just be close enough friends to joke about that stuff with each other?"

Real life - Me and my best friend of the same gender orientation who I've kissed multiple times and have had a requited crush on for years that neither of us have ever persued for logistical reasons (I literally used me and this friend to try and prove my mom wrong about Stucky and Destiel. I asked her if she thought me and this friend were like brothers and she said yes with a straight face)

Sherlock - Johnlock (to be fair this is the BBC ship name, but she doesn't think any iteration of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are the slightest bit gay. "They're business partners and roommates.")

Our Flag Means Death - BlackHands (Should go ahead and say that I'm not really a BlackHands shipper myself; we both really enjoyed Stede and Ed's romance in the show. BUT it takes so much away from Izzy's character and his development if you don't acknowledge that he was jealous of Stede and in love with Ed, at least a little. My mom thought Izzy was just an extremely loyal first mate.)

Also, for the record, I'm not trying to call my mom out as homophobic. I'm queer and so are two of my siblings and she's very supportive of us. There are gay romcoms she enjoys like Our Flag Means Death and Red, White, and Royal Blue. The reason I'm making this list is because I think it's really funny how she doesn't understand the concept of queerbaiting (not that all of the above listed ships are queerbaiting). She thinks things are either explicitly straight or explicitly queer (whether it's gay, lesbian, bisexual, etc) and cannot comprehend the idea that some character relationships are deliberately pushing the boundaries of straight friendships into queer relationships to get more minority viewers and I think her explanations are funny.

[atimeofyourlife]

A coffee delivery

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: coffee shop/ tattoo au | rated: t | wc: 906 | tags: coffee shop au, tattoo au, tattoo artist eddie munson, barista steve harrington, pre steddie

Steve had something of a love/hate relationship with the morning shift at the coffee shop. On one hand, it meant he didn't have to take part in the evening cleaning, and he had most of the afternoon free. But on the other hand, it meant he had to be up early and had to deal with opening and set up.  Rude customers occurred at any time of the day. In the morning it was the customers angry that they weren't willing to open thirty minutes before their scheduled time. In the evening, they were angry that they didn't stay open over an hour past their scheduled closing time. There were two main things that made up for the rude customers. Being an independent coffee shop over a chain meant they didn't have a corporate office to answer to, so the boss allowed them to talk back and deny service to any customer that was too rude. And the nice customers generally outweighed the bad ones, the ones who would tip generously, who were always polite and kind, who would stick up for them against the bad ones.

But Steve's favorite part of the job was the guy who worked in the tattoo store a few buildings down on the other side of the street. A guy named Eddie, who would come in five days a week without fail. Always ordering a large caramel latte with two extra shots. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes before the tattoo shop was due to open. His name was Eddie, and he always made the time to flirt with Steve when he picked up his coffee.

One morning, Steve was just waiting for Eddie to come in for his coffee. It had passed the normal time he would come in, and Steve felt a little worried. Eddie had, as usual, said the day before that he would be back the next day. Steve was staring out the window, on a lookout for Eddie. Unable to keep himself from getting anxious as the time ticked by. But then, about thirty minutes after Eddie would have usually walked in, Steve saw him run down the street, obviously late to open the tattoo store. He let out a sigh of relief, but couldn't help feeling disappointed that he wouldn't get to see Eddie.

"Look, if you're that upset that you don't get to see and flirt with him today, just make the coffee and take it over to him." Robin said from beside Steve. "We're not busy, and the lunchtime rush won't start for at least thirty minutes. Just don't leave me alone too long."

"Robin, you're the best." He hugged her quickly, before turning to start making the drink.

"Just write your number on it, or at least try to get a date. It's getting painful watching you both flirt everyday."

Steve ignored her, writing Eddie's name on the to go cup, and finishing the drink. He was about to walk out from behind the counter, but stopped and one of the cookies that Eddie sometimes ordered. He was nervous as he left the store and crossed the street. Unsure if this was crossing a line, or if Eddie would think Steve was stalking him.

Steve pushed open the door to the tattoo shop, and could see Eddie cleaning furiously.

"Hi, sorry. I'm running a touch late, so if-" Eddie started, trailing off as he turned around and saw Steve.

"Er, hi. You didn't come in this morning, and I saw you run past and it was obvious you were late. So I thought I would bring you coffee and a cookie?" Steve replied, holding them out to Eddie.

"Oh. Thanks, Stevie. You are a life saver. My van crapped out this morning so I had to take the bus, but it was running late, and part of the road was closed. And I had an appointment booked for opening, and I was already late. But the client hasn't shown up yet." Eddie rambled, taking the coffee and the cookie from Steve, instantly taking a drink of the coffee.

"Sounds like a real rough morning. I hope I managed to help make it a little better for you."

"You made it so much better. You are an angel among men right now."

Steve found himself getting lost in Eddie's eyes, and jumped as he heard the bell over the door signaling someone coming in.

"I've got an appointment this morning? I know I'm a bit late for it, I did try to call-" The customer said.

"Of course. I just need a few more minutes to finish setting up." Eddie replied. He placed the coffee down on a desk and grabbed a business card, scribbling something down on it, before handing it to Steve. "I'm really going to have to get on, but I'll see you around, Steve."

"Uh, yeah. I'm going to have to get back before Robin tries to kill me for taking too long." Steve waved, before leaving and heading back to the coffee shop.

"What's that?" Robin asked as soon as Steve rejoined her, her eyes focused on the card in Steve's hand.

"Eddie gave it to me." Steve replied, turning it over and looking at what Eddie had written on it for the first time. It was a phone number tagged with the words 'call me' and a smiley face. Yeah, the trip across the street had been successful.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie, not realizing he's into men, not even when Steve Harrington took his shirt off. . .did it blow his mind? Yes. Did it realize what it meant? No. No, it was after everything, and Eddie was lying in his hospital bed, bored out of his mind. Well, at least he had this giant ass can of pretzels that Steve had bought for him. He had told Steve he liked them, and the man had run with it. The TV was busted, so there was nothing to do but watch Steve Harrington sleep.

He looked so peaceful, stretched out in the hospital chair with his head tilted back. Eddie observed how straight his nose was, pointing towards his perfectly pouty lips. He wasn't sure why, but he had the sudden urge to drag the tip of his finger down his nose until it reached his lips. Why did Eddie have the sudden urge to sit on that nose, too? Eddie scowled and shook his head, unsure of why this man's features bothered him so much that he wanted to squish his nose with his ass. There was another voice, buried deep inside of him and screaming at him: THAT'S NOT WHY YOU WANT TO FUCKING SIT ON HIS FACE!

Eddie pushed that voice back and grew annoyed that Steve wasn't wake to entertain him. He stared at the sleeping jock and then looked at the can of pretzels before grinning wickedly. He dug a pretzel out of the can and launched it at him. He watched in awe as Steve raised up and caught the pretzel in his mouth. . .all without opening his eyes. Steve chewed for a moment, swallowed, and opened his eyes.

"I fucking knew you would do that," Steve said.

"How?!" Eddie asked.

"Because I figured that Dustin had to pick it up from somewhere," Steve said. "Yeah, thanks for teaching our kid bad habits. I really love it when he throws pretzels at me when I'm trying to drive."

Our kid. Our kid. Our kid.

"Bullshit. You can't do that again," Eddie scowled.

Steve leaned back, smirked, and closed his eyes.

"Give it to me, Munson," Steve smirked.

Eddie's brain went all fuzzy for a moment before he shook his head and chucked another pretzel at him. Steve rose up again and caught it in his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and opened his eyes. He winked at Eddie.

"Jesus H Christ, what else can you do with that mouth?" Eddie asked.

Steve stared at him, his eyes growing dark as his cheeks turned pink.

"Are you flirting with me, Eddie?" Steve asked.

"What?! No! You're flirting with me!" Eddie exclaimed in an accusatory tone.

"I have been, thanks for finally noticing," Steve said.

"You like guys? Wait, you like me?" Eddie asked.

"Guys, girls," Steve said with a grin. "What about you?"

"Girls," Eddie said quickly.

"Oh," Steve said, his face falling. "I thought with the hanky. . .oh, fuck, I am a goddamn idiot. That's what you get for making assumptions, Harrington. Look, man, I'm sorry. I kind of assumed with the hanky and the rumors that I shouldn't have listened to you, but I've had like a crush on you since, like freshman year, and I wanted the rumors to be true. Jesus, I sound like Robin. I just feel like I can be a complete dork with you, something other people never really liked about me, and I just feel comfortable with you. . ."

"STEVE! SHUT THE HELL UP!" Eddie exclaimed, breathing deeply as he stared at him in realization.

"Right, sorry," Steve said sheepishly. "I'll just leave now."

"Come here," Eddie said softly.

Steve shuffled forward, looking at him wearily.

"Closer."

Steve moved closer to the bed and to Eddie.

"Closer."

Steve’s legs were now pressed up against the bars of the bed.

"Closer."

Steve sat down on the edge of the mattress as Eddie pushed the bars down. Eddie placed his hands on Steve’s hips.

"I've flirted with guys before, mostly assholes who thought less of me because it was safer to do that than to admit the truth and to flirt with people who actually gave a damn about me. I've always thought that when I flirted with guys that it didn't mean anything, especially since I didn't want those jerks to be right about me before I knew it, but flirting with them and thinking it meant nothing, was just me being a coward and running from the truth," Eddie said. "And watching you stand here, admitting the truth about me. . . It's some of the bravest shit I've ever seen. You make me want to be brave, Steve Harrington, and when I look at you. . .I don't want to run away anymore, which scares the shit out of me. . .kiss me."

Steve leaned forward and captured Eddie's lips with his. Eddie moved gently at first, enjoying the way Steve’s lips felt. . .the way he tasted. The kiss soon turned urgent with a sense of gleeful eagerness. Steve pulled away with a gasp, laughing, and kissed his nose.

"Don't overdo it," Steve said.

"I'm sorry, I yelled at you. It's just . . . I had my crisis in the middle of your speech," Eddie said and Steve laughed.

"You're cute," he said fondly.

Eddie stared at his perfectly pink lips and then looked at the can.

"This is going to sound weird, but. . .can I feed you?" Eddie asked.

"Sure," he said.

Eddie giggled and pushed a pretzel in between his lips. Steve grimaced.

"What was that face?" Eddie asked.

"What face?"

"The face you just made."

"My face?"

"Yes, your face."

"Oh, it's nothing," Steve said.

"Are you really going to start our relationship off on a lie?" Eddie asked.

"Fine. I don't like pretzels," Steve said.

"Why did you let me feed you?!" Eddie asked.

"You're really cute."

Eddie kissed him despite the fact that Steve’s taste in men was questionable, as was his taste in snack foods. Who the fuck doesn't like pretzels?!

[chaosgremlinmunson]

For @steddie-week July 3: mutual pining

Robin was going crazy, she was going certifiably insane, and she needed her best friend to kindly pull his head out of the proverbial sand and get it the heck together already. She'd been watching over the weeks and months since Eddie's recovery. She had witnessed the drug induced flirting from one high out of his gourd Eddie Munson and the subsequent flustered blush on her platonic soulmate's face who insisted he was just like that with everyone. She'd wanted to bang her head against the sterile white walls during that conversation, because firstly, no the fuck he wasn't. Eddie teased, of course, but to look at Steve Harrington and his drug added mind to supply “Guardian angel, ethereal beauty, my heartbeat, the sun in my sky, moon and stars envy your beauty, love, baby, sweetheart” no, these words were those of a love-struck man. She noticed how Eddie almost shrunk into himself when he saw them again, no longer high, but a fear set in his eyes as though he remembered the sugar sweet words he'd spoken to Steve. She noticed how Steve approached slowly, talking as though nothing happened just telling Eddie how happy he was he was still here. Still alive, still breathing.

She watched as Steve made himself available to always be there, helping Eddie to and from appointments, helping him with home exercises, being in his space and making sure he never went without.

She watched as they both fell ever deeper everyday together, further and further while believing the other couldn't possibly feel the same.

She was here now witnessing just one more instance of this absolutely convoluted mutual pining. Robin sighed and stood up. Both men looking up at her with surprise, she bit her lip for a moment, sighed again, gestured between them, and simply raised an eyebrow.

When neither seemed to respond, she huffed a breath and then started, “Alright. Enough of this. We all know I'm queer, okay? Everyone knows now and accepts me, you both cheerlead me constantly. Eddie,” she turned her eyes to him, “we know there had been rumors, I won't put you or assume anything, but my heart tells me you like Steve, maybe even love him. And Dingus,” she turned back to him, “I know the different expressions you have. There's something you're thinking or feeling for Eddie and I need you, for the love of God, to please tell him already.” She finished and looked back and forth between them again, nodded her head once and walked out the front door of the new Munson residence.

By nightfall her phone was ringing, she picked it up after a moment to hear Stevie on the other end, “Bobbin, thank you. I don't know how to tell you how thankful I am, we talked for hours and, Robbie-bird, he's my boyfriend now!”

“I'm happy for you Dingus. I love you, and I needed to see you both happy. I'm glad I was right, now get some rest and the three of us can go grab lunch tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay Bobby, love you too, goodnight.” He whispered back a smile evident in his voice.

Robin could dance. She was so happy for her friends, now to conquer her own pining heart and speak to Vicky.