#buckingham fanfic
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spicysix · 1 year ago
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“I'm a Pisces, y'know?” Robin babbles.
Chrissy turns to look at her. They're sitting in Steve's bimmer’s hood, waiting for him to get their snacks at the gas station. Nancy is sleeping in the front seat, and they can distantly hear Eddie's van coming closer every second, reaching them, metal blasting through the speakers, carrying the rest of the gang.
“Yeah?” she asks. Robin nods, still not looking back. Checking her nails. “What's that mean?”
“Uh. I saw the horoscope, from Nancy's magazine. The one you were reading earlier.” She glances at Chrissy, sideways, her lips quivering just a bit. “You're a cancer, right?”
“That I am.”
“Like Steve.”
“Like Steve,” she confirms. She might know where this is going. “This magazine's horoscope talked about, uh. Couples.”
“Yeah, that.” Robin looks at her, then. Finally. Her eyes are so pretty, Chrissy thinks. “Romantic ones.”
“Cancer and Pisces. It said-”
“Match made in heaven.” they say together.
Chrissy giggles. Yeah, she knows where this is going.
“You and Steve are a good pair.”
“NO, but!” Robin startles, going all read and her hands seem prepared to gesticulate all around. Chrissy loves it when she does that. Finds it charming. “Me and Steve, we could. Like. Never.” She fakes a gag. “Literally. Gives me the heebie-jeebies only thinking about it, honestly.”
There's a beat of silence. Chrissy hasn't looked away, and neither has Robin even though she's redder than a tomato. It makes her freckles pop. It's so cute, Chrissy thinks.
“So, you and me then?”
Robin purses her lips and for a second Chrissy's afraid she's got it wrong. But then there comes that huge, blinding smile of hers. Chrissy thinks she might be in love, or something.
“Yeah, exactly what I was thinking.”
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legendarydragonperson · 27 days ago
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I forgot to ever make this post but yeah I'm on volume 3 of my series Robin Buckley and Eddie Munson's Guide To Taking Down the Hawkins Monster which is Robin x Chrissy and Steve x Eddie focused and I'm posting a new chapter tomorrow so if your interested you can read here it's taken me almost a year to write ao3 author curse is real
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thefreakandthehair · 1 year ago
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Spring Fanworks Challenge 2023, Part One [See Part Two Here!]
picnic time with you, by @pizzaqueen | steddie, fic, teen & up
when they raise the landing gear (will your heart stay here?), by @hexiewrites | steddie, fic, mature
side to side, by @spinmewriteround | steddie, fic, explicit
I just wanna call you mine, by @itsfreakingbats | buckingham, fic, teen & up
every single time, by @aidaronan | steddie, fic, teen & up
-> in collaboration: bonfire, by @sparkle-fiend | steddie, fanart
your past, our future, by @cassiepng | steddie, fic, mature
change of plans, by @userlestat | steddie, fic, teen & up
the answers are all inside of this, by @thefreakandthehair | steddie, fic, explicit
bonfire, by @is-emily-real | steddie, fic, teen & up
one single thread of gold tied me to you, by @fragilecapric0rnn | steddie, fic, teen & up
where it counts, by @toburnup | steddie, fic, explicit
my heart is my armor, by @harmonictechnicality | steddie, fic, teen & up
the only thing I would change, by @starryeyedjanai | steddie (eddie-centric), fic, general
do I wanna know?, by @allerask | steddie, fic, explicit
steamy windows, by @legitcookie | steddie, fic, explicit
it's on the house, by @acasualcrossfade | steddie, fic, general
a white blank page, by @aringofsalt | steddie, fic, teen & up
april showers, by @hellfireloserclub | steddie, art
catch me like the falling rain, by @sidekick-hero | steddie, fic, explicit
fluttering of wings, splashing of waves, by @undreaming-fanfiction | steddie, fic, general
night shift, by @pluckedstrings | steddie, fic, mature
you should come live with me and we can be pirates, then you won't have to cry, by @shares-a-vest | steddie, fic, general
I guess I have to fall in love with strangers, by @bmodiwrites | steddie, fic, teen & up
this umbrella belongs to me (to us), by @strawberryspence | steddie, fic, teen & up
all for the love of you, by @matchingbatbites | steddie, fic, general
group hug, by @like-what-the-fuck-scoob | eddie-centric, fic, general
hey now, don't dream it's over, by @judasofsuburbia | steddie, fic, teen & up
project easy-bake, by @maxineholtzmann | steddie, fic, teen & up
bee mine?, by @unclewaynemunson | steddie, fic, teen & up
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thesapphicsoldier · 2 years ago
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I read lots of oneshots but it’s hard to find good full fics so if anyone has any recommendations for the tagged ships below lmk
(No major character death pls)
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buckingham-ashtray · 8 months ago
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No matter how it always ALWAYS seems like John Watson and Sherlock Holmes are love at first sight that’s never the entire truth because they never “fall” in love because they have been in love for one hundred and thirty seven years and they are in love in every universe so no matter when or where or how they meet they will always fall in love with each other all over again because their love is carved into Fate since the start of creation just as firmly as Olympus Mons stands on Mars because their love runs and fills all the arteries and veins and vessels mapping every inch of their bodies and bleeds through every universe into them because Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are destined to be in love CAN'T YOU SEE
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hbyrde36 · 23 days ago
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Your Dasher is Nearby ❤
(Inspired by a TikTok that I can no longer find the link to 🙈)
For @pearynice - Happy Birthday bestie! ILY! 🥰😘🤗
Steddie | Explicit | WC:6672 | AO3
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After fighting with the finicky lock on his front door for almost a full five minutes, Steve slunk inside, reveling in the hush of his quiet, if lonely, abode after an exhausting day at work. Robin had only moved out a few weeks ago, and he still wasn’t quite used to coming home to an empty house. Don’t get him wrong, he was happy for her, he just wished she could have settled down with a girlfriend that didn’t live so fucking far away.
Technically, it was a reasonable forty-five minute drive from Hawkins to Indianapolis, but when you were used to seeing someone every single day, even a mile down the road felt as far off as the moon.
It probably didn’t help that today was his birthday, the first he’d have to spend alone since he and Robin had met, slinging ice-cream together one summer after high school and became instant best friends. They had plans for a sleepover on the weekend to celebrate, but that didn’t stop Steve wishing she were there now. Not to mention the fact that the only happy birthday texts he’d gotten all day had been from Robin, and a few of the kids he used to babysit, who weren’t really kids anymore. There hadn’t been a call, text, or so much as an email with one of those shitty e-cards full of low-resolution sparkly roses and balloons from either of his parents. 
Not that he’d expected any different, but it stung all the same.
After a long hot shower that sadly did nothing to lift his mood, Steve stood in front of his refrigerator and sighed. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised to find it bare, it wasn’t as if he'd been grocery shopping recently, but for some reason those empty glass shelves staring back at him like an accusation of how badly he was taking care of himself, were the last straw.
He slammed the fridge door, spinning on his heel to stomp like a petulant child over to the couch, not even bothering to switch the living room lamp on. If he was going to cry he might as well do it in the dark. The first tear slid down his cheek as he hugged a throw pillow to his chest. From there, the floodgates opened when he realized the cushion he clutched still smelled faintly of Robin’s perfume.
God he was pitiful. 
He was twenty-four—er—twenty-five, not five, and much too old to be acting like such a baby.
In the middle of his pity-party for one, Steve's phone vibrated in his sweatpants pocket. He pulled it out in a rush, equal parts hoping for a message from his mom, and dreading it. Only to be disappointed yet again.
It was a stupid notification from DoorDash. A coupon code, no doubt pushed to him because of the day. These companies all had far too much of people’s personal information. Some days Steve would swear his phone was actually picking up on his conversations. Dustin said he was being paranoid, but Steve knew better. Maybe it wasn’t the NSA or some other secret government agency, but someone was listening.
He was sure of it.
You deserve a treat. Use code 30FROMDD for 30% off.  Offer expires 3/20/25. $12 order minimum required. Terms apply.
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Hmm…
He was supposed to be saving money now that he had to cover the mortgage alone. Of course, he’d considered the idea of looking for another roommate, and eventually he would have to, but he wasn’t ready to see anyone else in Robin’s space yet.
Fuck it, he thought, lifting the bottom hem of his white tank top to wipe at his eyes. It was his birthday dammit. 
He did deserve a treat.
Steve kept it modest, finding Benny’s within the app and adding his usual cheat meal to the cart, a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a slice of chocolate cake for good measure. His finger hovered above the order button for a moment before he decided to say fuck it, again, and added a six pack of beer from the convenience store around the corner and a small pack of birthday candles. 
He finished the transaction quickly and closed out of the app before he could change his mind and talk himself out of it, then decided to indulge in one more thing, calling Robin on FaceTime.
She answered on the first ring, already singing to him as the video call connected.
“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Dinguuuuuuuuuuus, Happy Birthday to you!”
God he loved her.
He laughed, feeling the first genuine smile he’d given all day stretch over his mouth as he leaned back into the couch, holding the phone up near his face.
“Thanks for that,” he said sarcastically, but really meaning it wholeheartedly.
“Aw, honey,” Robin squinted, leaning closer to her own screen. “Your hair’s wet. What’s wrong?”
She would notice that.
Steve raked a hand through his dripping locks self consciously. They’d lived together long enough for her to know how much he hated letting it air dry. It always lacked his signature fullness when left to its own devices, but pulling out his hair dryer and round brush tonight felt like way too much effort.
“Nothing,” he said through a heavy exhale. “Just the usual.”
And of course that was all the context Robin needed to guess at the heart of the issue.
She sneered, nose wrinkling in disgust. “Remind me to punch your parents in their stupid faces if I ever meet them.”
“Will do,” he said with a little mocking salute.
“I’m serious!” She insisted, dragging a finger across her throat in a, surprisingly terrifying, cutting gesture. “Richard and Donna’s days are numbered.”
Steve choked on a snort. “I’m sure they’re shaking in their boots.”
“As they should be.” Robin gave a decisive nod, satisfied that her thinly veiled threats to him over the phone would somehow make their way to his parents, wherever they were. “On to happier topics then. We’re still on for this weekend, right?”
Steve rolled his eyes, lounging back onto the couch and kicking his socked feet up on the coffee table. “Obviously.”
“I’m just checking!” She squeaked defensively. “For all I know you’ve lined up a date or something since we made these plans.”
“Who’s going on a date?” Another feminine voice trilled from somewhere off camera.
Robin lifted her eyes, looking in the distance as she answered. “Steve.”
Steve tilted his head back with a sigh. These fucking lesbians were relentless. “I’m not going on a—”
Suddenly a second face filled his phone’s screen, Chrissy, her strawberry blonde hair falling in both her and Robin’s faces, as she mashed their cheeks together. “Who’s the lucky guy taking our little birthday boy out on the town?” She asked.
“There’s no guy—or girl. Robin’s being annoying.” Steve made sure to emphasize the or, since the two of them liked to go around pretending they forgot that Steve was ‘half straight’, as Robin would say. He knew it was only her way of lovingly trying to get a rise out of him, but there would be no bi-erasure in his house! Teasing or not.
Chrissy pouted. “Oh boo, you’re no fun.”
It’s not like Steve didn’t want to date, he was just feeling a little gun-shy after the whole Tommy fiasco. Robin and Chrissy had both been on him for weeks about getting back out there, constantly trying to set him up with some friend of Chrissy’s who still lived in town. He had a feeling that encouragement was about to get ten times worse now that Robin wasn’t there to keep an eye on him herself.
Robin shoved at Chrissy’s shoulder, knocking her out of frame. “Babe, be nice.” 
“You started it.” Chrissy retaliated with a tickle attack, or so Steve assumed based on the way Robin began shrieking like a banshee, and the fact that his view through the phone suddenly became erratic, swinging around wildly. 
Adorable as all this was, the Blair Witch style cinematography they were subjecting him to was making him nauseous, and maybe a little jealous of their relationship.
“Hey,” he called out, clearing his throat. “I think I'm gonna let you guys go. Thanks for the song, Rob.”
“No, wait, Steve—” Robin shouted, shushing Chrissy. The world around her stopped spinning as she seemed to settle on her back, laying down on the carpet and holding the phone above her. “You sure?” 
He knew she'd stay on the phone with him all night if he needed her to, but that idea only made him feel more pathetic. 
“Yeah. My takeout is gonna be here soon anyway.” Steve said with a smile, trying hard to make it reach his eyes so she’d believe he was okay. “Love you, see you in a few days.”
After a brief pause with a wrinkled brow she finally gave in and smiled back. “Love you too, Dingus.”
Steve rubbed at his face, pocketing his phone before getting up to finally switch the lights on, the TV too for some background noise, and found he was actually feeling a little better after seeing Robin’s face, the sting of the day fading into the background a bit. He puttered around for a while, straightening the house, even managing to throw a load of laundry in the wash before his pocket buzzed again. 
Eddie is approaching with your order.
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He tapped the notification, opening the app so he could see exactly how close he was to being in hamburger bliss, thrilled to find his dasher was mere blocks away, only for his stomach to drop half a second later.
In his hurry to order he’d completely forgotten to add a tip, and no matter how hard he jabbed at his screen, the stupid app wouldn’t let him go back and change it now. The way Steve saw it, he had two options—stiff this poor Eddie guy on his tip, or meet him outside with cash. Which was… probably a super weird thing to do, but it beat having someone, who now knew where he lived, thinking he was an asshole.
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Eddie yawned, stretching his arms up as far as the roof of the van would allow while he waited for the light to turn green. He was stiff, exhausted from his shift at Thatcher’s and had only taken the time to have a quick shower and wolf down a burrito from the gas station before accepting his first order. 
The last thing he felt like doing after slaving away under chassis and over car engines all day, was drive around all night delivering food to the ungrateful masses. But, Wayne’s hospital bills weren’t going to pay themselves. Getting into a fender bender wasn’t cheap these days. It was fine, they’d manage, but he didn't want the old coot hurting himself by trying to go back to work at the plant with a broken goddamn arm. Honestly Eddie was just grateful his uncle had made it out of the accident in one piece. He’d work a second job for the rest of his life if he had to, so long as his surrogate father stayed around for a good long time. 
Who else would walk him down the aisle some day? That is, if Eddie could ever land a date again. 
He’d had his fair share of short-lived relationships and a few steamy one and two night stands, but he’d yet to find someone worth settling in for the long haul. Or, hell, find someone who was even interested in the long haul. Not that he didn’t appreciate the simple joy of a random hookup now and again, but sometimes he felt like the last hopeless romantic in a generation full of peers who didn’t believe in love anymore.
The first few runs of the night were business as usual, mainly fast food pick-ups and quick, easy, no-contact drop offs. He couldn’t help thinking if he kept up this pace he might even be able to knock off early enough to get a full eight hours of sleep.
Optimism wasn’t usually his gig, which probably should have been the first red flag that the night was about to take a turn.
Lost in the groove, he accepted the next order without really looking at the details, annoyed to realize it not only involved two stops, but this Steve prick hadn’t even selected a tip. 
Eddie raced to the first destination, speed the one way to make this order worthwhile now, and hoped the guy’s food was bagged and ready to go. It was, thankfully, and he snatched the bag off the counter with barely a wave at the worker standing behind it, sprinting back out the door.
There was a brief hold-up at the second spot, the same combination gas station corner-store Eddie had procured his dinner from earlier, something about candles that were out of stock—he wasn’t really listening and the app would notify the customer anyway—but he was on his way soon enough, breaking traffic laws left and right to get across town in record time. 
After double checking that he was at the right address, Eddie parked on the street in front of a mailbox shaped like an ice cream truck all done up in pastels, and despite it all found himself smiling as he got out of the van. It was a small, quaint one-story house, with a well-loved vintage BMW parked in the drive. The sky was growing dark, but a pair of bright porch lights provided enough of a glow to reveal old wood siding painted a light robin’s egg blue and an immaculate lawn dotted with brightly colored kitschy ornaments, statues, and one very large pink bird bath in the center of it.
Not at all what Eddie had been expecting, for some reason.
Bags in hand, he headed up the walkway, assuming he’d be leaving the order on the front porch like usual, but as he got closer to the house the front door swung open and a man stepped out, padding determinately down the front steps.
His hair was slicked back, damp as though he were fresh from the shower, with a tight white tank top stretched across his ample chest, thick hair curling up over the neckline. To top it all off, the wet-dream look was completed with the most sinful pair of gray sweatpants imaginable, that did absolutely nothing to conceal the monster hiding beneath the deceptively plain fabric.
And his face?
Eddie nearly tripped over a garden gnome wearing a little rainbow cap because he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the man’s warm hazel eyes, pouty pink lips, chiselled jaw, and lightly tanned skin peppered with beauty marks.
Fuck he was pretty.
Almost intimidatingly so, and had Eddie run into the guy in any other setting he might have felt exactly that. Christ, if he looked this good bumming around at home he must have been an absolute knockout when he was dressed up for a night out. But right now like this, walking towards Eddie over the lawn with no shoes? He looked soft, sweet.
And exactly Eddie’s type.
“Steve?” He asked, just to be sure, and was rewarded with the sight of this beautiful adonis of a man grinning shyly, nodding yes as his cheeks flushed pink. 
Eddie melted on the spot. He’d always adored the idea of love at first sight, not that he’d ever admit that aloud. And really, there were far too many crazy stories of coincidences and chance first meetings floating around out there on Reddit and TikTok for it not to be a real thing for some, but he’d never been crazy enough to think it could happen to him. 
… Not that this was that. 
Love was a bit of a strong word for someone he’d met seconds ago, no matter how much of a romantic Eddie was at heart, but there was definitely some kind of instant attraction thing going on here, at the very least. And if the way Steve held his gaze, shivering in the warm night air when their hands brushed as Eddie passed him his bags was any indication, he wasn’t the only one feeling it.
It felt something like the way you might spot a cute guy or girl across the bar and know you were bound for a tryst in a public bathroom that night. But somehow also so much more than that. Did Eddie want to trace the bulging outline in Steve’s pants with his mouth, pull them down past hairy thighs with his teeth and see how far he could stuff what appeared to be an impressive length down his throat? 
Absolutely, he did. 
But he also wanted to hear about Steve’s hopes and dreams, learn his favorite candy, and color, and see what brand of trash TV he liked to watch while cuddling on the couch at night. Wanted to know what that stunning face looked like bathed in sunlight on a Saturday morning, sipping coffee at a table while Eddie stood at the stove making him pancakes.
Eddie swallowed hard, frozen in place by some force outside his control, fated to stand right there for the rest of his life under the hypnotic pull of a stranger's eyes, and was more than happy to do so.
It was Steve who moved first, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream. With a little shake of his head he held out his free hand, a ten dollar bill tucked between two fingers. “I, uh, t-this is for you,” Steve stuttered out, a nervous giggle playing at the back of his throat. “I messed it up in the app, somehow. I’m not the best with technology.”
“Oh,” Eddie breathed, reaching out, but instead of grasping the edge of the bill like he should have, he practically took Steve's entire hand in his own without thinking. Sparks crackled through his veins as though he’d gripped a live wire, his desire for the man in front of him growing tenfold at the simple touch. “Thank you, that—that’s really sweet of you.”
For a long beat, neither of them moved or let go, whatever spell had fallen over them still lingering in the air.
Again it was Steve who came to his senses first, biting his bottom lip as he gently took his hand back, letting go of the cash. “Sorry, I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight,” he said, as though he were the one who’d held on and not the other way around.
“No it’s—” Eddie huffed a laugh, and knew exactly what he had to do. “Listen, this is going to sound so unprofessional but I know I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t at least ask for your number.”
Steve’s gaze dropped to the ground, his socked feet sliding over the grass as he rocked on his heels, before looking back up with another shy smile. “At the risk of sounding worse, would you like to come in for a drink… now?”
Eddie opened his mouth to agree instantly. How could he possibly pass up an opportunity like this? But then he thought of Wayne and the bills and found himself hesitating, glancing back at his van for a half-second, only to get quickly caught in the draw of Steve’s eyes again when he looked back.  
Fuck it, he could take a break for a while, even if it meant dashing into the wee hours later.
“Maybe not a drink since I have to drive, but if you’re willing to share that cake you got there, I think we could work something out.”
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Steve swung open his front door, heart racing as he held it for the man following him inside.
Eddie.
His long-haired, doe-eyed, sent like an angel from heaven straight to his fucking house, smoking hot Doordash driver.
And those dimples?
Steve had never been so instantly, insanely, and completely enamored with someone in his entire life, relieved that the feeling seemed to be at least somewhat mutual considering the guy had asked for his number like that. He had no idea what had possessed him to invite Eddie in, it wasn’t like him to be so spontaneous or reckless these days, but he didn’t regret it. 
Robin was going to kill him.
With barely a glance down to make sure he didn’t miss, Steve dropped the bags with his dinner and beer on a nearby side table, his desire for food replaced now with an entirely different kind of hunger. He quickly turned to say god-knew-what to his unexpected guest, and instead found himself being crowded back against the wall, Eddie’s huge brown eyes and plush lips quickly filling his vision. 
“You’re even more gorgeous now that I can see you better,” Eddie said in a soft husky baritone, reaching up to smooth a bit of stray hair away from Steve’s face.
An embarrassing whine slipped from deep inside Steve’s throat, in reply. They’d hardly spoken, barely touched, and yet he was already half hard and out of his mind with how much he wanted the beautiful stranger in front of him.
As if they’d somehow choreographed it, they both surged forward at once, a perfect first touching of lips that, at least for Steve, rivaled every first kiss that had come before it. 
This whole thing was nuts, from chance meeting, to overwhelming crush at first sight, to kissing in a matter of minutes. 
“This is crazy,” Steve said when he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Eddie’s as he caught his breath.
Eddie too panted for air, smoothing his hands up and down Steve’s sides, a comforting touch that also made his skin break out in goosebumps. “Good crazy or bad crazy?”
“Good, good. Definitely good,” Steve blurted out quickly, swallowing his nerves. “I just… I never do things like this.” 
That had Eddie stilling his hands—which Steve hated—and pulling back a little—which Steve hated even more—to tilt his head, eyes full of concern. 
“Do you want to stop?”
Five simple words but with them came absolute sincerity. Steve did not know this man, but somehow he believed that he could end this right now and Eddie wouldn’t hold it against him, wouldn’t get mad and call him a prude or a tease.
It only made Steve want him more.
“Fuck no,” he said, with feeling, winding his hands into that mass of curly hair and bringing Eddie‘s mouth crashing into his again. 
Without ever really separating they both lost their shirts, and somehow Steve moved them as one from the living room, down the hall, and to his bedroom, crashing into the wall more than once, knocking a row of Robin’s old canvas painting askew where they hung.
The sight of the bed gave Steve pause for the second time that night, and had his lips slowing to a halt. He wasn’t lying when he told Eddie he didn’t usually do hookups, especially with guys, and he wasn’t sure what the protocol was when you didn’t know ahead of time if your partner preferred to top or bottom.
Like the perfect man he seemed to be so far, Eddie read him like a book, holding him close as he rubbed his back in soothing circles. 
“I’m verse so, whatever you want, Steve, it’s yours.” 
Of course, Steve knew exactly what he wanted, but time and bad experiences made him feel shy asking. “Me too, but I…” he tried, trailing off.
“Oh,” Eddie crooned. 
The hand kneading Steve’s lower back slipped past the waistband of his pants as Eddie reached down to squeeze his ass, one finger sliding over his hole.
Steve whimpered, arching into the small dry touch.
“You need it bad, don’t you, baby?” Eddie asked, without a hint of teasing, as if he understood the feeling.
Steve could only roll his hips, making more needy little sounds in answer.
Eddie pressed a kiss to his forehead, gently coaxing him to sit down on the bed. “How about you lay back and let me take care of you then. Okay, sweetheart?”
Steve did as he was told, sliding back across the sheets of his unmade bed while Eddie kicked off his shoes and followed, settling between his legs. He already felt more at ease with this man he barely knew than he ever had in the almost three years he’d wasted on Tommy.
For a moment Eddie laid his full weight on top of him, bare chest to bare chest, capturing his mouth in another dizzying kiss, Eddie’s tongue exploring the depths of his mouth like he was licking up the remnants of chocolate syrup in the bottom of a sundae, moaning at the taste.
Eddie was incredibly hard where he was pressed to Steve’s hip, grinding in time with the swirls of his tongue. He also felt absolutely huge, and though dry humping was very hot and severely underrated, Steve couldn’t wait to feel Eddie inside him.
With an almost painful, teasing slowness, Eddie began to slide down Steve’s body, that clever mouth working its way down his neck and chest, each touch of lips a searing heat, tongue tracing a wet line down the length of his happy trail until it met the band of his pants. Only then did Eddie lift up, sitting back on his heels as he gripped the waist of Steve's sweats, gently tugging them down and off, tossing the bundle to the other side of the bed.
The air hitting him where he was suddenly bare was a bit of a shock, but it was nothing to the weight of Eddie’s gaze as he looked down at Steve’s body, a reverence in his eyes as he took it all in that made Steve want to weep. He wasn’t sure any other partner had looked at him quite like that before.
“Beautiful,” Eddie murmured quietly, and in a mirror of before now began making his way back up, beginning with a tender kiss to Steve’s knee.
Steve sucked air through his teeth, lost in sensation as Eddie alternated between biting and pressing open mouthed kisses to the delicate skin of his inner thigh, moving closer and closer to his center until there was a quick flick of a tongue over his hole.
Just once, the warm wet touch of it there and gone so fast it could have been dismissed as an accident if Eddie hadn’t looked up after, heavily lidded eyes boring into Steve’s own as he asked the question.
“Can I?”
Steve’s mouth fell open, Tommy would never—
No. 
No, he wasn’t going to think about that asshole anymore, not when he had someone right here eyeing him up like he was the pièce de résistance of a gourmet meal. God, where had this man been all his life?
“You want to?”
Eddie chuckled. “When I said I wanted your cake, I wasn’t exactly talking about dessert.” 
With a raise of his brow Eddie ducked back down, licking a wet stripe from Steve’s taint to the base of his cock, hands sliding beneath his ass, hoisting him up for better access.
“Oh fuck.”
Steve writhed, head thrashing, his hands twisting into the sheets around him as his trembling knees found their resting place on top of Eddie’s shoulders. They were just getting started and he already wanted to live there forever with Eddie’s head nestled between his thighs.
With that reaction Eddie dove in with gusto, his tongue circling Steve’s rim over and over, making his hole flutter with each lingering pass. It felt incredible, but the sounds Eddie made as he feasted were equally as divine, making it clear that he was enjoying himself as much as Steve was.
And Steve was enjoying himself, thoroughly, his cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum onto his belly while his mouth released a flood of whorish sounds he’d never heard himself produce before.
It only worsened when Eddie’s talented tongue pushed its way inside for the first time. Steve would owe his neighbors an apology in the morning, but as Eddie breached his hole again, pushing it deeper still while finally setting him down to take hold of his aching cock, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Eddie took it slow, switching up the rhythm of his hand as he worked Steve over, keeping him right on that precarious edge, all the while taking turns between laving over the ring of puckered skin with long wet strokes, and fucking into him with the tip of his hot tongue.
As mind blowing as it was, it wasn’t long before Steve found himself wanting more, needing more, needing Eddie to hurry up and fuck him already. He must have made a sound of frustration, that or Eddie was some kind of mind-reader, because the moment he was about to break down and beg for it he felt two fingers, slick with spit, start working him open. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” Steve chanted, fucking himself down as best he could now that he had some leverage to work with, pleased when Eddie spurred him on.
“That’s it, baby, take what you need.”
Eddie kept pumping his fingers, adding a third and meeting Steve thrust for thrust until Steve’s chants and moans turned to desperate babbling pleas.
“Condoms?” Eddie asked, pressing a kiss to the hollow of Steve’s groin as he slowed the movements of his hand to a stop, pulling his fingers free as gently as he could.
Chest heaving, Steve fought to catch his breath. He gestured vaguely at his nightstand, ignoring the suddenly empty feeling as his stretched hole clenched around nothing, trusting he’d be full again soon.
“Be right back, gorgeous.” 
With one more sugary sweet brush of lips to his hip, Eddie slipped off the bed, shedding his jeans and boxers in one smooth motion before digging through the small drawer, quickly finding what they needed.
Steve took the chance to look his fill as Eddie climbed back onto the bed, the sight of the heavy cock swaying between his legs making his mouth water, and making him wish he’d stripped Eddie down himself and taken the chance to explore his body in kind. There were a pair of tattoos low on his hips that held a particular interest. 
Next time, he thought. 
If there was a next time.
And then Eddie was lining himself up and pushing inside, and Steve couldn’t think of anything at all. 
They’d done enough prep that the head popped right in, but Eddie was big, bigger than any cock or toy Steve had taken before and by the time Eddie was fully seated inside he was so full he felt like he might split in two, in the best way possible. 
Eddie stayed there, perfectly still, letting Steve adjust for so long that Steve was afraid he’d never move, but he shouldn't have been worried. Eddie had promised to take care of him and it seemed he was taking that vow seriously, or maybe his seemingly endless patience had finally run out. After a slow experimental thrust that sent Steve’s mouth falling open in pleasure, he set a brutal pace, the sound of their bodies like a raucous round of applause. Music to Steve’s ears.
He knew right away wasn’t going to last at this rate, it’d simply been too long and he was too turned on to start with. Thankfully he could feel Eddie pulsing inside him each time he slammed to the hilt, and knew the other man was just as close to his tipping point. 
Soon the familiar thrumming pleasure began to build under Steve’s skin, filling him up with each slap of their bodies together until he could no longer hold it in anymore. He came untouched with the strangled cry of Eddie’s name on his lips, and starbursts flashing across his vision. It went on for what seemed like forever, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over him while Eddie continued to fuck him hard through it, hitting his prostate with every thrust as he chased his own orgasm until he finally followed Steve over that delicious edge. 
Neither moved until Eddie softened, slipping out of Steve with ease as he moved away, tying off the condom before dropping it to the floor. 
With their breaths slowing and the dust settling, and the overwhelming sense of desire fully satiated, Steve expected to feel awkward, but it was hard to feel anything but content when Eddie rolled back over and pulled him into his side, humming happily, kissing his hair as Steve rested on his head on his chest,
“God, where have you been all my life,” Eddie mumbled with his lips still pressed to Steve’s temple.
Steve froze, going rigid in Eddie’s embrace, stunned to hear him give voice to the same thought he’d had earlier.
“Shit,” Eddie cursed softly. “Did I say that out loud?”
Slowly Steve raised his head, silently nodding when he couldn’t seem to unstick his suddenly tight throat. 
“Sorry,“ Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he tried to sit up. “I—I get it, I can go if you—”
“Don’t—” Steve pressed a hand to Eddie's chest, forcing him back down, searching his face for some sign that he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself. Though, he was pretty sure Eddie was worth the risk. “Please tell me that means this wasn’t a one time thing, that you feel it too?”
He wasn’t even sure what it was, this strange connection they seemed to have, without ever meeting before. He only knew it had grown stronger with every kiss, every caress, every drop of fluids they’d wrung from each other’s bodies.
Eddie sagged, melting into the bed, a relieved smile curling his lips as he reached up to cup Steve’s cheek. “Steve, baby, I felt it the second I laid eyes on you. I meant it when I asked for your number outside. I know we kinda took the next step already, but I'd love to take you out. I want to do this right, get to know each other, win you over with my unconventional charms in the hopes one day we could make this official.”
Steve smiled back, feeling practically giddy as he leaned into Eddie’s tender touch, processing his words. It was everything he could have wanted to hear and more, except.
Why wait for all that?
“Or I could be your boyfriend now,” Steve countered. “And we could let the rest of it work itself out later?”
“Deal,” Eddie said with zero hesitation, pulling him in for a deep lingering kiss to seal it. 
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“What were the candles for?” Eddie asked after a while. 
They’d been cuddling in comfortable silence for so long that Steve was pretty sure he’d drifted off a few times.
“Hmm?” he hummed, stirred by the question, totally blanking for a moment until it all came rushing back. His horrible day, that had completely melted away once Eddie showed up and turned his world upside down.
“Oh god,” he groaned, shame curling in his gut, even though he knew that was stupid. “It’s, um… It’s sorta my birthday? And I was feeling really bummed about spending it alone since my roommate and best friend just moved away. So, I thought I'd get some birthday candles to put in a slice of cake to cheer myself up, and...”
Yeah, it didn’t sound any better when he said it out loud, but if they were really doing this he couldn’t exactly not tell Eddie that today was his birthday. He'd find out eventually.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Eddie said without pity, dropping more of his wonderful kisses to the top of Steve’s head.
“I get it, y’know,” Eddie went on. ”Being lonely. I have my uncle at home but my best friend moved to Indy a few months ago and life hasn’t been the same without her in my business all the time.”
Steve huffed an incredulous laugh. “That’s where my roommate moved too. Small world.” 
As if she could somehow sense that he was thinking about her, because it had to be Robin calling, Steve’s phone began to vibrate where it laid on the edge of the bed, sticking halfway out of his pants pocket. With a groan he sat up, missing Eddie’s warmth immediately, and reached for it. He meant to simply silence the call and give his attention back to the brand new boyfriend in his bed, until he saw the literal dozens of text messages and missed video calls from her.
With an apologetic glance at Eddie he quickly tapped the button to answer her incoming facetime.
“Stephen. Marie. Harrington,” she growled through gritted teeth. “You’d better be dying in a ditch somewhere or I swear to god—” she cut herself off suddenly, eyes narrowing as she stared into her phone. “Are you in bed right now? Why are you in bed at 9 o’clock?”
Steve bit his lip, looking over again at Eddie who shrugged as if to say, it’s up to you.
“I… kinda met someone?”
“How did you meet someone without leaving your…” she trailed off slowly, a look of dawning horror coming over her face. “Oh god, don’t tell me you rejoined the dating apps.”
“It was DoorDash, actually.”
Robin blinked at him. “... What?”
“Nevermind.” Steve tilted his phone, holding it further away as he panned the camera over to get both of them in the shot. “Um, this is Eddie,” 
“Hi Steve’s best friend!” Eddie said with a grin and a wave, the rumpled sheets still pooled around his hips leaving his glistening, sweat and other bodily fluid coated chest on full display. He was definitely not shy.
Steve was obsessed with him.
Suddenly Robin was gone, as if someone had ripped the phone out of her hand, the shaky picture flipping from a far off view of a small kitchen, to a white ceiling, and then to a close up of Chrissy’s face, her mouth agape.
“Eddie?!”
“Chris—what? How?!” Eddie sat up abruptly, pulling the sheets up as if he was suddenly scandalized, eyes wide with pure shock. “Steve… Is your lesbian best friend, my lesbian best friend’s girlfriend?”
“I guess so?” Steve said in a baffled haze, before being hit with a sudden realization. He glared into his phone's camera. “Is Eddie the guy you kept wanting to set me up with?”
Chrissy held a hand over her mouth, giggling uncontrollably as she nodded. 
Holy shit. 
It really was a small world.
Steve sighed heavily, “tell Robin I'll text her tomorrow,” ending the call as Chrissy’s giggling turned into a wheezing guffaw. He tossed his phone unceremoniously onto the nightstand, turning back to the grinning man at his side.
“So, we could have been doing this for weeks?”
“Afraid so, sweetheart.” Eddie threw the sheet aside once more, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. “If it’s any consolation I had no idea.”
“You know what? I’m glad we found each other on our own.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhmm,” Steve hummed, swinging a leg over Eddie’s hips to settle in his lap, the possibility of going for a round two already in the back of his mind. “My own special delivery, right to my door. It’s a much better story.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, amusement making his eyes sparkle in the dim light. “Are you sure it’s not because now they can’t lord it over us that they set us up and we hit it off?”
Steve shrugged, leaning in to lick across Eddie’s mouth, wondering idly how long the appropriate time to wait would be before he could ask him to move in. 
“That’s a pretty good perk too.”
Many thanks to @penny00dreadful and @sidekick-hero for all your beta work, cheerleading, and handholding! 💜
Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @sidekick-hero @firefly-party @bookworm0690
@wonderland-girl143-blog  @goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad
@hitlikehammers
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sc00ps-ahoy · 2 years ago
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its kinda weird watching something with canonically gay characters when im used to having to make them gay myself.
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bellarkeselection · 1 year ago
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The Venus Muse
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Princess Y/n has no desire to be just some man's wife. She wishes to explore the world and all the way up to the stars. And she may get her once in a lifetime chance when her mother, Queen Charlotte invites the Bridgerton family to the castle. The artistic Bridgerton son might possibly sweep the princess off her feet.
1 - Welcoming the Bridgerton’s
2 -Interesting Conversations
3 - Escaping with a Bridgerton
4 -
???
Comments really appreciated ❤️
Tag list - just ask to be added @abq654 @your-musicguru @imgondeletedis @eruannaaa-blog @cherrylovers-world @benedictbridgertonss @callmedarlingsstuff @carrotcaratsworld @sillynilly27 @emmampl-blog2 @bright-molina @erynel1zasworld @ynbutbetter @stranger-chan @blckbarbiedoll @sanaar3006 @urmoom12345 @ritz-hell-hotel @ritz-hell-hotel
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yearningagain · 8 months ago
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it's enough (to make a girl blush)
HIIII EVERYONE so you know that fic i was asking for a beta reader for?? well i found one!! and i'd like to present the first chapter of it's enough (to make a girl blush), my first SERIOUS fic that i 100% intend on finishing!!
i'd like to thank the amazing @kayleeofcamelot for being my lovely beta reader <3
also on AO3!
wc: 1.1k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: none | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham
part two | part three
--------------
"God, fuck- alpha, please ..." Steve begs, sat upon a man's toned, yet lean thigh, grinding and rutting against it as he chased his high. The man chuckled darkly, his hands coming to grip Steve's hips, tight enough that Steve knows there will be bruises, guiding him along roughly.
With barely open eyes, he managed to peek at the hands that would surely leave marks come morning. Dark tendrils of tattoos that stretched from the man’s second knuckle and up his arms. Fingertips calloused and dexterous, nails bitten and paint chipped, and almost every finger has more than two silver rings adorning it, save for his right hands ring finger. No, that finger holds only one ring. An aged, loved, golden band with three small red crystals set in a line.
Small gasps left Steve's lips, every roll of the omega’s hips pressed his cocklette deliciously against the fabric of the omega's thin shorts. Both pants had surely been ruined by the amount of slick that poured out of him, but he couldn't make himself feel bad about it, even if he tried. Something inside him, his omega , told him that the alpha was having just as much fun as he was.
"Ah- ‘M close, alpha..." Steve pants, head feeling pleasantly fuzzy. He could smell how his own scent had changed, the spiced apple scent turning into something heady and thick. Suddenly, he got hit with the most divine scent in the world. Campfire smoke and pine, a hint of petrichor and old books. Home- a whispered thought. It almost sent him over the edge.
Almost.
Then, all of a sudden, everything felt wrong . It was as if he was floating away from his body, his mind a balloon escaping a child's loose clutch. He couldn't smell the alpha, just his own scent turning sour and rotten. The cool sensation of the man's rings where they pressed into bare skin suddenly spread all over, no longer comforting, but as if ice water had engulfed him. Something nagged at him, though, in the back of his mind. Something like a spark, settling into the omega and igniting coals to keep him warm and happy.
And Steve opened his eyes.
Steve glared at himself in the mirror, bare in preparation for a shower. There were no marks, no evidence of anything happening. One more glance over his entire body confirmed that there was nothing left of the alpha. It was a simple wet dream. The only thing that kept him from dismissing the dream entirely was his strong disappointment when he woke up alone, and the low thrum of energy he could feel stemming from his inner omega. (And the slick-soaked sheets he'd have to deal with later.) If he focused hard enough, he could almost hear the whispering rumble of "Mate. Alpha. Mate. Alpha."
He shook himself from his stupor and hopped in the shower. What did it mean, this newfound warmth over someone he'd apparently made up in his mind? Was he really that lonely? No, of course not. 
(Yes. He was.)
After turning over question after question in his mind only to come up blank, he sighed. He'd have to talk to Robin about this. 
Reluctantly set in his decision, he got out of the shower and patted himself dry, threw his hair up in a towel, and put on a fresh pair of sweats. Throwing a glance at his alarm clock, it read 9:57 AM . Robin should be awake by now, hunched over their dinky coffee machine with her eyes still closed and dried drool on her chin. 
It was Sunday, so Robin didn't have class and the bakery Steve worked at, Claudia's Cakes , was closed for the day. He figured he could take her out to lunch. Maybe the deli two doors down from the bakery? He had been having a craving for their Cubano recently. 
Stepping out of his room and shuffling to the kitchen, Steve found Robin exactly like he thought, arms braced on the counter to pillow her resting head. The coffee machine gurgled away, the strong scent mingling with Robin’s earthy strawberry aroma.
"Morning, Robs."
A small groan is all he got in response. He chuckled softly and fetched the sugar and creamer, setting it on the counter next to his best friend's birds nest of bed head. Taking his place at their table, he opened up his phone to check his messages (mostly from Dustin talking about some band he found online).  Soon, Robin slumped into the chair across from him, a mug of coffee placed in front of him as she sipped on her own. Now that she was actually awake, she looked at him with a curious expression.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Steve asked her.
She hummed, taking a calculating look. "No, nothing on your face. You just... you smell different. Not bad different! Just different, like instead of cinnamon apple cake, you smell like roasted apples. And honey? What's up with that?" 
Steve is surprised she doesn't spill her coffee all over the place with how she flings her arms around, emphasizing her question with a pointed finger and finally slamming her mug down.
"I don't know, dude.” Another glare from her. "I really don't! Anyways, did you want to grab lunch at the deli today? My treat."
Sighing and giving him one last glare, she shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I’ve been meaning to stop by the record store, could we swing by on the way back?”
Steve threw a pointed glance to their overflowing record crate below their old record player, a housewarming gift from Robin’s mom. She huffed in response, crossing her arms and mumbled “I just want to look.”
Crimson painted her cheeks and she avoided his gaze, which was all Steve needed to know. He knew Robin had made a friend (or crush rather) in her music theory class at UIC, and she and Steve were basically some sort of cosmic twins, and he knew all of her tells. So when he asked if he’s finally going to meet her, she really shouldn’t be that surprised. She still looked up at him with wide eyes, dropping her arms to the table. Another pointed look from Steve and she relented, “She told me to stop in when I could because she wants to show me this really cool limited edition vinyl the store got in recently and she looked so pretty when she asked, Steve. She had these pigtails and she was wearing this eyeshadow that made her eyes pop and she was wearing the skirt I told you about, the one with the hearts? Yeah, that one! And her sweater was, like, four sizes too big and she looked tiny! Anyways, how could I possibly say no when she looks like that?! She batted her eyelashes at me, Steve. Don’t give me that look.”
The omega simply sighed, shook his head fondly, and stood up. 
“Be ready in an hour, Buckley.”
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little-annie · 8 months ago
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Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild for the prompt and @eyesofshinigami for the brain worm 🪱 our conversation created.
Did you know in fan fic writing the term Rubber Ducking refers to bouncing ideas off of each other/ brainstorming with friends? Well I didn't. I thought it was a sex thing.
From that, this idea was born.
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Rubber Ducking | M | 873 WC | Steddie | Buckingham
It was a cold February night when the first sighting occurred. The air in the apartment had felt different. Charged with an electricity Robin couldn't explain.
Something was happening. And at first she had thought it was an anomaly, then maybe a coincidence. 
But then it kept happening. 
Those black empty eyes met hers and mere hours later the sound of the city was lost to the wails of the night.
It sounded like torture.
Like the stripping of flesh and bones.
But even more horrifically, Robin learned it was anything but.
Sure, there was flesh and bone, but how Steve apparently getting absolutely railed by Eddie in the next room over had any connection to the rubber ducky that ended up on the living room coffee table every so often, Robin hadn't the slightest clue.
She just knew that unfortunately there had to be one.
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A few weeks later, sitting at the breakfast bar and trying to ignore the low hanging neckline of Chrissy's already frankly obscene tank top, Robin notices the presence of yet another rubber ducky.
This one donning a Sailor's hat and suit. Similar to the one she remembers her and Steve wearing in their days at Scoops Ahoy. 
Not twenty minutes later she's met with Eddie asking if she knows where Steve hid his old uniform. Regrettably she tells him, and that night goes to bed taking precautionary measures with foam plugs in her ears.
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The following week there's a light blue ducky on the coffee table instead, then a grey ducky the week after. Then after a few more weeks there's what appears to be a leather daddy ducky. 
Sometimes in between there's a plain normal rubber ducky.
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“You figure it out yet?” Chrissy asks one evening, plopping down onto the couch next to Robin and setting her feet in her lap.
God what she wouldn't do for this girl and her polka dot pink fuzzy socks.
Looking over at the boys who are now apparently disgustingly in love, and currently trading lazy kisses and giggles back and forth in the loveseat, Robin sighs, “Unfortunately.”
She nearly had the code cracked before a drunken Steve had told her what it all meant.
Original Ducky = Someone is horny.
Sailor Ducky (Sir Butterscotch) = Someone wears the Scoops uniform. 
Light Blue (Richard) = Someone wants to give / receive head.
Grey (Bari) = Someone wants to be tied up/do the tying up.
Leather Daddy = "You really don't want to know Robin.”
So essentially flagging, she figures, but with various types of rubber duckys, which is horrific in its own way.
Now when one of them is feeling it, they pick a rubber ducky of their choosing and leave it out on the coffee table as a subtle way of asking for the represented attention.
“Sex Duck,” Robin sighs, leaning her head against the back of the couch, turning to look at Chrissy, “They have a fucking sex duck.”
“Like that show with the sex mug?”
“Like the show with the sex mug.” She answers flatly 
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Sure seeing the ducks at home was bad enough, but when they started appearing in the wild it was so much worse.
First in Steve's car on the dash, then Eddie's van, then one day at work when Eddie came sauntering in and pulled a light blue ducky from his pocket, tossing it in Steve's direction before walking off towards the employees only bathroom.
They think they're subtle, but really they're not.
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It's just another Tuesday evening when a new ducky makes its way onto the coffee table in the living room. Traditional like the first, but donning a pink bow and black painted on lashes. Feminine. Cute.
Like a game, Robin's began trying to decipher the meaning behind every duck before Steve inevitably tells her. It helps her cope with the trauma. 
This one though, makes her wonder. 
Sitting on the couch staring probably a little too intensely at the newest addition to the boys collection, Robin hardly notices when Steve plops down beside her.
She startles when she notices him, his voice catching her off guard. “Whatcha doing?”
“Trying to figure out what kink of yours this little lady represents.”
Steve hums and Eddie joins them shortly after, settling in the rocking chair across from them, giving the ducky the same odd look Robin had been moments ago.
“Whatcha doing, Buck?”
She gestures to the duck, “Figuring out her deal.”
Feminization maybe?
“Chrissy?” Eddie asks
“What?” Robin looks up from those cute long lashed eyes, “No. Your duck.”
Next to her Steve huffs a laugh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the couch. “Not our ducky, Rob.”
What?
“Course it is.”
“Not our ducky, Babe.” Eddie repeats Steve's words.
It has to be. “Well it's not mine.” Robin grumbles.
“No, no Rob it's not.” Steve nudges Robin's knee with his, “Maybe it's meant for you though.”
No.
No?
Looking far too excited, Eddie smirks, “Chris is in her room isn't she?”
Well… it… it wouldn't hurt to check would it? Maybe the boys are just teasing her, playing a game. But on the off chance they're not…
“You gonna go get your girl, Rob?”
Jesus Christ, she's going to, isn't she?
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spicysix · 2 years ago
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i was a no (never 'maybe'?)
"Robin takes her by the waist with one hand as the other reaches her face for a caress. Their eyes meet and Chrissy smiles before tilting forward. Her skin is silky smooth and as their lips meet there are fireworks- “Whatcha’ doin’?” Eddie’s voice is right by her ear. ❀ She’s pressed against a door, and Chrissy’s hands are on both sides of her head. She smells citric, her hair’s up in that cheerleader ponytail with the bow to make it better. Her lips are glossy, and Robin knows they taste of berries, and she confirms it once Chrissy leans in and their lips meet. There are fireworks- “What are you doing?” Robin wakes up from her daydreaming with Nancy’s voice behind her." or: Robin has a chronic problem of daydreaming about her crush.
warnings/tags: pining, friends-to-lovers, farmer market!AU, Robin is gay and oblivious, everyone else is gay and a meddler, fluff!! word count: 3.8k author's note: happy buckingham taking over jargyle jursday - so i guess it's Buckingham Bursday? anyway. and happy pride! 💚🏳️‍🌈 entirely based on the song and music video of 'chance' by Hayley Kiyoko (lesbian Mother yayyyy). you decided this one, remember that poll? heh, thanks for that. also shoutout to the ST rarepairs discord server for the help coming up with what everyone in this farmer market sells. hope y'all like it, happy reading! ♡
↳ ao3
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Robin takes her by the waist with one hand as the other reaches her face for a caress. Their eyes meet and Chrissy smiles before tilting forward. Her skin is silky smooth and as their lips meet there are fireworks-
“Whatcha’ doin’?” Eddie’s voice is right by her ear.
“SHIT!” she shrieks, startled, before turning to face Eddie as he has a knowing smirk on his lips. Steve is behind him, trying to hold in his laughter. “I’m not doing anything!” she defends herself even if she knows they’re not gonna buy it.
“If you’d just let us meddle, you’d be together by now,” Eddie says as he shrugs.
Robin’s eyes go back to where they were just a few seconds ago. Chrissy is now talking to a client, a candle in their hand as she tries to make a sale. Robin knows that one, it’s the Lemon Meringue. Robin has three of them. The client should buy it, even if the delicious refreshing citric smell is not what makes them, Chrissy’s smile should do it. It’s what does it for Robin, anyway.
“I’m not gonna let you two idiots meddle. Either this will happen by god’s own will, fate’s written words, me growing metaphoric lesbian female balls, or it won’t happen at all!” she answers without taking her eyes off of the client putting down the Lemon Meringue and picking up the Passionfruit Martini. An excellent choice too. Robin once had six of them from when Chrissy started trying them out. She’s down to just one now, finally.
A loud bleat interrupts her train of thought, and Eddie’s screaming goat scares Hennifer Aniston and she starts cackling loudly as well.
“Jesus Christ, get out of here with your Baphomet,” Robin shoos Eddie and he laughs before pulling the rope around the goat’s neck. Robin picks up the chicken, Hennifer’s a very cuddly one so she calms down once she’s in Robin’s arms.
“This one’s Phillip, babe, you’re mixing them up,” Eddie says.
“They all look the same and you know it!” Robin fights back and he just waves a hand in the air, not caring about Robin’s antics. He knows she’s just mad because he’s a meddler.
“So do your chickens, by the way,” Steve notes as Robin puts Hennifer back in her little playpen.
“They do not! Stop siding with your boyfriend, don’t you have jam or pies or cakes to sell or whatever?” she retorts once again and Steve laughs. “You gay people don’t take care of your own lives and want to meddle in mine! Absurd!”
“We’re bisexual, don’t erase our sexualities! You’re gay people too, Bobbin, and my love life isn’t disastrous as yours is so I could be a good adviser.” He shrugs before leaving a few bills on Robin’s counter and picking up a tray of eggs she had separated for him earlier. “But you’re right, I do have jam and pies and cakes to sell. See you later, Bobs.”
She hums at him as he leaves for his own stall. The peak rush hours are closing in and Robin will get busy soon. She knows the chicken in a playpen gathers attention, and so does the little poster she has containing the chicken’s informations — name, age, personality. Kids love them. And the parents love the eggs, she’s been on the papers once with her high-quality chicken eggs. She’ll start getting her regulars in a few minutes and she’ll have to deal with her stall all alone because Nancy couldn’t help her in today.
Yet, she lets herself lose a few minutes more staring at Chrissy’s stall. The client is leaving with a Tangerine Drizzle — they clearly like the citric ones. Chrissy is counting the money and storing them away in her little detailed wood box, an Argyle Original. She doesn’t notice Robin staring, she never does.
A client approaches, and Robin lets out a sigh. She’s got work do to.
❀❀❀
She’s pressed against a door, and Chrissy’s hands are on both sides of her head. She smells citric, her hair’s up in that cheerleader ponytail with the bow to make it better. Her lips are glossy, and Robin knows they taste of berries, and she confirms it once Chrissy leans in and their lips meet. There are fireworks-
“What are you doing?” Robin wakes up from her daydreaming with Nancy’s voice behind her.
She squeals and turns around too fast, and the cornflakes in her bowl fly out and scatter around on the floor. The chickens are happy with that. Nancy is leaning against the fence, and the knowing smirk on her lips says it all.
“You really have to make a move, this is getting pathetic,” she says as Robin finishes spilling the corn.
Robin leaves the chicken coop and marks the tally on the mental note of tasks to be done.
“What’s with you bisexuals and your inability to stay away from my love life. I don’t wanna hear it from Ms. I Have A Boyfriend-In-Law.” She rolls her eyes as she starts going back to her house and Nancy follows after snorting.
“Jon and Argyle are pansexual, don’t erase their sexualities. And it’s called a polycule, by the way.”
“I’m not erasing-” Robin starts, but stops herself once she sees Nancy’s playful smile. She’s just teasing. “You people will be the death of me.”
Nancy just laughs again and they enter Robin’s house.
Chrissy’s there.
“Robin! Hi!” she greets excitedly when she turns around and sees them entering.
“Chrissy, hello,” Robin’s gotten better at not stuttering when she’s around her crushes. It took her half her life, yes, probably, but at least she’s got it now. She doesn’t ramble and babble awkwardly anymore. “Is there something I can help you with?” She’s also a professional.
“Steve asked me to get some eggs for him? Said he’s got a big order and can’t find the time to stop by himself,” she answers, that beautiful smile of hers still on her lips. Nancy is already heading to the place where the eggs are stored.
Robin narrows her eyes as discreetly as she can while her mind runs. Steve has no big orders this week. Robin knows that, because Steve lets her know every time he does, because she’s gotta separate the eggs for him. He would’ve told her about a big order.
Lying, meddling son of a bitch.
“Here it is, Chris,” Nancy shows up with two dozen eggs and Robin narrows her eyes again.
Chrissy hadn’t said how many eggs Steve asked for.
Lying, meddling sons of bitches.
“Thank you so much!” she says to Nancy before turning to Robin again, who’s just standing there acting weird. “Your birthday’s coming up, right? You’re gonna throw something?”
“Uh, yeah, next week. I don’t know, I’m not much of a partier. Maybe just a nice brunch,” she says, and Chrissy’s still looking at her with expectancy. “If I do, I’ll be sure to let you know, of course! You’re always invited.”
Robin’s answer widens her smile, and Chrissy looks down at her feet with blushed cheeks. Robin feels like screaming. She’s so fucking cute.
“What’s your favorite fragrance again?” she asks and Robin snorts.
Yours, she wants to say. She holds it in.
“Um,” she looks around.
There’s one of the Lemon Meringues on the table by the door. The last Passionfruit Martini is on her bedside table. She knows there’s a Cherry On Top somewhere in her office, and a Blackberry Cobbler in the living or the dining room. She’s been meaning to get a Tangerine Drizzle since she’s seen that client buying one that day, but she’s also been thinking a lot about a Banana Boat to replace the last one she had in the bathroom.
“Ambrosia Salad?” her answer is more of a question, because of course she can’t decide, but it seems to be enough for Chrissy. She tilts her head like a puppy dog — so adorable, really, Robin’s about to implode — and smiles again.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says. Robin’s heart is about to flutter out of her chest.
She hands the money to Nancy, who’s the one now just standing there, but she’s not being weird like Robin was, she actually has that annoying know-it-all smirk. Robin wants to strangle her.
But then Chrissy comes closer and leaves a kiss on Robin’s cheek, and maybe Robin is about to defy every single rule of the universe and become a puddle, liquefy instantly to the floor. Her cheeks are burning, and her brain seems to have short-circuited and, seriously, it’s fucked up that a single little blonde girl has so much power over her. That shouldn’t be allowed.
Chrissy leaves and Robin watches through the window as Chrissy crosses her lawn. She throws kisses to the chickens and Robin feels like she has no more place in her heart to fall in love even more, and yet she still does. Robin stares until she hops up on her bike and leaves, and she doesn’t notice Robin staring, she never does.
“Bet you wanted to answer ‘her perfume’ or something sappy,” Nancy says behind her and Robin turns around too fast, head going dizzy.
“Will you shut up!” she yells, and Nancy laughs.
“Robin, seriously. Talk to her! I could cut through the tension between you two five minutes ago.”
Robin doesn’t answer, instead, she comes up with a random topic to talk about. Jonathan’s and Argyle’s woodworking, or whatever. How’s that going? Selling lots of wood… works? Nancy lets her change the subject, because she knows Robin sucks at talking feelings, and honestly, Nancy kinda sucks at it too. With each other, at least.
“I wanted to say her actual skin smell, which is much better than any cheap or expensive perfume on the market, by the way,” she still teases back before Nancy leaves later that day, and Nancy laughs loudly and Robin lets herself giggle too.
When it doesn’t hurt like a bitch, being in love is actually kinda funny.
❀❀❀
They’re lying side by side on the grass, and their fingers are intertwined in between their bodies. Chrissy rolls to her side and so does Robin, and their noses almost touch. She’s got that pretty smile of hers that makes her blue eyes shrink until they almost disappear, her little wrinkles show how much she smiles all the time, and it makes Robin’s heart beat so fast. She leans in to kiss her, and the stars above them twinkle and there are fireworks-
“What doing?” Robin’s startled by a tiny voice beside her.
She’s sitting on the park grass, her back against a tree and she could’ve been more undercover if she had just remembered to put her sunglasses on her eyes instead of resting them on the top of her head.
“Doing nothing, Holly,” she answers, and the smallest of the Wheelers just shrugs and sits beside her on the grass.
“She’s pining. As usual,” Dustin answers, and only then Robin sees that the entire Party is there.
Holly doesn’t mind the answer, probably doesn’t even know what the word means, and just starts ripping grass out of the ground. Will and El sit close to Holly and start playing with her. Mike stands and hovers above the three of them, all knight-in-shining-armor pose.
“Huh, the babysat become the babysitters. Steve handed you the business keys?” she asks as the rest of the teenage menaces approach. “It used to be the other way around, you know? It was one guy with a gaggle of children, and now it’s one child with a gaggle of guys,” she finishes.
“Yeah, world’s funny that way, don’t try and change the subject, your pining is disgusting,” Dustin retorts and Robin rolls her eyes.
“Now the teenagers are meddling too, what have I done to deserve that?”
Robin stops looking at them, puts her sunglasses over her eyes this time, and focuses back on her initial interest. Chrissy and Heather are a few feet ahead having a picnic, far enough not to listen but close enough that Robin has a privileged view. They had picked a few flowers and Heather had weaved a few of them into Chrissy’s braided hair. She looks beautiful, like a fairy or something. Robin wants to be Heather so badly, touching Chrissy’s hair so absently, handing her flowers and basking in the late winter sun with her. If she didn’t know Heather was painfully straight, she would’ve been painfully jealous.
She swears she’s not stalking. They got here after she did. She just lost interest in the book she was reading before they appeared. But Chrissy didn’t notice her staring anyway, she never does.
“You and Chrissy have made it the entire town’s problem with your longing and yearning and lack of action. We’re obligated to see it, so you’re obligated to listen to our complaints until one of you actually goes ahead and asks the other out,” Max is leaning against the tree but Robin doesn’t tear her eye from Chrissy to look at the redhead.
“You’d be such a cute couple,” Lucas says and Robin wonders what kinds of sins she had committed to be karmically pestered by a gaggle of teenagers about her private business.
She’ll talk to the others later, tell them to get a hold of their younger siblings. They are so out of line.
“Look, you children don’t understand, okay? I don’t want to risk our friendship, because I like her very, very much. And this is a small town, and we have to see each other weekly and if things don’t work out it’ll be very awkward. There’s so much at risk, things that you kids have no idea about, and I will not! Risk them!” I won’t risk us, she wants to say.
They all look at her for a while after her heart-gutting speech. She looks back, defying them to say anything, and she’s almost sure she’s won her made-up staring challenge when they look at her with sympathy. But Erica ruins it.
“This is not about the gay thing, is it? Because, like, half of our group is part of the rainbow community, birds of a feather or whatever. Girl, we’ve been knowing.” Lucas hisses at his sister for her lack of touch, and she shrugs. “Just the facts.”
Robin takes a deep breath and starts thinking how she’ll answer that without cursing or being very rude and possibly scaring the Little Wheeler forever. Holly doesn’t deserve her rage, she’s clearly the best sibling in that family.
“She doesn’t even like me back, okay? Just the facts,” she mocks through gritted teeth. “Let’s just drop this,” is the best she can manage in a really dry tone, and she thinks it’s enough when they all go quiet again. Until Will speaks.
How did Steve manage, honestly? The man’s a saint, he’s gotta be. Kids are infuriating.
“Robin, I promise we’ll stop talking to you about this, and you don’t have to do as we say,” he says. “But, really. Just consider the possibility of talking to her. If it goes well, and I think it will, it really pays off,” he finishes and Mike, who’s still hovering and looking around as if a monster is about to appear out of nowhere, actually blushes. It’s almost cute.
Robin gives Will the smallest of smiles, that woman-love-woman to man-love-man solidarity smile, but doesn’t answer him. Doesn’t let them know that she’s considering following the advice coming from fucking teenagers (who all seem to have better love lives than she does, but that’s not the point).
Damn you, Will The Wise.
❀❀❀
She’s coming in Robin’s direction, the sun making her blonde hair shine bright and her skin glow, but her smile’s the most blinding of it all. She smiles at Robin in a way no one ever had, and it makes her warm inside. Chrissy’s finally close enough to touch, and Robin doesn’t hold herself and takes her face in between her hands. She smells of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, of laundry softener, of a flowery garden, she smells of home. Robin’s eyes almost tear up simply at the thought of her, and she can’t keep it in, she say’s ‘I love you’, and Chrissy answers, ‘I love you too’ before leaning in to kiss her, and Robin knows there are fireworks-
“Robin?” Chrissy’s voice sounds uncertain and it snaps Robin out of it.
Okay, she really is pathetic. Daydreaming about the girl while she’s talking to her, wow, this has reached a new level of absurdity.
“I’m sorry, so sorry!” she sputters, cheeks burning, hands sweating. “You were saying?”
“Just… happy birthday,” Chrissy smiles, hands Robin a gift box, but it’s such a small smile. A shy one, not good-shy, but fearful-shy. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Robin can only nod, and she hands the gift box to Steve so he can keep it safe for her. No one around her is making any noise, and she knows they’re being watched by all these meddlers, so she glances at Joyce before turning to Chrissy again.
“Inside,” she almost whispers, before turning around and heading for the Byers’ house.
They’re having her birthday brunch there because Joyce’s porch is the best and her backyard is one of the only ones without animals or trees or woodworking stations. She also loves hosting, so it’s a win-win situation. Argyle cooked, Steve baked, Hop’s working on the barbecue and everyone’s having a great time.
Or, was. Until Chrissy appeared, made Robin’s brain stop working and now there’s that weird tension in the air. Robin knows she fucked up, she fucked up big time, but oh god, Chrissy looked so beautiful. She looked so beautiful every day, but she had such a pretty dress on today, and her hair was up in that cheerleader ponytail with a bow to make it better, and she has a shiny lip gloss that makes her lips look so kissable, and she smells of honey and coconut, and Robin wants her.
Robin wants her so badly, and Robin dreams of her when she’s asleep and when she’s awake too, and she has never wanted someone this much. And she has never known so deep inside her soul, how she can’t have someone as much as she knows she can’t have Chrissy. Robin’s not a particularly insecure woman, but she knows Chrissy would never pay her any mind.
“Why do you hate me?” Chrissy asks once they’re inside, and when she turns around to face Robin her eyes are wet.
“WHAT?” Robin yells, then cups her mouth for a second. “I’m sorry, shouldn’t have yelled, but. What?”
“I don’t understand. I keep catching you looking at me sometimes, but then you look away immediately and sometimes you look almost angry. You don’t hold big conversations with me, you seemed pissed at me that day with the eggs, and just now you weren’t even listening as I was talking.” Robin is in total shock as Chrissy starts listing things on her fingers. “It wasn’t like this! We were friends, Rob, and suddenly you started being so weird. Why invite me to your birthday if you don’t want me here?”
Yeah, they were friends and then Robin caught feelings. And apparently made it weird. Maybe she wasn’t as good with the girls she liked as she thought she was. She stopped rambling and babbling awkwardly, sure, but now she apparently shuts them out. Definitely not great either.
“Chrissy, I want you here, I do!” she says, and her voice falters because Chrissy has no idea how much Robin wants her. “I’m so sorry I made it weird, I just…” She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and remembers Will’s words. Oh wow, that’s pathetic for sure. “I don’t wanna be just your friend, Chris. I want more.”
She opens her eyes to face her demise because if she’s gonna be turned down she’s gonna take it proudly.
“You want… more?” Chrissy asks, and she takes a step further into Robin’s space.
“Yes. I like you. So much. So much, it’s pathetic.”
“You… like me?” she asks again, eyes wide open, and Robin gulps before nodding. Oh, god, here comes the blow. “Oh, Robin.”
Robin has no time to ask ‘what?’ because Chrissy throws her arms around Robin’s neck and their lips touch.
For real.
There are no fireworks, actually.
Fireworks are deafening loud, they’re bright and blinding. They jet, they spiral, they splatter. They can be scary, they’re everywhere and they’re overwhelming, and they’re too much sometimes. Just like Robin is most times. Loud, spiraling, everywhere, and overwhelming. Too much.
Chrissy’s kiss is not too much. It’s just enough.
It’s calm, and it’s relaxing, and it’s giving and giving and giving, but it’s receiving just as much. It’s stillness in a once stormy ocean, it’s silencing of all the high-pitched sounds that can be deafening, it’s thrilling in a way that makes Robin’s heart stump loud but rhythmically. Robin’s body loosens up, tension and anxiety leaving her, brain going quiet in, for once, a good way. She’s not overwhelmed, her senses aren’t screaming at her, she’s focused on the present moment. Chrissy tastes of fruit, of course she does, and she smells of home because it’s what she is. Her skin is warm as Robin holds her with no intention of letting her go, but it’s nothing like her dreams.
Because it’s real. And it’s so much better.
They separate their lips but their foreheads are still touching.
“You have no idea how much Eddie and Heather have been pestering me to talk to you,” Chrissy whispers almost against Robin’s lips, and she snorts.
“Oh, I sure do.” She wants to hate her friends for being right all along, but she can’t find it in herself to be anything but insanely happy.
“We’ve been two blind idiots, haven’t we?” Chrissy giggles, and it’s angelic as a sound can be, and Robin wants to crack Chrissy’s ribs open and live inside her chest. She nods at Chrissy’s question.
“I was so sure you didn’t like me,” she admits. “I looked at you all the time, daydreaming of this all the time. Reality’s so much better.” She tightens her grip around Chrissy’s waist to prove her point, to prove to herself it’s real.
“You didn’t see me staring right back.” It’s not a question, because the answer is obvious.
“I was too much of a blind idiot to see it, apparently.” She smiles and she leans in and she kisses Chrissy again. Because, oh god, she can do that now.
“But you see it now?” Chrissy asks.
“My eyes are wide open, Chris. And I see you now.”
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steddie-island · 8 months ago
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UPDATE: Reblogs are being turned off because the account is gone. Heads up writer friends this blog just popped up. It looks like they're trying to follow writers in the fandom.
I had to search the actual URL to find and block them (https://www.tumblr.com/ stfandomgossip just remove the space)
Blogs like this are just looking to stir shit. We absolutely don't need this.
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thefreakandthehair · 2 years ago
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The thing about drinking at 31 years old is that it's different from drinking at 18 years old– or 21 years old, or even 25 years old. Each shot, each drink, is one sip away from a terrible night’s sleep and an equally terrible morning.
Eddie Munson’s figured this out. Steve Harrington though? Steve Harrington has not. 
That’s how Eddie finds himself corralling his husband onto the couch after stumbling into the house, the front door slamming loud enough to jolt their cat out of her otherwise peaceful slumber. She glares for a moment before stretching her paws and curling back into a neat little ball. 
“Okay, okay, okay,” Steve repeats, an immediate tell that he’s definitely not making it any further than the couch anyways. “I’m good, I’m fine, this– this is a nice couch.” He punctuates his thought by slapping the cushion and laughing. 
Eddie shakes his head and grins. “Yep, it sure is. You picked it out, remember?” 
Steve gasps and laughs some more, falling back into the corner of the sectional. “I don’t but it’s comfy so if I did, I did a good fucking job.”
He watches with fond comfortability as Steve squirms around on the couch and lays back, arms over his head and dopey laugh still on his lips. It takes a lot of willpower and frankly, respect, not to climb on top of this giggly, flushed, disheveled man he loves so goddamn much and kiss him until he’s flushed for other reasons, but he digs deep and focuses on doing the next best thing: taking care of him. Eddie’s a little worse for the wear in his own right but a sliver of his iron constitution remains from his wild youth and he hangs on by a thread. 
Eddie gets Steve situated into a comfortable position, his back against one side of the cushions and his head propped up on a few pillows to make sure he doesn’t end up with his face smushed into the corner somehow. 
“I’m good, I’m fine– hey, hey, what are you doing?” Steve slurs and Eddie looks up from his position at the end of the couch, his fingers moving quickly as he unties Steve’s sneakers. 
“Taking your shoes off? You can’t sleep in your jeans, Stevie. You’ll thank me tomorrow.” 
Steve hums from somewhere high in his throat but doesn’t say anything else Eddie moves to unhook his belt. 
“Stop–stop it, hey, I’m married!” Steve smacks Eddie’s hand and Eddie barely suppresses a cackle. “You’re hot and all but I’m married and my husband’s hotter than you anyways.” 
With that, Eddie can’t stop himself. Warmth spreads through his chest as he laughs, from his heart all the way down to the tingling in his toes. Even drunk, even with his eyes closed, Steve would still choose him without a thought and sure, after all these years, it shouldn’t come as a surprise but it does. Because Steve is Steve, and Eddie is Eddie, and Eddie still hasn’t figured out what huge karmic debt he must’ve paid for them to have become SteveAndEddie.
He stares at Steve who’s nearly asleep but feebly muttering words like “hot,” and “perfect,” and “lucky.” 
“Hey, hey, Stevie, open your eyes for a second?” Eddie brushes the hair back from his forehead, gently shifting it away from his bloodshot, glossy eyes. He’s beautiful, even like this, what the fuck?
“Oh,” Steve’s eyebrow unfurrow and the right side of his mouth turns up into a small grin. “It’s you. Hi, Ed.” 
“Hi, Steve.” Eddie chuckles and kisses his forehead. “Gonna get your jeans off so you can sleep, okay?” 
“Mhm, yeah, that’s– thanks.” 
Eddie coaxes them off, tossing them onto a chair where they’ll remain until the next morning, and sets a glass of water down on the coffee table for when Steve inevitably wakes up with cottonmouth. One more soft kiss and an even softer blanket later, Steve is out and Eddie tip toes up the stairs to bed. 
The next morning, Eddie wakes to see Steve next to him. At some point, he must’ve woken up and gotten himself to bed which gives Eddie the opportunity to stare uninterrupted in the silence of their bedroom. It stands in stark contrast to the boisterous night before– the loud music and jumping bodies and Chrissy popping a bottle of champagne in celebration of Robin saying yes, as if there’d ever been a doubt. 
Steve’s on his back, the sun just starting to intrude on their tranquility. He takes in Steve’s features, the same ones he’s memorized time and time again but that never fail to stun him just the same. The moles, the freckles, the scars that make him ache and feel thankful simultaneously. The strong line of his jaw, the eyelashes that flutter as he sleeps, that one tendril of hair that insists on curling until Steve forces it into place. Eddie’s seen a lot of the world now, having traveled a bit with his band, and there’s nothing that compares to the man sleeping next to him. 
Even if he’s snoring. 
When Steve does eventually wake up, trudging downstairs with one eye open and asking why Long Island Iced Tea’s even exist, Eddie’s ready with the necessities– a black iced coffee, two sausage, egg, and cheese sandwiches delivered to their doorstep, and a Gatorade for himself. 
“You’re the fucking best, you know that?” Steve smiles through the pounding headache as he sips his coffee and tears into the sandwich. 
“Eh, I try,” Eddie grins with a mouthful of egg and leans over to bump their shoulders together. 
Comfortable quiet drapes over them like the blanket from last night still over the back of the couch, and like the jeans hanging off the recliner– little reminders of the night before and of the domesticity of the life they’ve built together. 
Once Steve finishes his sandwich, their cat, Florence, hops up on the table and starts batting at the rolled up wrappers. 
“Think she wants to play,” Steve grumbles, sliding off the couch and laying on the carpet. “Listen, Florence, you know I love you but kid, I cannot play right now. I’m barely alive.” 
Eddie doubles over and nearly spits Gatorade all over the coffee table. Even their terrible, hungover, washed up mornings aren't all that bad.
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shaylogic · 1 month ago
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buckingham-ashtray · 6 months ago
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instead of “will you marry me”, I want to be asked “Afghanistan or Iraq?”.
(and then I would really start to cry and choke out “Afghanistan” in an absolute teary mess.
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hbyrde36 · 8 months ago
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Midsummer Nights (a.k.a Summer Camp Fic)
It's finally here! This one has been percolating for a while, and I'm so glad to have the start of the story written and out there. Updates might be a little sporadic until my Steddie big bang is complete, but I'm so excited to finally give this fic some attention!
WC: 3154 | R: Explicit (eventually) | Ch 1/15 | AO3
Chapter 1
Steve had been a camper at Sunset Lake since almost before he could remember. 
He was seven that first summer, and hadn’t spent more than a night away from his own bed before, for sleepovers with family or childhood friends. 
Regardless, his parents didn’t hesitate to dump him off in the middle of nowhere upstate for the full eight weeks the camp ran, with total strangers, many of whom were hardly more than kids themselves, the second he was old enough to attend. From then on, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington spent their own summers partying it up at the country club, pretending they didn’t have a son. 
It used to hurt, having the fact that they didn’t give a shit about him shoved so blatantly in his face. When he was still young and hopeful he would wait patiently by the front gates every visitor’s day, hoping that the next car full of visiting parents and family would be for him. 
It never was.
And by the time he turned eleven, he had stopped waiting. 
He also stopped signing up for activities that he had chosen only to impress his dad, like tennis, basketball, rock climbing—even if he was good at them—and instead began to fill his days with art, theater, and music. Anything that caught his interest, even if he was terrible at it. 
Suddenly he lived for those eight weeks of summer that used to leave him feeling so lonely and unloved. Knowing it was the one place, the one time of year, where he could be the most himself. And he was too busy with performances and showing off the projects he’d completed on visitor’s days to think too much about the fact that no one ever came to see him. 
That was how he met Robin, his best friend and platonic soulmate. They were twelve and had both auditioned for roles in Shakespeare in the Summer, a series of famous scenes from the playwright's works, a pet project of the counselor who ran the theater department meant to be the big final show at the end of camp that year. They got the roles of Romeo and Juliet, respectively. 
As they rehearsed he developed a very small, but still very embarrassing crush on his co-star and eventually confessed, knowing he would feel guilty about kissing her if she didn’t know how he felt. 
Robin broke it to him gently, explaining that while she’d grown to like him a lot, as a friend, over the time they’d been working on their scene together, he just wasn’t her type. 
The last bit was said with a particular significance, but Steve, oblivious to what she was so subtly trying to convey, had protested that he was everyone’s type. She’d rolled her eyes and given him a fond, if exasperated, smile, and after swearing him to secrecy, put it in plain terms he could understand. 
She was a lesbian. 
Robin liked girls, exclusively, and her tastes ran long in soft skin, cherry red lips, and blonde ponytails—all of which Steve, for better or worse, lacked.
It was the 90’s, and the world was slowly changing, so it wasn't as if Steve had never heard of gay people before… it's just that he had never met one in real life. He accepted her immediately, his crush gone in a flash like it had never existed, and felt a kinship with her snap into place that he didn’t quite understand at the time, but was so obvious looking back. 
In the end they faked the kiss. Steve grabbed Robin’s face with both hands and all the faux passion he could muster, slipping his thumbs between their lips at the last second to keep them from crossing that particular line, and she had trusted him to do it. 
They were inseparable from that day forward. 
As promised, he kept her secret, and exactly one year later after coming to terms with a few realizations of his own—namely that he wasn’t as straight as he assumed, that in fact, he wasn’t sure he actually liked girls at all—when he confessed a secret of his own as they walked along the edge of the lake before curfew, he knew she would do the same for him.
This summer they were eighteen, part of the graduating class of 1999, on the brink of college, and finally old enough to be hired as full fledged counselors with paychecks and days off and everything. 
Not that it paid much, but Steve wasn’t in it for the money. He was in it for the love of the place. Sunset Lake Camp had become a second home to him over the last decade of his life, his real home, and the people there like family. There were always a few new faces that came and went, but most of the kids and staff alike came back year after year like him.
Robin was mainly in it for Steve, excited at the prospect of getting to spend the entire Summer with him for once instead of the single session, two short weeks, she was used to—all her folks had been able to afford each year growing up. 
It was poised to be the best summer of Steve’s life. 
Then he met Eddie. 
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Pre-camp was exactly what it sounded like. A full week of cleaning, painting, maintenance, and general setting up of the place before the first crop of kids was set to arrive. It wasn’t mandatory for the staff, and some counselors wouldn’t even arrive until the day before the first session began, but it did come with an extra paycheck and the opportunity to get out of his parents house that much sooner. 
Steve was so in.
And naturally, that meant Robin was too.
They both arrived mid afternoon. Steve had driven himself in his beloved second hand BMW all the way from Hawkins, his excitement mounting as the scenery changed, flat boring highways finally giving way to lush green rolling hills and mountains, the roads eventually going from asphalt, to crushed stone, to dirt as he turned onto camp property and made his way to the employee parking lot. Robin arrived just after, her parents' car rolling to a stop next to his while he was still unloading his duffel bags from the trunk.  
Steve had offered to pick her up on his way so they could ride in together, it wouldn’t have added that much time to his own trip, but Mr. and Mrs. Buckley would never give up the opportunity to see their only daughter off for the summer, no matter how old she was. They were good parents, and just plain good people.
Robin was horribly embarrassed by the sheer number of hugs they gave her, and Steve, before finally getting back in their car to head home, and he couldn’t help wondering if she knew how lucky she was. His own parents had hardly looked up from their coffee when he’d said goodbye to them that morning.
“How was the drive?” Robin asked with her face squished against Steve's chest, as he pulled her in for his own bone-crushing hug. God he fucking missed her. Emails and once a week phone calls just weren’t enough. Damn long distance fees.
“Long, boring, the usual.” He said, pulling away from her reluctantly. 
In truth he didn’t mind the long journey. It was nice getting to shut his brain off, and sing along at full volume to whatever songs had made it on American Top 40 with Casey Kasem that week.
The low rumble and put-put-put of an old engine had them both looking up, signaling the arrival of Director Hopper in his ancient pickup truck, its tires kicking up dirt and rocks no matter how slowly he drove. 
The truck rolled to a stop in front of them, and the man behind the wheel leaned out the open window to wave. “Long time no see, kids!”
“Hop,” Robin whined, “we’re not kids anymore.”
“Oh! My apologies—Miss Buckley, Mister Harrington.”
Steve wrinkled his nose. “Okay, now you're just being mean.”
Hopper threw his head back and laughed, before stepping out of the truck. “You know you’ll always be kids to me.”
After another round of hugs the man helped load their stuff up into the back, then helped both of them climb up on top of their piled luggage.
As the truck bumped along slowly towards the north side of the campus, where the bunks were, Hopper slid open the back window of the truck so he could shout out to them.
“Me and Joyce got two of the cabins fixed up already so you-all have someplace clean to sleep tonight. One for the women, one for the men.” Hopper’s eyes narrowed as he stared them down through his rearview mirror. He, along with almost everyone else, thought they were dating and had been for years. If he only knew how wrong he was. “Dinner is at six tonight in the dining hall, and I suggest you settle in and relax till then. The real work starts tomorrow.”
“You sure you don't need help with anything today?” Steve asked, sticking his head through the little window to make sure the older man could hear him.
“Thanks kid, but I got it covered. All that’s left today really is picking up a few international staff from the airport. I would have been on my way there already, but the flight got delayed, not due in till late tonight now.”
It was one of Steve’s favorite things about this place, getting to meet and make friends with all sorts of people from all over the world. The cultural exchange program that the camp worked with brought in support staff and counselors from other countries that wanted to come work for the summer, many of them visiting America for the very first time.
Soon enough they came to the end of the road, hooking a left through a break in the trees and came out into a huge clearing. Two giant half circles made up of small white and green buildings faced each other, with a wide open field between them where, in a week’s time, kids would be found lounging around on towels and blankets in the sun, or throwing frisbees and baseballs to each other during their free period. 
Hopper pulled over on the girl’s side, which was fair—if sexist—considering Robin had more stuff than Steve did, and got them unloaded before quickly heading off with a reminder about dinner.
Robin slid her backpack on and began to drag her small trunk up the old wooden steps of the cabin. 
Steve heaved her big duffel bag over his shoulder and moved to follow, but she spun abruptly, letting the trunk drop, slapping a hand hard against his chest before his foot even made contact with the lowest board. 
“Woah, woah, woah, where do you think you’re going?” She asked.
“Seriously? I’m just trying to help you with your stuff!” 
“Yes, seriously! You know boys aren't allowed in the girl’s cabins!” She whispered boys as though it were a dirty word.
Steve snorted. “I’m pretty sure those rules are for the campers, Rob, not us, and what could possibly happen?! There’s no two people on the planet less likely to hook up than you and me.”
“Yeah but people don’t know that, Harrington!” 
She was right. As much as camp had always been Steve's safe haven, his sexuality was still something he felt the need to hide, as did Robin. They just couldn’t be sure how their peers would react, and he wanted to believe Hopper would be accepting and open minded but what if he wasn’t? What if he fired them, or used it as an excuse not to invite them back to work next year, because parents might freak out if they knew their children were being ‘exposed to the gays’? 
Steve couldn’t lose this place, for that reason or any other. 
He tossed her bag up the short staircase and onto the porch, letting his shoulders slump in defeat.
“Don’t pout. I just don't want to get in trouble on our first day,” Robin said.
“Yeah, me either,” he agreed.
“Good. Now move along to your own bunk.” She dropped her voice down low, looking around before she spoke again, wriggling her eyebrows. “I’m sure Jonathan will be around to help you get settled in.”
“You’re never gonna let me live that stupid crush down, are you?” 
“Nope.”
“It was two years ago!” Steve hissed.
“I still say you had a chance.”
Steve sighed heavily. “Even if he wasn’t straight—” he began but Robin cut him off with a judgy stare.
“You don’t know that.” She said.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “But even if he wasn't, I told you, I'm not getting in the middle of whatever on-again off-again dance he and Nancy are doing.”
Robin tilted her head from side to side. “That’s fair. She scares me.”
“Me too.”
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Jonathan was, as a matter of fact, already at the men’s temporary cabin, greeting Steve with a hug and everything, and offering to help him carry his stuff inside. Not that he’d be telling Robin any of that. 
His brief crush had been nothing short of awkward. They’d known each other since they were little, Jonathan’s mom being the camp nurse, and Hopper becoming his and his brother Will’s stepfather a few years ago, and out of nowhere Steve couldn’t even have a conversation with the guy without blushing and stuttering. Thankfully, the other boy’s sad little puppy dog eyes didn’t really do anything for him anymore.
They talked a little, making the usual catching up small talk that you do with people you know well but maybe aren't truly friends with, and soon were joined by a new face, fresh off a days long road trip from California. 
Argyle greeted Steve and Jonathan like they were all long lost pals. He had the longest, shiniest hair, the most colorful wardrobe Steve had ever seen, and his smile was infectious. He also absolutely reeked of weed, and within minutes had talked Jonathan into taking a walk in the woods with him to “open their minds”. It was clear the two stoners were well on their way to becoming best friends.
Steve left them to it, knowing Robin would kill him if he showed up to dinner high and smelling of smoke. 
He chose a bed by the door and started making it up, tucking the sheets in tight and tossing his ugly plaid comforter on top. There was no point in really unpacking until they got their final bunk assignments, the night before the kids came, so after pulling out a few random t-shirts, shorts, and a bathing suit, and shoving them all into one of the cubby holes built into the walls of the cabin, Steve grabbed his discman and headphones and went to lay out in the sun. 
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It was late, well past midnight and Steve had been tossing and turning for the last several hours. He never slept well on the first night of camp, the quiet always taking a little time for him to get used to, and It was no wonder he heard the soft footfalls of someone walking up the steps of the cabin.
The door opened slowly, revealing a figure painted in silhouette by moonlight. A riot of wild hair, and a guitar case slung across the boy’s back were all Steve could make out at first through his barely slitted eyelids. 
He watched, careful not to move too much and give away that he was awake as the boy quietly closed the door behind himself, and tiptoed further into the cabin, tossing his stuff down beside the bunk right next to Steve’s. It meant Steve had a perfect view of the newcomer’s backside as he bent to slide his guitar under the mattress frame and unzipped his bag. He straightened with an arm full of linens and hastily made up the bed, not even tucking the bottom corners of his fitted sheet in before throwing a quilt over the whole thing and calling it done, and began to undress. 
Steve swallowed hard, knowing he should probably look away now, or at least close his eyes, if for no other reason than to put on a better show of being asleep in case the other boy’s gaze swung his way, but he was enthralled.
The unfamiliar figure was still blanketed in shadow, but stood close enough now that Steve could make out a pair of huge sparkling dark eyes, brown he assumed, though the night had a way of stealing all the color from the world, to go with the boy’s even darker curls. A rounded nose and full pouty lips made up the rest of a face that would, Steve was fairly certain, now and forever haunt his dreams, as well as his every waking thought. 
He wanted to scream. 
He’d never felt so drawn to someone at first sight before. How much worse would it be once he saw this vision of beauty in daylight?
Powerless to resist the urge, Steve let his gaze roam down past the curve of the other boy’s jaw, eyes drinking in whatever details they could. The bob of an adams apple as he swallowed, the outline of his collarbones, black and gray markings on his chest and arms—tattoos that Steve couldn’t quite make out the shapes of. A trail of dark hair ran from his navel to the top of his pants, stark and inviting against pale white skin.
The boy reached for the button on his jeans and Steve did look away then. It was one thing to see the same skin that might be on display when someone took their top off down by the lake or at the pool, but another to ogle someone below the belt when they didn’t even know they were being watched.
Second passed and a dull thump had Steve snapping his eyes back open, grateful the other boy still had his boxers on at least, so he didn’t feel like too much of a creep. 
“Bollocks,” the stranger cursed softly, hopping on one foot for a second as he sucked air between his teeth, nursing a stubbed toe.
Steve’s stomach flipped at the sound of his voice.
International, right. He had an accent. Of course he did, obviously, Steve just hadn’t thought—
Why was that so hot?
He groaned internally, he hadn’t even properly seen the guy’s face yet and he was already absolutely fucked. 
Finally, mercifully, the other boy climbed into bed, yawning as he pulled the quilt up over his head, turning to face the other way.
And it was to the sound of this intriguing stranger’s breath that Steve finally drifted away into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 2
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Steve's Summer Mix Eddie's Summer Mix
Thanks as always to the lovely @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.
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