#don't even get me started on steve. we rock

[impala-dreamer]

forever creating new harmony lines for their songs and perfecting them just in case i get called up on stage one day...

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry.

Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.

Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 2k

Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3

Part Two. Part Three. Part Four. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.

Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.

You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.

Another rock hits your window.

You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.

"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."

"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.

You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.

"Hi, sugar."

"Hi, Steven."

He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.

"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"

"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."

You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.

"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"

He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.

"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"

You scoff.

"What? That bad?"

"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."

He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.

"I thought tonight was the big night?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."

You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.

"You always deserved so much better than him."

"Thanks, Steve."

"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."

The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.

"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."

"Because they're not good enough for you."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"

"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."

You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.

He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.

"I give up."

"With what?"

"Dating. Fuck it."

He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.

"You've barely even started."

"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."

"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."

"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."

"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."

"And you'll be fighting them off."

"Yes I will."

You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.

"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."

"Hey, some of us do know!"

"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."

"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."

"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."

"No?"

He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.

"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"

"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."

He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.

"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."

You exhale with a shudder.

"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."

"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."

You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.

"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."

He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.

"Steve?" you whisper.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"

He smiles, big and bright.

"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."

You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

"Well, then what are you waiting for?"

He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.

"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."

"Can I kiss you?"

"You don't usually ask," you tease.

It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.

"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."

You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.

"Kiss me. Please."

Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.

"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.

Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.

"Steve-"

"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."

You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.

"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"

Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.

Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.

You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.

"Babe, if you want to stop..."

"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."

You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.

"I love you too. So much."

You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.

"Let me make you feel good, okay?"

When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.

"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."

He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.

"You want more, pretty baby?"

"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."

He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.

He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.

"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."

"Stevie," you pant. "So close."

"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."

Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.

Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.

"You okay?"

"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."

"Told you the rumours were true."

You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.

He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.

"You replace it, don't you?"

"Hmm?"

"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."

He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.

"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."

You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.

"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."

"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."

"You're welcome."

Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.

The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.

The room is unchanged.

The people in it are not.

read Part Two here. Part Three here. Part Four here.

@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson

[dreamsteddie]

Once Steve and Eddie come out to the broader world, Eddie's floodgates open, and before interviewers can even think to ask about his "long-term partner and love of my life" Eddie starts gabbing about Steve almost as soon as a microphone is put near his face.

At first, Eddie refuses any and all requests to be on talk shows or long-form interviews. Steve himself has no desire to be interviewed ever, and Eddie wants the media hype to die down before he makes any big appearances off the stage. He knows that if he does the conversation will be a glorified investigation into his private life no holds bared.

So Eddie takes the occasional question after a show or on the red carpet but always dominates the conversation and finishes quickly. He's always dropping little tidbits about Steve, even if it's just talking about whether or not he was able to make the show or how handsome he looks in their matching outfits today.

Once the hype dies down and the media vultures aim their beaks at another celebrity, Eddie agrees to do a couple of talk shows with the rest of the band.

Everything is normal. The focus is on their next leg of the tour and the music video they released last week that went viral. Right up until the last three or so minutes when the interviewer asks, kindly, how his boyfriend Stevie is doing.

Stevie.

As in Eddie's Stevie.

The name only Eddie and Robin have ever called him. The name that used to make Steve flush so pretty when they first started drifting together. The name that still makes Steve give him one of those pleased little smiles that make his heart pitter-patter in his chest years later.

Eddie's hackles are immediately raised at the audacity of this stranger to talk about his boyfriend so familiarly. His shoulders rise, eyes narrowing ready to say something scathing when the rest of the band notices and steps in. Jeff drops a not-so-friendly hand on Eddie's shoulder while Freak steps in to very loudly tell a funny story about the last time Steve joined them on the road. Emphasizing "Steve" a little too much as he does.

When Eddie finally gets to stalk off stage he's let himself get worked into a tizzy. Logically, it's not a big deal but Eddie has always been territorial when it came to Steve and has been even more on edge since they came out. The idea of anyone outside of their family acting like they know them, know him, just because he's married to Rockstar Eddie Munson and shows up in the occasional gossip rag makes him so fucking mad.

As soon as he's backstage he's dialing Steve's number, impatiently running one hand through his hair as the phone rings and rings. As soon as he hears the beginning of Steve's standard WASPy "Hello, this is the Harrington-Buckley residence, Steve speaking" greeting Eddie launches into a long rant about "the audacity of media vultures."

Steve doesn't say a word the entire time, just letting Eddie vent out his frustrations. At the end, Steve lets the silence linger for a little bit before speaking.

"Hey babe?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"I don't know how to tell you this but you've been referring to me exclusively as 'Stevie' since we came out. I'm pretty sure when we made the announcement you said 'This is my Stevie. He's been my partner for six years.'"

".....what?"

"In fact, I'm sure that's exactly what you said because Robin replaced all my nametags at work with ones that said 'My Stevie' because she has the sense of humor of a middle schooler."

"God fucking damn it!"

They hang up not long after. When Eddie looks up for the first time since he dialed Steve's number he's met with the rest of the band and their personal crew all wearing various faces of exasperation.

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he rocks on the balls of his feet and says "Sooooooo...I may have overreacted."

----

The next day, despite Eddie's hopes that his outburst wasn't that noticeable, his clearly irate face is the subject of every magazine and gossip rag at the grocery store.

Robin frames her favorite one and gives it to Eddie for his birthday.

[hairmetal666]

Steve parks at Eddie's, a plastic wrapped bouquet of roses so purple they're almost black carefully buckled into the passenger seat, and a nervous twist to his stomach. He didn't plan to do this. It's just, he was agonizing about his crush to Robin and she goaded him until it seemed like a great fucking idea to ask Eddie out on Valentine's Day, of all days.

The flowers were an accident. He saw them in the front window of the little flower shop in town, and it felt like fate, like they were practically made for Eddie Munson.

With a deep breath and a gritted teeth, he swings out of the car, flowers in hand. He's doing this, he's got this, he can ask Eddie out.

Music rocks from the trailer, drowning out Steve's knock. They didn't exactly have plans tonight, only they hangout every night since Vecna, so he figured...well, Eddie never said they weren't getting together.

He's a little miffed when his knock isn't answered. Even when the music is up, the walls of the trailer vibrating, Eddie always comes to the door. But the minutes tick by with no response until the annoyance turns to anxiety.

He stretches over, up on tiptoe, craning through the window to see if he can spot Eddie, probably distracted by planning for dnd or working on a song.

The kitchen is deserted, pots steaming on the stove. The two-seater table is covered in one of those paper tablecloths they have at Melvald's for a buck, patterned with bright red hearts. The table is set, two plates, two beers, a candle burning in the center of it all.

God, he's stupid. So stupid, with his nearly black flowers and his silly crush. Of course Eddie already had someone to spend Valentine's Day with.

He stumbles down the stairs, stomach fighting up his throat. The loud music makes so much sense now. He has to leave. He can't stand the thought of Eddie finding him here, letting him down easy; can stand even less seeing him with the date he has over.

Steve almost makes it back to the car before he hears the screen door slam, Eddie's voice calling his name. For a second, he considers ignoring him; for a second, he thinks about jumping in the car and driving off and forgetting this ever happened. But he could never do that to Eddie, not even when the consequence is his own heart.

"Oh, uh. Hey, man," Steve says. He runs his fingers through his hair, swallows. "Didn't mean to interrupt, thought we had plans but I guess they weren't set in stone." He's rambling and he knows it, but can't stop. "I didn't realize you--I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie's eyes flicker from Steve to the flowers clutched in his fist, the wrapping now sweaty and rumpled. "Are those for me?" Eddie asks.

Steve's mouth open and closes a few times, thrown off the track of his monologue and trying to think of a plausible lie. "I--they're--it's--"

There's nothing for it. He has to tell the truth and eat the humiliation. "I saw them today and--They're perfect for you. So, I wanted--" he shakes his head, shoves the bouquet into Eddie's arms. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'll let you get back to your date."

Eddie's face scrunches and it would be cute except for all the way Steve's heart is breaking. "Aren't you my date?"

"What?"

"Steve. We hang out every night. I thought--"

"But. For me--" He splutters. "The table?"

"Harrington, it's Valentine's Day! You bought me flowers!"

"Yeah, cause I was going to ask you out!"

This is what breaks Eddie, and he bursts out into helpless giggles.

"Don't laugh at me, Munson." But he's starting to laugh too.

"I'm sorry! I just--you," and Eddie isn't laughing anymore, he's looking at Steve with clear, shining eyes. "You brought me flowers."

Steve sobers too, hands over the bouquet. "I brought you flowers. You made me dinner."

"Yeah." He glances up at Steve from under his eyelashes. "I made you dinner."

"Sorry for--" He gestures broadly around himself.

Eddie shakes his head, soft smile on his lips. "You're something else, Stevie." The words are so fond they make Steve's heart flip. "Now, come inside before the food gets cold."

Steve walks to do the door, pausing before he climbs the stairs.

"What is it?" Eddie's eyebrows lift.

"Nothing. Just--" Steve licks his lips, notices the way Eddie tracks the movement. "I'm really falling for you, is all."

"No duh," Eddie says with a broad, smitten grin. "You bought me flowers."

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

Baker Steve and Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part two

"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"

"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.

"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."

"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."

"I, ah, don't?"

"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, right?"

"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."

"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."

"That sounds really really great-"

"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"

The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."

Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realised Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone.

"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"

Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"

"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"

Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"

"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"

Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"

"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest," my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"

"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"

"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"

"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, i'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."

"Yeah? You mean it?"

"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."

"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great."

Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings.

"I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, what I get back..."

"I'd like that." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?". Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.

"I ah, music?"

"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though.

"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."

All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.

"Oh right, and what's the band called?"

"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."

After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.

[boyfriendstevie]

sturdy

steve wants to test out the desk he just built for you | everyone say thank you @superblysubpar for encouraging me to write this hehe | 2.7k, f!reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv. don't do it kids. 18+ as always!! mdni!!

“Babe! C’mere!” Steve calls from the spare bedroom, echoing down the hall of your new apartment. 

You’re in the kitchen, starting to unpack a few boxes there, while Steve had been working on putting together your new desk. Obviously, you’re more than capable of putting your own desk together, but Steve had offered, and, well, sometimes you have to make the patriarchy work for you. Placing the half-unpacked box of silverware onto the counter, you shout back a reply and head through the maze of boxes to the bedroom, “I’m comin’! Give me a sec!”

When you reach the bedroom, Steve’s standing in the middle of the room, hands on his hips as he looks at his handiwork. His back is to you, so he doesn’t notice when you come in, and you take a second to admire him. He’s quite the sight; wearing an old pair of gym shorts that are a bit too small for him, a well-worn shirt that might be yours — you’re not sure from this angle — and a baseball cap on backwards to keep his hair out of his face. He looks so good, and it hits you then, just how lucky you are. How lucky you are to be living with your ridiculously handsome boyfriend who offers to build things for you out of the kindness of his heart and looks ridiculously good while doing so. 

“Hon—“ the word dies on his lips as he turns around to find you standing in the doorway. A grin stretches across his face at the sight of you, making your heart flutter in your chest. “You starin’ at me, stalker?”

“So what if I was?” you ask, crossing the room so you can throw your arms over his shoulders, “I can’t admire my hot boyfriend?”

A strong arm wraps around your waist to pull you close. He hums in thought before shrugging, “I’ll allow it, I guess. If you give me a kiss.”

“Deal,” you murmur as you lean up on your toes to press your lips to his in a soft kiss. It’s short and sweet, but you don’t mind. “Thanks for building the desk, baby.”

“Anything for you, honey,” he hums quietly in reply, dipping down one more time for a quick peck on the lips. His hand rubs over the curve of your hip gently as he adds, “Hopefully it’s sturdy enough…”

“Steve, I’m sure it’s fine, as long as you followed the directions—“

“Maybe we could test it out?” he asks, giving you a cheeky grin, eyebrows raised in question. 

You snort a laugh, eyebrows furrowing together. You’re pretty sure you know what he’s getting at, but you ask anyway, “And how would we do that?”

His smile grows, looking a bit more mischievous as he turns you around and slowly begins walking you back towards the desk. You let him lead you, giggling with your hands on his shoulders, until you bump into the desk. He leans down to kiss you again, and just before your lips touch, he squeezes your hips and mutters, “Up, honey.”

It’s a messy kiss, your lips nearly missing Steve’s in the effort to get up onto the desk, even with him helping you up. You briefly wonder if this is safe — you have no doubt that Steve built the desk well, but you highly doubt that it’s made to support a whole human’s weight — but the thought quickly passes by when Steve takes your thighs into his hands and pulls you towards the edge of the desk for a proper kiss. 

Steve’s nose nudges into yours, poking at your cheek as he kisses you, lips slotting against yours. He kisses you as if he hasn’t kissed you in days, groaning into your mouth as you rock your hips forward, searching for his touch. You let out a whine when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, tongue quickly following suit to soothe the bite. 

“You know, I was— I was mostly kidding,” Steve pants when he pulls back between kisses, lips pink and wet as his tongue darts out. 

“I know,” you reply with a huff of a laugh, twisting your fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, “But you look so fucking hot, and you just built me a whole ass desk, and we fucking live together now, and— please just fuck me on the desk, baby.”

“Shit. Yeah, okay, I can do that,” he quickly agrees, not quiet believing his stupid line actually worked, and that you’re spurring him on as you wiggle your leggings down your hips and legs. The fabric gets stuck at your knees, and Steve springs into action, murmuring something about how it’s his job to undress you as he pulls at the fabric until he can drop it to the floor. 

His hands land on your thighs again, thumbs pressing to the soft flesh at the inside of your thighs as they push up towards your core, spreading your legs apart as he goes. There’s no mistaking the small damp spot in the center of your panties as you squirm under Steve’s gaze. Pressing the pads of his thumbs to the crease at the apex of your thighs, he finally looks back up to you and asks, “Can I taste you first?”

Your answer is a quiet, choked moan and a frantic nod, “Please.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice, sinking to his knees in front of the desk as he pulls you closer. It’s the perfect height for this; your burning core only inches from Steve’s hot mouth. He wastes no time in leaning forward, pressing the softest of kisses to the growing wetness there, nose nudging against your clit through your underwear. A low groan comes from deep in his chest, “Can I take these off?”

Before Steve can even finish his sentence you’re nodding again, lifting your hips off of the desk as best you can so he can pull the fabric from your body. As soon as your underwear is on the floor, he’s back on you, licking a broad stripe up your cunt that has you gasping in surprise at his eagerness, “Steve—“

“Mmm,” he hums as his tongue finds your clit, sending vibrations up your spine as he sucks softly and rolls the sensitive nub between his lips. 

It makes you keen, a high-pitched whine that might be embarrassing if you weren’t so blissed out. Your legs tremble as he kisses back down towards your dripping entrance, and your fingers twitch with the need to hold onto something. How Steve always makes you feel untethered so quickly, you’ll never know, but you remedy the problem easily, pushing his hat off of his head. It’s perfect timing on your part; your fingers rake through his soft hair just as his tongue dips inside of you, lapping at your slick. 

You pull at the strands a bit harder than you mean to and Steve moans against you. The sound isn’t quite loud enough for you to hear, but you can feel it. The sensation makes your legs close around Steve’s head, but an arm curls around one thigh before it can press against him. It doesn’t take much for Steve to push your leg back down and hold you open for him, despite how much you’re squirming. 

Steve pulls back after another sloppy kiss to your clit, lips shining with your slick and his own spit. He’s grinning, borderline smug as he nuzzles into the crease of your thigh again, nipping the delicate skin there, “Y’always taste so sweet, baby. Only fitting that my pretty girl has the prettiest pussy, huh?” 

You squirm again, this time in embarrassment, and huff a pathetic whine, “Steve, stop—“

“Well I can’t lie,” he all but giggles, pressing a kiss to your hipbone as his gaze drags up your body to meet your eyes, “Want me to keep going? Or d’ya want my cock?”

Both sound like great options, but you can see the outline of his hard cock in his slightly-too-small shorts, and you want him. Reaching down to brush some hair out of Steve’s face, you murmur, “You. Want you.”

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he smiles, sweeter this time, giving your thigh another kiss before he pulls himself up to stand. 

Your chest heaves as you reach for him, taking the fabric of his shirt into your grasp and yanking him closer for a kiss. You can taste yourself on his mouth, but you don’t really mind, especially as his hands roam up your sides, inching underneath your shirt to cup your breasts. He’s teasing again, thumbs barely brushing over your nipples. But two can play at that game, even while he’s kissing you so hard you can barely breathe, and you slip a hand between you, palming his hard cock over his shorts. 

“Okay, okay,” he pants after a moment of shaky breaths and wandering hands, “Can you— will you bend over for me? ‘S that alright?”

Instead of answering, you slide off of the desk and cup Steve’s face in your hands to give him a firm kiss. You make a show of turning around, leaning over your brand new desk until your forearms press to the wood grain. You hear a small groan from behind you as you push your hips backwards, ass pressing to Steve’s bulge, “Christ, sweetheart. How’d I get so goddamn lucky? Fuckin’ gorgeous, and all f’me.” 

Warm hands spread wide over your hips, the pad of Steve’s thumb rubbing a short line over one of the dimples in the small of your back. He gives your flesh an appreciative squeeze before his touch is gone. You huff a whine at the loss of warmth and you hear a quiet chuckle from behind you, “Relax, baby. Gimme a second.”

There’s a quiet rustle of clothing, and then Steve’s hands are back on you, pulling you back towards him. You’re about to complain, to ask him to do something, anything, when you finally feel the tip of his cock nudge against your entrance. Your breath catches as he pushes his hips forward, finally sinking into you slowly. He takes it easy, knowing that you’re plenty wet, but maybe not quite warmed up enough from just his mouth. 

He stops when the front of his thighs press against the backs of yours, fingertips dimpling your hips with how firmly he’s holding onto you. Like he’s worried you might slip away. You moan softly at the aching stretch of your cunt, dizzy with how full you feel of Steve, Steve, Steve. He’s all you want — all you can think about, “Oh f-fuuck… Stevie…”

You swear you can feel his thighs quivering against yours as he stills inside of you. You can hear the grit in his voice, picture the way his jaw is clenched, as he murmurs, “Okay?”

A shaky breath escapes your lips, and you nod emphatically, maybe a bit too quickly, voice a higher pitch than normal, “So good, baby. Move, please move, need y-yo—“

The words die on your lips as Steve draws his hips back slowly and then presses back in. Your head falls forward, mouth dropping open in pleasure with a whine. You feel hot everywhere; a warmth that starts in tummy and spreads slowly, creeping up your torso and chest, into your limbs, until it feels like your body is on fire in the best way. 

His hips roll in and out of your tight heat. It feels so good, and somehow, you still need more. Your forearms press further into the desk as you shift, pushing up on your toes to tilt your hips. You know that if you’re in just the right position, Steve will find the spot that makes you see stars. Desperate for the feeling, you shift again and hear a huff from behind you at the movement. 

Steve knows what you want, and pushes his arm underneath you, between your body and the desk. His hands press to the softness of your tummy and to the curve of your hips as he pulls you into a better position, angling your hips so he can reach even deeper. The new angle has you gasping with each thrust, a punched-out sound that you can’t help between whimpers of Steve’s name and expletives. Steve’s not fairing much better, and you can hear the low grunt he lets out every time his skin meets yours, “You’re so wet— fuck, sweetheart — y’hear that? Hear how wet you are f’me? Feel so good ‘round me, baby. So good for me.”

“Y-yes, yeah — ah, Steve! — all yours,” you babble in an attempt to answer him, though you’re too fucked out to be all that coherent. 

Seconds later, you get exactly what you’d been wanting when you’d shifted your hips; the head of Steve’s cock pressing to the spot inside of you that turns you to putty. The moment he finds it, your legs go weak, and Steve’s grasping onto you even tighter in an attempt to keep you somewhat upright. His arm curls across your midsection, and you feel his warmth against your back as he presses his chest to you. You can feel his breath, hot against the nape of your neck as he murmurs, “Right there, baby? That’s what you wanted, huh?” 

You clench around him, making the drag of his cock that much sweeter. The feeling pulls a deep moan out of Steve, sending shivers down your spine as he twitches inside of you. One of the hands on your waist pushes up under your shirt until he can press against your sternum, and then he’s pulling you almost upright. Your eyes meet his in the vanity mirror attached to the desk, and you moan at the sight; you look just as fucked out as you feel, and so does Steve. 

Lips on your neck, Steve hums, pleased, “There’s my girl. Look at yourself, honey, so so pretty on my cock, yeah?” 

“Stevie,” you whine his name, and he’s sure it’s the best sound he’s ever heard, “‘m close, ‘m so close.“ 

“Y’gonna cum on my cock for me, sweetheart? C’mon, honey, know ya can,” he says, his free hand snaking down your torso and your hips to find your clit. He circles it quickly, over and over, just how you like, and with his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you, it doesn’t take long until you fall apart with a cry of his name. 

He’s not far behind you, hips never slowing their pace, even as he bends you back over the desk. Every wave of pleasure has your cunt clenching around him, and it pushes Steve over the edge, too, with whiny groans against your skin where his face is pressed. You can feel him spill deep inside of you and you shudder, eyes squeezing shut as your head falls forward, hitting the desk with a small thunk. 

Steve’s teeth sink into the smooth skin of your shoulder, quick and gentle, more of a nip, as he presses his chest to your back. Soft kisses soothe over the small bites, and then Steve’s pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breath hot and heavy as he nuzzles there. You pant into your arms folded on the desk and melt into Steve’s touch as his hand rubs lovingly across your hip bones. 

“Y’alright, baby?” he asks, out of breath. 

“Mhm,” you murmur, post-orgasm haze still clouding your thoughts. 

“Good,” you can feel the curve of his lips against your spine, followed by a few soft kisses that trail down your back. He stops halfway down, hands settling onto your hips as he stands back up and slowly pulls out. 

You wince, still so sensitive, but let Steve pull you up and off of the desk, turning you around so your lips can meet his. He kisses you on the mouth, once, twice, and trails a kiss over to your cheek. Your fingers tangle into his hair and you let out a breathless laugh, “I think it’s sturdy enough.”

Steve huffs in amusement, “Thank god. Imagine if it broke while we were on it. And, good news, we just checked the office off of the ‘places we still need to fuck in the new apartment’ list.”

“If you bring me to the bathroom right now, we can check off another one.”

Eyes going wide, Steve grins, literally whisking you off of your feet as he says, “Deal.”

[shushmal]

merman steve pt 2

a continuation of this for @spectrum-spectre, now with some pre-steddie~!

Henderson is skulking around in the cereal aisle when Eddie spots him.

The kid has been a bit of enigma to Eddie since he met him at the beginning of last fall semester. Dustin had a tight group of friends, but often times, he caught the gang of them sans Henderson and the fact seemed to annoy the hell out of them.

"He just goes off on on his own sometimes," Baby Beyers would say.

"He won't tell anyone where or why or with who," Mini Wheeler would snarl.

"And it's definitely not to talk to his girlfriend, because we hear ALL about that," Big Sinclair would sigh, rolling his eyes.

So catching kid creeping around the grocery store minus the rest of his party, after hearing many complains of his mysterious disappearances? Color Eddie intrigued.

"Hendersooon," Eddie sang, wrapping an arm around Dustin's neck to keep him from escaping. "Whatcha doing?"

"Eddie!" he said brightly, grinning at him. "Just buying some snacks. Hey, which cereal do you think a fish can eat?"

Eddie stares at him for a moment, blinking. "Uh..."

Henderson's face scrunches up. "I guess he's not really a fish though, so I'll try whatever." He grabs a box of Honey Combs from the shelf.

"Dude, are you keeping a sea turtle at your house again? You know that's illegal."

"No!" Henderson snaps, flushing. "And I was going to take Dart back after show and tell, I had already promised Steve!"

"Steve?" That was a new name. Eddie hadn't heard Henderson talk about a Steve before, and the guy was kind of a motormouth and a terrible liar. The only time Eddie had seen him actually avoid a topic was when his little disappearing acts were brought up. "Who's Steve?"

Henderson's eyes go comically wide. "No-one! I don't know any Steves!"

Eddie knew at least three Steves, and two were in Henderson's grade. "Uh-huh."

"Anyways," Dustin says, clutching the box of Honey Combs to his chest as he backs down the aisle. "I gotta go man, nice seeing you, bye!"

Bemused, Eddie watches him go. He's planning to give Henderson a five minute head start before he goes to tail him, but apparently, he needn't to have planned a stake out after all. Henderson finds him again, two aisles over, panting and red-faced.

"Actually, can you give me a ride?"

🧜‍♂️

"Eddie," Henderson says, voice even more serious and deadly than the time the party took on Vecna last month during their campaign. "I need you to swear that you will never, ever tell anyone about what I'm going to show you."

Eddie cocks a brow at him. "Is this a drugs thing? Dude, you—"

"No!" Henderson snaps. "This is not a drug thing! This is a very serious life and death thing, and I need you to swear on you life you won't tell anyone about it."

"Dude," Eddie says, a little in awe. He stares out his windshield for a moment where they're still parked just outside of town. He can hear sounds of the ocean just past the ridge, waves crashing on the cliffs. It's a remote little area, opposite of the tourist favored beaches. Eddie, in fact, deals just a few miles down the shoreline from here. "Did you bring me out here to kill me? Are you the world's dorkiest serial killer?"

"Eddie." Eddie turns to look at him. His face is grave, brows furrowed with real worry. "I'm serious."

"Okay... Okay, then."

"You have to swear."

"I swear."

And just like that, Henderson's face breaks into a bright smile. "I knew I could trust you!" he crows, grabbing up his bag from the store and kicking open his door.

Eddie stumbles out of his van after him, listening intently as they pick their way over the rocks.

"He's so cool, Eddie, you're going to love him. He totally saved my life when I was like ten and I got pulled out on a rip tide. Like, I really almost died dude and then he just swims up out of no where and helps me catch my breath. Helps me float there while I'm freaking out too until the life guard finally came out to get me. It was crazy! I come out here all the time to visit him, I think he gets a little lonely. So it's good you're here, I've been trying to think of someone else to introduce him to, but it's hard to figure out who's going to freak out and try to sell him to Sea World, or something."

They crest over the hill to a tiny little cove bitten out of the rocky shore, and carefully begin to make their way back down to the water's edge. Eddie's still not entirely sure Henderson hasn't brought him here to die. Maybe Steve is the serial killer and he uses Henderson as bait.

"Okay, okay," Dustin says, once they reach the water. It's calmer here, the cliffs cutting this spot off from the larger waves. "Are you ready to see the coolest thing EVER?"

"Uh, sure, kid—"

Eddie doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence when he starts yelling.

"STEVE THIS IS EDDIE I BROUGHT HIM TO MEET YOU I PROMISE IT'S SAFE!"

"Jesus Christ," Eddie hisses, covering his ears. The lungs on this kid! "What the fuck dude— WHAT THE FUCK!!"

Because when he looks down, there is a face in the water. Eddie falls back on his ass, uncaring of the water soaking his jeans, and screams when the face in the water rises up out the ocean.

It looks pissed.

"Dustin," it says, glaring at Eddie. Eddie screams again, because it—the guy—the mermaid lifts himself fully onto the rocks, and he doesn't have any legs. Because he has a fucking tail.

A fucking fish tail.

"Steve!" Dustin cheers. "You came out."

"You sure?" the goddamn mermaid asks, finally taking his piercing, alien eyes off of Eddie to look at him. "Sure it safe?"

"Absolutely," Dustin says hastily, crouching beside Eddie to put his hands on his shoulders. "Eddie just screams a lot, I promise you, he's totally safe."

"R-Right," Eddie says, because he does not want to be eaten. Maybe Dustin's been dragging unsuspecting victims here to feed his pet goddamn mermaid instead of a serial killer. "Totally safe, that's me."

Steve, the goddamn fucking mermaid, looks him up and down doubtfully, and it's terrifying having those eyes on him, unnaturally yellow surrounded by black. His face is distressingly human, nose and mouth and ears with a mop of dark hair on his head. He has these bright shimmering scales across his cheekbones that dot down his jaw and neck, iridescent and glimmering in the afternoon sun. Eddie can't bring himself to look down further, scared and enraptured all at once.

Steve is terrifying and beautiful to look at.

"Fine," says Steve and pushes himself gracefully back into the water, disappearing into the dark depths.

"What the fuck," Eddie breathes. He looks up at Dustin with wide eyes. "Dude, what the fuck."

Dustin just grins down at him. "Isn't he the coolest?!"

[rogueddie]

Space Heater T | 418 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is letting him put his cold hands under your shirt and only complaining a little bit

"Jesus Christ, why is it so cold in here? I'm gonna freeze my balls off."

"Lovely mental image," Robin replies, face scrunched up in disgust.

Steve rolls his eyes, continuing to restack the shelf.

"Nice view."

He glances back, realising that Eddie is staring at him, as he bends down to the lower shelf.

"Eyes here, soldier," Robin says, snapping her fingers at him. "What do you want?"

"I can't bother my favourite workplace duo on a Friday evening?"

"Not when it has the boss breathing down our necks. It's bad enough that he's a cheap bastard, not letting us turn the heating on, we don't need a lecture as well."

"Why doesn't he just ban me?"

"You're a paying customer," Steve says, finally stepping back to the till, leaning against it. "You're an 'important part of the ecosystem'."

"I've only got one thing from here and I stole it."

"What the boss says goes," Robin says.

"That's bullshit."

He steps to the side, so he's behind Steve, and wraps an arm around his waist. He uses it to hold him still long enough to snake his other arm under his shirt.

"Dude," Steve complains.

"What? You're warm."

He rolls his eyes, but makes no move to push him away. Not even when he moves his other arm under his shirt too, pressing up against his back.

"You should quit or something," Eddie says, voice a little muffled from how his face is pressed against Steve's shoulder. "This place is hell."

"It pays," Steve points out. "And we are looking. There's not a lot of places that are open to our two package deal."

Eddie hums, slowly starting to rock them both side to side.

"Steve has work," Robin points out.

"Mm, I'm sure he does."

"Work that doesn't involve you clinging onto him like a koala bear."

"I don't hear him complaining."

"That's because he's a touch-starved dork."

"Hey-" Steve tries, but is soon interrupted by Eddie.

"Just because he loves me," he teases, squeezing Steve a little tighter and moving his head so his chin rests on Steve's shoulder.

"He loved me first!"

"Platonically."

"Exactly, we're like siblings- no, soulmates. I'm top of the food chain, Munson, get with it."

"Oh my god," Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I won't love either of you if you don't cut the shit."

"'M sorry, big boy," Eddie immediately mumbles, pressing his face into his neck.

"Sorry," Robin adds, though she doesn't sound apologetic at all.

[torakowalski]

Apols for the delay but Swimmer Steve is back and pretty much exactly where we last left him.

(part one | part six)

"Fuck," says Steve. "Fuck." He hasn't said much of anything else since he came out of the changing rooms, still damp and kind of stunned-looking.

"Fuck," Eddie agrees.

Steve looks at him, a smile starting to spread across his face, going on and on like it might be endless.

God, he's handsome.

God, Eddie is stupid in love with him.

"Olympics, baby!" Eddie crows. They've already hugged; Steve got a hug from everyone, as soon as he emerged. Eddie wants to hug him again, but that would probably be too much.

"Fuck," says Steve and sits down on the floor between their two beds.

Eddie shrugs to himself and sits down with him.

They've only come back to the hotel so Steve can get showered and changed before the celebration dinner that the kids have planned. Or, actually, Steve has come back to the hotel for that; thinking about it, Eddie's not sure why he came with, except that it just felt natural.

Either way, looks like they're going to take longer than expected.

"All good?" Eddie asks, just in case.

"Jesus Christ," says Steve, which is a change from fuck and laughs. He lifts his hands up to cover his face and when he lowers them again, his eyes are wet. "The Olympics, Eddie."

Eddie nods, can't do anything but smile stupidly back at him. He doesn't think he's ever seen Steve this open and relaxed and delighted. "The Olympics, Steve."

Steve rubs at his eyes with his fingertips, mostly just making his eyelashes damper and darker from his happy tears. "You know when you've wanted something your whole damn life, but you never really thought you'd get it? It feels fucking wild to get it."

Eddie thinks about his guitar, his band, how badly he wants to stand on a stage looking out at thousands of people who all want to hear what he has to sing. Then he reminds himself that this is Steve's moment.

"I bet," he says. "Congrats. You've worked damn hard and you absolutely deserve it."

Steve leans over and bumps their shoulders together. "You're coming with me, right?"

Eddie blinks. "Where?"

"... the Olympics," says Steve, like it should be obvious.

Eddie blinks some more. "Steve. Sweetheart. Steve. The Olympics are in Korea."

"Mm," Steve agrees, "but the war's over, it's totally safe there now."

Eddie loves and hates that Steve thinks that might be the only thing putting Eddie off.

Eddie stretches his legs out so they disappear under Steve's bed and hopes there's nothing really gross under there that'll stick to his jeans. "Look, the literal only reason I've been able to afford rocking up and down the country with you is government hush money and the fact you keep buying all my meals. There's no way I can stretch to plane tickets, and I'd need my own hotel room, right? 'cause you'll be living in the athletes village?"

He could have kept going, obviously he could have kept going, but he stops there because Steve is waving a hand at him.

"What? Don't say you'll pay. There's no way you have that much extra cash, either."

"Nah," Steve says, "but my dad does. And I will be fully, fully back on the credit card, after he finds out about this."

Eddie makes a face. "But we hate your dad?"

"We really do," Steve agrees, smile not even dimming. "But we love spending his money on shit he'll hate." He drops a hand to Eddie's knee, giving it a squeeze and a shake. "You'll come, right?"

"... You should take Robin," Eddie tries, one last attempt to be a good person. "Or the kids. God, the kids would shit."

Steve leaves his hand on Eddie's knee, like that's just a place where it goes now. "I'd take them all, if I could... Plus like, all their parents to keep an eye on them, but they'll all be back in school by the time the Olympics start. None of them can take like, three weeks out."

"I bet Erica could wrangle it," Eddie points out.

Steve makes a guilty face. "Love Erica, but I don't think we have the kind of relationship where we hop over to Asia, just the two of us. You know?"

Eddie wants to ask, And we do? But they do. He knows they do.

"I don't know," he says. It's a big fucking deal. He's never left the country before and he'd love to, but he really does hate Steve's dad and all he chooses to be. The idea of being beholden to him for that big a favour sits wrong in his gut, even if Mr Harrington never actually knows about it.

"Eddie," Steve says, like he's prepared to wheedle for what he wants. Then he stops, takes a breath, shakes his head. "I know it's a big ask and obviously you don't have to, if you really don't want to. I kind of just, I can't, I can't imagine doing this without you."

Eddie claps a hand to his chest. "Right in the flattery gland, Harrington."

Steve slides his hand up Eddie's leg and squeezes his thigh. Is this going to be a thing? Is Eddie going to have to get Robin to have a word with him about this soon?

"You're the whole reason I've got this far," Steve tells him, all close and sincere. "If you don't want to come, that'll suck, but it's okay. I just wanna make sure that you know I appreciate everything you've done."

Eddie knows every mole on Steve's face, but Steve's close enough now to reveal a few previously unknown freckles.

Eddie chuckles weakly. "Personal space?" he suggests.

"Overrated," Steve says and then.

And then.

And then he presses his lips carefully against Eddie's.

"What?" Eddie croaks. He can feel his breath dance off Steve's mouth.

"Thank you," Steve says and kisses him again, a little firmer, a little damper this time.

"I..." Eddie is a goddamn fucking hero because he makes himself lean back. "Don't. You can't. Don't kiss me to say thank you. That's not... Don't. Please."

He's expecting Steve to sit back, blush and apologise and explain he had to best of intentions. Instead, Steve lifts the hand not on Eddie's thigh and touches his cheek. "Can I kiss you 'cause I can't imagine not kissing you?"

The centre of Eddie's chest throbs. Even he doesn't know what that means. "You don't want to kiss me," he manages.

"Kinda really do," Steve says. "So? Can I?"

(continued here)

[apomaro-mellow]

"Okay, be straight with me."

Steve leveled a look and Eddie almost swooned but he kept it together. This was serious.

"Right, okay, be bisexual with me."

"Eddie, we're in public", Steve said, mock-scandalized.

"I'm starting to regret becoming a level 5 friend of yours Harrington." Dustin had said Steve could get silly and goofy. Of course Eddie didn't believe it. Not until he had seen it. Not until he had seen that secret handshake of theirs and seen him pump his fist in victory when he beat Erica at rock, paper, scissors, and when he'd seen him-

"Did you have something to say, or...?"

"Yeah! Okay, so, what I wanted to ask waaaas, did you ever, you know, look at any guys?" Eddie cleared his throat and continued when Steve looked at him blankly. "Sinfully?"

The location for this conversation could either be really good or really bad. In the McDonald's parking lot on a late afternoon. Steve just got off from a relatively short shift and wanted lunch. Eddie was wasting time until Hellfire that night. Of course they were eating in Eddie's van. Not a single crumb graced Steve's car.

"I mean, I guess I did", Steve shrugged. "Before I really understood what I was feeling. Honestly it felt like I just hated guys for no reason."

Eddie nodded in understanding. Before realizing what all those slurs meant, he definitely felt like some dudes were attractive in a way just to spite him. Then he came to realize he didn't want to punch them, but to do...well other things with his hands.

"Soooo, you ever have a crush?"

Steve let out a bark of laughter so loud it startled Eddie.

"What are you serious?"

"I-yes? What? Is it so ridiculous?"

"Eddie I-", Steve cut himself off and looked him in the eyes. "You asked me that question and you really don't know?"

"Is it a sensitive topic?" Eddie went on ahead and stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth before he stuck his foot in it.

"No, it's just, you of all people asking me that." Steve put a hand to his mouth and looked out the window and Eddie felt like he was missing something.

"So was there ever anyone?"

Steve turned back towards him. "Was...and is."

"Well shit, don't leave me hangin'."

"Are we doing girl talk or something now?", Steve grinned.

"I know for a fact you and Bucks talk about the girls she likes. Why can't you talk to a fellow queer about boys?"

"I've talked to Argyle and Jonathan about it", Steve shrugged.

Now that got Eddie raring. Jonathan he could understand. But he just met Argyle!

"Okay, you gotta tell me. It can be either the 'was' or the 'is' but I need to know who caught the eye of the Hair."

Steve laughed again, this time bending over. "Eye of the Hair sounds like one of your dungeon things."

"Don't try and distract me with DnD, Steve. Spill."

"Okay, okay. Let's talk about this is."

Eddie was torn. On the one hand, he really did want to know who Steve was crushing on. On the other hand, if he knew the dude what was stopping him from going over to his house and busting his nose?

"So, he's our age. Went to Hawkins High-"

"Wow that really narrows it down."

"He and I were in different cliques. Didn't hang out a lot until he started hangin around my kids."

Eddie let out a snort. "You do remember you didn't actually birth a gaggle of children, right?"

"You wanna hear this or not?"

"Continue."

"Anyway, he's a nerd. Like a huuuge nerd. Like sometimes I can't even believe I like him, but then he...I mean I....it's not like I like him despite his nerdiness. I like that part of him too now."

Eddie began listing the choices. Someone from school, who hung out with the kids? Recent? That could be someone from Hellfire. Kind of think of it, Steve and Jeff have been talking a lot more recently. It was just here or there when Steve was dropping off or picking up kids from meetings but still...

"Can I get a description?"

"What are you? The cops?"

"How dare you!"

"He's got dark hair and dark eyes", Steve conceded with a roll of his eyes.

Fuck it could be Jeff. Okay, okay, he could be supportive. Jeff was a good guy. A great guy. And Jeff would be a lucky son of a bitch to get Steve.

"Son of a bitch", he murmured.

"Hm?"

"Son of a witch, nerd thing", Eddie waved off. "I think you should be able to trust me with his name. I could even maybe hook you two up if I just so happen to know him~"

"You'd hook me up with some guy?", Steve asked.

"I know right, I'm so generous." And maybe if Jeff blew his chance with Steve, he could be there to pick up the pieces. No! Bad Munson! Bad thoughts. Jeff would never hurt Steve and he shouldn't hope for it. But what if it wasn't Jeff?

What if it was some other geek he didn't know? The freshies were into science too. What if it was that chemistry dork Howard?

"Actually, I think I really do need to know who this guy is. Need to be sure he's good enough for you."

Steve smiled in a way that rivaled the sun and Eddie truly felt like a knight in shining armor. He'd protect his princess from any undeserving mouthbreather.

"I think he's more than worthy. And I hope you would agree", Steve said.

"I'll know for sure once I see him." Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, already formulating ideas to make this dude wet his pants. "So tell me more about him."

"Okay, we knew of each other for a while, but the first time we officially talked, he attacked me."

"Red flag. No go."

"In his defense, he was on the run from the law", Steve added quickly.

"A criminal? Second red flag."

"Allegedly. And that's big talk comin' from a drug dealer."

"Who you partake with", Eddie reminded him.

"I do. But it's a little less than legal what you do. As is several things both of us have done. I don't think either of us has a high horse to look down on."

Eddie hemmed and hawed before letting out a sigh. "Alright, we'll call that a yellow flag for now. What else?"

"He's just...so different from anyone else I've ever been into, Eds. I'm really into him. Like an embarrassing amount." And now Steve was blushing and Eddie felt jealousy boil in his gut. But he also felt happy that Steve was happy. He could take solace in that. Even if he wanted to deck this guy on principle.

"Do you know if he's like us?"

"Oh, I know", Steve said, putting his elbow on the rest between them and leaning in close. "Wanna know more?"

And fuck his masochistic heart, he did. What could this guy have that he didn't?

After Eddie nodded, Steve continued. "He's larger than life, honestly. In a way I thought I used to be but he's the genuine real deal. He can be kind of a jerk, but it's clear when he cares. And that mouth-"

"Okay! Please stop torturing me and tell me who this guy is so I can decide if I hate him or not!"

Steve was laughing again and as beautiful as it was, Eddie felt like a joke himself.

"If you're gonna start hating yourself then we've got a problem", Steve said.

Eddie jerked around like he was short circuiting as all the pieces came into place. High school, nerd, with the kids, attacked him, running from the law.

"You! You are unbelievable, you know that?"

"That's a new one", Steve was still grinning. "So are you gonna kiss me now? Or are you not worthy?"

They were in a parking lot. In broad daylight. This could be bad. But Eddie was a weak, weak man and his dream boy was asking for a kiss. So he leaned in and obliged. Son of a bitch he was the son of a bitch that caught Steve's eye.

"Well?", Steve asked when they pulled away. "What do you think of the guy I like?"

"I still think you could do better."

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 23

part 1 | part 22 | ao3

cw: alcohol, recreational drinking

Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?” 

“What? You look cute!” 

“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”

“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”

“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.” 

“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”

“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."

“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.

She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.” 

“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.” 

“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”

Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”

They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.

In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.

The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls. 

Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.

Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.

Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.

“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”

Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.

Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?

He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!

“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?” 

“Yes, please.” 

—

The drinks are strong.

Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging. 

They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move. 

He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.

The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger. 

Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.

She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.

“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.

Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"

Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on. 

Well, shit.

—

part 24

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A flock of elephants

Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Bakery AU

Rated: T

CW: some sexual tension and innuendo

Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie

Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic

“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall. 

Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up. 

"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-" 

"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?" 

"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock." 

"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs." 

"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants." 

Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.

"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?" 

Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"

"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all." 

*

Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager. 

"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously." 

"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.

Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-" 

Dustin starts squealing. 

"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie squints at him like a confused cat. 

"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?" 

"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve." 

Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile. 

"Baker boy, hi!" 

Steve's mouth goes dry. 

He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone. 

Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves. 

Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …

… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner? 

"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?" 

By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk. 

"Told you I was the best." 

Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.

"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-" 

"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?" 

Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-" 

"We'd love to stay!" 

Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy. 

"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?" 

Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate. 

"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite." 

"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!" 

"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-" 

"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor." 

"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first." 

"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though." 

And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail. 

Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 10

Hey guys! We're back for another adventure at the Hellfire!

We have a lot happening in this one: Wayne is all doom and gloom, Steve and Eddie make it hot, Jeff is long suffering, and a hugely jealous Eddie with Gareth to talk him down. And that guy at the end? Don't worry about him, it's only a cameo and nothing more. I promise!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

~

“Boy,” Wayne said solemnly, “I’m starting to think either Robin or Steve or even both are cursed.”

Chrissy called Eddie that morning to say that she had twisted her ankle and had to take the weekend off. She would be able to get back to work on Wednesday, but Saturday, Sunday, and Monday was out. Her day off was on Tuesday and she willing to come in then to make up for it, but Eddie waved her off and told her get better.

“Should I call off the Tempting of Eve dance all together?” he asked ignoring the cursed comment.

Wayne sighed. “As much as I think that boy is bad luck, calling it off wouldn’t help anyone.”

“I mean the club isn’t hard up for cash right, now,” Eddie hedged. “So the harm wouldn’t be lasting.”

Wayne just shrugged. “I’m not here to advise you, Ed. Just here to hold your hand while you make all the decisions.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie huffed, drawing his hands over his face with a groan. “I just don’t think I’ll be able to keep my hands off of Steve if the dance goes on tonight.”

Wayne laughed. “Son, that is rather the point of the dance is it not, having your hands all over Steve?”

“Yeah, but I had Chrissy before to reel me in.”

~

Breaking the dance down from three to two wasn’t that hard, not with Scott and Steve helping get the choreography down. In fact Eddie was a little pissed how well they worked together. Him and Steve, not Steve and Scott.

Scott was straight with a wife and three kids. Nothing to be jealous of there. Nope. Not at all.

Steve was graceful and smooth where Eddie rough and tumble. Their styles matched each other’s. And fuck, with the new costumes that were color change under water, from white to red?

Steve was fucking Sin, capital S and all. Not just envy but fucking all of them. Pride in his ability to dance, Lust in his ability to make you feel every move, Greed as he soaked up the attention, Sloth because of how easy it came to him, Gluttony in how made Eddie want to devour him, and Envy for anyone who watched them, wishing they were Eddie, dancing with Steve.

Then the climax of the dance hit and “Samael” died in Lucifer’s arms to become Satan. His wings torn, his costume blood red, his body pressed to Eddie’s. Their erections only mere pieces of on thin material between them.

Eddie was on fire.

And judging from the half-lidded eyes and panting breath, Steve was too.

The crowd went wild. The money showered them like rain. Steve as Satan left the stage to let Eddie continue his show. Steve quickly changed out of the wet clothes so that he could hurry back out to watch Eddie preform with his guitar. All the while his heart was racing. It had never felt like this before with Chrissy.

Eddie played his heart out, putting as much attention into his strip as possible, to block out the thoughts of Steve’s warm body pressed to his own.

When the last article of clothing dropped and Eddie hung up his guitar he was still hard a rock and horny as hell.

He got on the pole, dancing the rest of his set grinding against the cold metal.

Finally the last note fell away and he looked up at the audience. The whole room had fallen silent in the rush of the sheer eroticism that rolled of Eddie in waves. Then they were on their feet, cheering and stomping their feet in excitement.

Eddie laughed out loud, taking his bow as the backup dancers picked up the money from the stage and carried it backstage.

When they were divvying up the tips for the night it was clear that both his solo dance and his duet with Steve was a massive hit.

Steve took his earnings with a soft and maybe a little shy smile and Eddie beamed back.

“That was fun, Stevie,” Eddie said with a grin. “We’ll have to talk to Chrissy and see what she thinks about changing up the dance to where she leaves after falling and it’s just me and you finishing the dance.”

Steve blushed a dark red. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Remind me to send flowers to Chrissy’s hook up,” Eddie teased with a grin, “for leaving her boots out where Chrissy could trip on them.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Wait? Is that what happened? Oh my God, that’s fucking hilarious!”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, leaning back in his chair smugly, “I am never letting her live it down. Ever.”

“I hear that,” Steve huffed a laugh. “If Robin had done something like that the teasing would never stop.”

He hovered at the door a moment before he wished Eddie good night.

Once Steve was out of sight, Eddie buried his head in hands. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there like that before there was a knock on his door. He lifted his head.

“Hey, man,” Jeff said with a shake of his head. “I thought I told you to knock it off with that burning the candles at both ends bullshit.”

Eddie raised his head and huffed out a laugh. “The whole fucking house is on fire at this point, man.”

Jeff slipped into the room and sat down on the sofa. He patted the spot next to him and Eddie went willingly.

“If you’re talking about that dance between Lucifer and Samael,” Jeff said dryly, “I’d fucking agree with you. You two looked like you were the only two people in the world and everyone liked that.”

Eddie threw his head back. “God, I want to cross that line. And there really is no reason not to. Steve has shown time and time again he is one hundred percent a part of the club, willing to do anything for it, its crew, and its owner.”

“So what is stopping you?” Jeff asked, putting his arm on the back of the sofa and massaging the back of Eddie’s skull.

“Steve and Robin are going through some pretty heavy shit right now,” Eddie murmured, “and I don’t want to get in the middle of that. But I have no idea when it will be resolved and my own resolve is crumbling with each dance he dances.”

“Come on, put your head up here,” Jeff said softly, “and I’ll give that big head of yours a proper massage.”

Eddie dutifully put his head on Jeff’s lap, letting his best friend work out the knots in his head.

“So at least tell him how you feel,” Jeff murmured. “Tell him you’re willing to wait until the trouble blows over, but that you really like him.”

Eddie tilted his back to look him in the eye. “Nah, I think I’ll pine for the rest of my days.”

Jeff gave his hair a good tug. “I’ll give you until the end of the month to tell him or I will.”

Eddie huffed out a sigh. “Yeah, and knowing you, you’ll do it during our dance with a big fucking sign all in glitter from the back of the club.”

Jeff grinned down at his friend. “Don’t forget the two billion heart stickers.”

“Oh of course,” Eddie huffed sarcastically, “can’t forget the stickers.” He twisted his head to look at him. “Just where would you even get that many stickers?”

“My sticker dealer,” Jeff said smugly. “I have a four year old niece.”

Eddie nodded solemnly; there was no one in the world who loved stickers as much as a four year old.

“You’re with the dancers more than I am,” he said softly, “what do they think of Steve? Like honestly? I know he ruffled feathers when he first started, but it’s been awhile and just because I haven’t heard anything...”

“Doesn’t mean there’s no fire to the smoke?” Jeff asked. Eddie nodded. “A lot of them respect the hell out of him, but there are some that are jealous as hell, that he’s so fucking talented. Hell, Brian is one of them. But I think Bri’s is more that Steve can do everything he can but he’s still... well, not thin. Not exactly.”

“Should I talk to him about it?” Eddie asked. “Bri’s a good friend and I don’t want him feeling like I’ve abandoned him just because a nice piece of ass showed interest, you know?”

“Taking him out to lunch and just being his friend would be a hell of a good place to start,” Jeff agreed. “Gareth likes Steve because you like him but they aren’t friends or anything. Scott and Steve are like actual friends. I think Steve was invited to his oldest kid’s birthday party last weekend.”

Eddie chuckled. As jealous as he was of how easy they got a long, he was actually happy that Steve and Scott were friends. “Better him than me, man. I tend to weird parents out.”

“That’s because you exude heavy metal badass,” Jeff said with a grin. “Kids love that shit, but parents...” he waved his outstretched hand back and forth, “not so much.”

Eddie sat up. “Why do I always feel better after I’ve talked to you? Are you like a witch or some shit?”

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah. I’ve got magic all right, the magic of friendship.”

Eddie smacked him and Jeff chuckled.

“Seriously though,” Jeff huffed. “You bottle up all your feelings and problems and when I finally pry them out of you, you end up feeling better for it.” He got to his feet and pulled Eddie to his. “Come on, man. Let’s get you some fresh air. This place doesn’t even have fucking windows.”

Eddie chuckled, following his friend out the door and into the cool night air.

~

There was one thing Eddie didn’t normally allow and that was lap dances. Particularly lap dances in a private room. One they didn’t have private rooms, most because the place wasn’t built in a way to accommodate them and two, they welcomed assault in ways Eddie wanted to avoid.

If they did want a lap dance it was men only and only the principle dancers. Backup dancers were off limits. Again, it was trouble Eddie didn’t want to go courting. Especially from what he’d seen in other strip and erotic clubs.

But the person in question was a rather a big deal and was paying a lot of money for privilege. Like proper ‘fuck you’ money. But Eddie made sure to write up a contract for the guy. That this was a one off deal; that he couldn’t buy the dancer in question, that they weren’t property; that no matter how much money the guy had Eddie could not be bought either.

The man smirked a little and wagged his eyebrows, but signed on the dotted line. “There you go. I admire your dedication to your morals, your dancers, and your business. It’s one of the reasons I enjoy coming here.”

As much as it pained him, the dancer the gentleman wanted was Steve. He put Chrissy on wandering hands patrol and went to go have a smoke. This time it was Gareth that found him.

“You know a lap dance isn’t any different than a full strip, right?” Gareth huffed. He took the cigarette from him and pulled a long drag before letting the smoke drift out of the side of his mouth. “He doesn’t care about that guy anymore than he cares about any of the regulars.”

Eddie took the cigarette back and flicked off the ash before taking another drag. He spun the butt to get the remaining ash out of it and then crushed it under his heel. “I do know that. But I also know that ‘regulars’ can turn into ‘regular creeps’ at the drop of a hat. You remember what happened to Bakir last year. Cops had to be called.”

Gareth pulled out his own cigarettes and lit another one, handing it to Eddie. “I do remember, but you got Mr. Fancy Pants to sign a fucking contract. You’ll live.”

Eddie took a short puff on the cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a huff. They passed the cigarette back and forth for awhile.

“So what’s really got you worried about this guy?” Gareth said as he finished the last of the smoke. “And don’t tell me it’s just about Steve. I can see your wheels turning.”

“That if he wanted to buy the club,” Eddie said bitterly, “I’d let him do it in a heartbeat. Just stick to shaking my ass until he drives all the good ones away and I quit too. This place is eating me alive and I’m ready to give up.”

Gareth ground the butt under his foot. “Well that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard you say and I was there when you said you want to fuck your guitar for your Pride set. Do I have to mention how even unstrung it would mutilate your dick?”

Eddie snorted. “It would have been hot. But like only the once, which is why I agreed not to.” He leaned his head back against the brick. “It just seems like a fucking tornado of trouble just touched down and I have to sit back and watch as my livelihood goes up in smoke with it.”

“It be nice to place the blame on someone,” Gareth agreed. “Billy. Stella. Levi. Steve.” Eddie glared at him, but he forged ahead. “But life doesn’t work that way. It’s never just one person’s fault or fuck up. It’s just life, man. So get your head out of your ass and do something.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I can do this.”

Just then Chrissy came out back to tell them that Steve was done and getting changed and the gentleman was long gone. It was just the two cleaning crews awaiting the go ahead to start.

Eddie nodded and went inside to do just that.

~

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

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10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975 @garden-of-gay

[buckybuckyboo]

TAKING WHAT'S HIS

Word count: 1,462

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+. Smut. Teasing Bucky

Today was the day that you were going to tease Bucky. But not in the normal way. Whenever you and Bucky are together, you are always the one to touch his arm or rest your hand on his chest or even play with his hair, and he absolutely loves it. But you want him to make the first move. He's so sweet and caring and doesn't want to overstep. Bucky has already left to meet Sam and Steve to work out at the gym, so you get out of bed and head into the shower where you use his favorite body wash of yours. You're still in the shower when he gets home and he immediately smells the body wash. He comes to the bathroom door and knocks gently "Hey, babe, just got back. I'll get some coffee started"

Getting out of the shower and dry yourself off and apply some lotion. Deciding not to wear a bra, you pull on some white lace panties and put on Bucky's red Henley top. Walking out to the kitchen, you see him taking some cups out of the cupboard. "Hi baby, how are the boys?" Moving up beside him but trying not to take any notice of him. When he turns his head seeing you, your hair still wet, and wearing nothing but his Henley top and panties, he almost drops the cups. "H- hey um, the guys are fine. They both say hi" "Aw, that's sweet! We should have a movie night and order some take out" Leaning over reaching for something making your shirt ride up over your ass.

Bucky starts to stutter over his words. "Um, yeah, we- we could do that" "Yeah, it will be fun! Can I have my cup please?" He's just staring at you. "Bucky?" "Oh yeah, sorry baby" He hands it to you and you get your coffee and sit at the table. Bucky sat beside you but his eyes followed a water drop that came off your wet hair and ran down your neck, your chest, and down in between your breasts. "Bucky? Bucky are you listening to me?" "Huh? Sorry baby what did you say?" "I said we'll have to pick a night for the movie night. I was thinking maybe next week?" "Yeah that sounds good doll, I'll let them know" You smile over at him pulling your cup up to your lips and smirking behind it.

Later in the day the two of you were sitting on the couch together but you were usually all over him but this time you stayed on your side alone. "You don't wanna sit with me, baby?" He asks. "I'm okay over here baby" "You sure? You want a foot massage or something?" "Thank you for the offer baby but I'm okay ." You smile over at him and turn your attention back to the TV but you can feel his eyes on you. Looking at your soft legs. Your warm skin. The smell of your body wash and shampoo. He pulls one of the couch cushions into his lap hugging it. "Are you okay Bucky?" "Yeah I'm fine just wanted to hug something I guess" "Aw Buck" But of course that wasn't true, he was getting hard thinking about your soft skin, your legs, having them wrapped around his waist.

It was killing you to not touch him but you wanted him to just take you. As it was getting a little late, you decided to head to bed. Feeling defeated that you couldn't get Bucky to lose his mind but there is always tomorrow. When you were leaving the living room you said good night to him but didn't kiss him. You let your shirt ride up showing your ass and your lace panties off. As soon as you were in the bedroom, Bucky let out the breath he was holding and collapsed onto the couch. His mind was racing. His cock was rock hard and wasn't going to go down anytime soon. He stayed up trying to think of something else but all that was on his mind was you. He needed to be close to you. Bucky goes to the bedroom door looking in at you sound asleep in bed.

You woke up a little when you felt the bed dip but didn't move. Bucky lays beside you, pressing his chest against your back and breathing in the smell of your shampoo. His hand moves over your hip and down along your ass. You're not wearing any panties anymore and it makes him moan a little dropping his head into the crook of your neck. In your head, you're shouting "GO ON BUCKY TAKE WHAT'S YOURS!". You feel him move away for a moment, taking his boxers off and pressing his chest against your back again. His cock is rock hard against your ass as he moves it against you. In your sleepy state, you call out for him "James? Jamie?" He kisses along your neck, "I'm sorry baby, I'm so sorry. I just need you" Slipping your hand in between your legs, you feel the tip of his cock and you start to rub it.

Feeling him pant against the shell of your ear. His hand gripping onto your hip, hoping there will be marks left to look at later. "Take me, James, take what's yours" He rests his head against the back of yours as you help him line up at your entrance. The moan that comes from his mouth isn't like any moan you've heard from him before as he slowly pushes inside you. You let out a low moan while his cock stretches you. You start to rub your clit in small slow circles. His arm comes from underneath you. His metal hand closes around your wrist pulling it away from your clit. His other hand coming around your body, up over your breasts, and wrapping his hand around your throat. He rests his head against your ear, everything is still for a moment and then he spoke in a low tone. "Mine" His hips start to move slowly, making your breath hitch every time he pushed fully inside you.

"I'm glad you finally come to your senses baby, it's been tough teasing you all day. You're such a gentleman" "No more teasing baby" He whispers as he pulls his cock almost all the way out. "I'm gonna take what's mine from now on and this pussy is all mine" He slams back into you with force, making you almost scream "Yes James all yours! Please ruin me" His grip tightens around your neck as he bites into your shoulder. His cock slipping out of you and slamming back in making you bounce up on the bed and almost lose your breath. His pace getting faster, and he's getting lost in you. "Pussy feels so fucking good baby doll, it's all mine isn't it. Tell me!" "It's yours, James, it's all yours! God, you fuck me so good!" "That's it, baby, taking my cock so well, squeezing me so tight! Fuck! Driving me crazy!"

Bucky's head falls into the crook of your neck and his movements become sloppy. He's getting close. "You gonna cum baby? Gonna fill me with your seed? Make me all round and full with your baby?" "Fuck! Yes, baby! Gonna fill you to the brim with my cum. Not gonna let any of it drip out. Oh fuck! Squeezing me so much baby girl" "I'm- I'm gonna cum baby fuck yes!" You moan as you cum all over his cock. You can hear the sloppy sounds of his cock slamming into you from all your juices. It makes Bucky cum moments later, he's moaning and cursing in your ear as his cock and his cum fill you up. His hand moves from your neck to your chest holding you against him as you both pant. Turning your head to the side to kiss him passionately.

Both of you stay in the same position all night making sure his cock never slips out of you. When you wake early in the morning you don't feel Bucky around. Sitting up, you feel wet under you. Looking down and seeing a big wet patch where you must have leaked out when Bucky left. Looking up at the door you see him "Where did you go Bucky?" "Had to use the bathroom sweetheart. What's wrong?" "I- I uh leaked and wet the bed" "Aw that's okay doll," He says climbing back onto the bed kissing you and laying you back down. "I'm just going to have to fill you up again," He says with a smirk on his face making you laugh. "I won't say no to that handsome"

[allthingsfangirl101]

The Reason I Quit – Steve Harrington

I held the test in my shaking hands as I went over the possibilities of how he could react to this. Sure, Steve and I have been dating for two years and are in love. We've even talked about spending the rest of our lives together. But this is big.

About six months ago, Steve and I moved into his parents' house. They moved to California after the "earthquake". When they moved, Steve begged me to move in with him and I did.

This changes things now. A baby changes our situation.

I looked at the clock on the wall and took a shaky breath. Steve would be home in a little over an hour. Which meant all I had to do was distract myself until he got home. To do this, I cleaned as much of the house as I could. Before I knew it, the front door opened and closed.

"Y/N?" Steve called out from the front door. "Where are you, baby?"

I cringed at the last word. I walked out of the laundry room, nervously playing with my hands. I headed downstairs, holding my breath as I waited for Steve to come into view.

"There you are," he smiled. He walked over, took me in his arms, and pressed his lips to mine. He broke the kiss when he realized I wasn't kissing him back.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" He asked as he studied me.

"I umm. . . I'm just not feeling that well today," I whimped out. Steve reached forward and felt my forehead.

"You don't have a fever," he noted. "Any nausea? Dizziness? Have you been able to eat anything today?"

"Just some crackers," I said honestly. "I feel like I have a rock in my stomach."

"How about this," he started to suggest with a smile on his face, "we order some soup from our favorite diner. I'll run you a bubble bath while we wait. When the food gets here, we'll sit on the couch and watch your favorite comfort movie. Then we'll retire early and you can fall asleep as I rub your back."

"I love you," I sighed.

"I love you too, gorgeous," he said with a small chuckle. "Let's get your bath started and then I'll order dinner."

* * * * *

I didn't tell him.

We went through the night just like he said and I fell asleep with the secret looming over me. The next day he went to work and I snuck to the doctor. Luckily, she didn't ask me who the father was, but she did clarify that I was pregnant. After she confirmed it, I knew I needed to tell Steve.

To keep myself calm while waiting for Steve to come home, I put my feet in the jacuzzi. I didn't bother to go inside and greet him when he got home. I knew he'd find me. He always did.

"Hey, gorgeous," Steve said as he walked over. "You feeling any better?"

"A little," I shrugged as he kicked off his shoes and sat next to me. I smiled when he reached over and felt my forehead. "I didn't have a temperature yesterday and I still don't have one today."

I giggled when he leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Just checking," he smirked as he pulled away. "Are you sure you're alright? You've been acting kinda strange lately."

"Just worried," I stuttered.

"Baby," he sighed, "we got rid of Vecna. It's been safe for almost a year now."

"I know," I said slowly. "I'm still. . ."

"Hey," he whispered, scooting closer to me. "You know I'll protect you from anything that comes our way. I love you, Y/N. Nothing is going to change that."

I really hoped he meant that.

"I love you too, Steve."

A little while later, we were still by the pool, but we were sitting in the pool chairs. I subconsciously placed my hands delicately on my stomach.

"I'm gonna have a cigarette," Steve sighed as he pulled one out and lit it. Without looking, he handed me the container. He looked over at me when he noticed me not taking one. "You're not?"

"No," I said slowly. He lowered his hand as he studied me.

"Is everything okay, babe?" He asked, his voice soft.

"I need to tell you something," I whispered. He placed his cigarette in the ashtray on the small table between our beach chairs. He turned toward me and grabbed my hands, turning me toward him.

"Talk to me, gorgeous," he whispered.

"I don't want you to be angry," I admitted under my breath.

"I promise I won't get angry," Steve said instantly with a small smile on his face. He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "What's on your mind, gorgeous?"

"I'm pregnant," I blurted out, making Steve's hand freeze inches from my face. He stared at me as he slowly lowered his hand.

"Are you. . . Really?" He whispered. I bit back my tears as I nodded. With the hand that he had frozen in the air, Steve reached forward and caught a tear that had escaped. His voice softened as he asked, "Why are you crying, my love?"

"What are you thinking?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"I'm thinking how absolutely amazing this is," he chuckled.

"Really?"

"Of course," he said, his smile falling as he finally dropped his hand. "Why wouldn't I be happy? We've been together for two years, in love for most of that. We've talked about spending the rest of our lives together. Y/N, you're the love of my life and you're pregnant with someone that I'm gonna love just as much as I love you."

"It changes our plan," I whispered.

"I know that," he nodded. "But all it changes is now we're adding one other person to our future. That's an amazing thing."

"But Hawkins. . . A lot of crazy things have happened here in the past five years."

"And we will protect our child from all of it," he said instantly. "Or we could move away."

"You'd really move away from Hawkins? From those kids?"

"For you and our child? I'd go anywhere and do anything for our family."

I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. I felt him smile as he started kissing me back. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. He looked away and grabbed his lit cigarette. I watched as he put it out.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm quitting."

"But. . ."

"You're not smoking because it's dangerous for the baby," he pointed out the obvious. "I'm not smoking anymore because I want to show you that we're on the same team."

I smiled as he stood up and pulled me with him. He started to walk inside but stopped when he noticed I hadn't moved.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"What if I can't do this?" I asked under my breath. Steve instantly pulled me into his chest.

"You can do this," he reassured. "You are going to be an amazing mother, Y/N."

"I'm scared," I whispered into his shirt. I felt him take a slow breath.

"I know, gorgeous," he whispered back. He pulled out of the hug and smiled down at me. "To be honest, I am too. But that's okay. We've got each other. And this amazing, awesome, badass baby has both of us. We're in this together. Every step of the way."

Masterlist

[stevieschrodinger]

Baker Steve/Rock Star Eddie wrong number AU

Part One

Part Two

PART THREE

"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."

"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"

"Yeah, like a series."

"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"

"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"

"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someones entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."

Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.

"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"

"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"

"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.

Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"

"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."

Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.

Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'

And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.

There's preemptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.

"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."

Steve's heart fucking melts.

Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.

"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing."

"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"

"Yeah. Still not my thing-"

"Oh."

"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."

"...yeah?"

"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."

"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"

"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."

"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.

"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."

"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all. Steve doesn't know how he;s keeping his tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.

"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."

"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."

"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."

"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."

And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.

@steves-yellow-cardigin @melodymeddler @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao

@superduckmilkshake @she-collects-smut @paintsplatteredandimperfect @resident-gay-bitch