#he flirts terribly with Steve

[inkstainedheartbeats]

Wayne hefts the heavy sack of potatoes into the shipping bin, makes sure the runes on the sides of the box lights up before moving off. He don’t much trust magic or in particular the old wizard deep in the forest’s magic not to just crap out on him and Ma.

Speaking of Ma, she hobbles out of the chicken coop. Shoulders still held as high as she can get them, her limp slowing her down like rain does a frog, which is to say not at all. She’s got a line of feathered friends following her as she moves.

“Ya check the trees yet?”

“Not yet. Just got out of the greenhouse and the tater fields. How the lasses do?”

Ma makes a face.

“Either snakes got in the coop or Corey has reached the age where she don’t wanna lay anymore. Might need to go to the Henderson’s and get another. Have a feeling a few of the chicks are roosters.”

He nods. It’s always nice to see Claudia. Susan’s a little surly but considering the gossip that’s spread he don’t blame her much for it.

“After the trees. Be careful in the barn.”

“Wayne Arlow Munson, I am old not fragile. Now get.”

He doesn’t contradict her, but they both know that’s a lie. It’s the reason he’s here and not working nights in some plant that leaves his face covered in muck. It’s why the others pop in and out like gophers in the spring. Ma ain’t faring well and Daddy ain’t here to help her anymore.

He gets, checking the fruit trees all nice and lined up. Harvests what’s there, cleans up the weeds, picking any seeds or fiber that drops as he does. Unlike the potato harvest there’s not enough fruit to ship just yet. Cuts down south, making notes of what fences need mending and if there are errant trees where there shouldn’t be. Hits the beehives Ma has set up, snags one of the jars for Susan, and knows if he doesn’t give a peach to Claudia his Ma will tan his hide.

He doesn’t know it yet but there’s going to be a new face there that’s going to cause some chaos.

[ickypuppi3]

i do think it’s funny how, canonically, billy is kinda shitty at flirting and has the most god awful pick up lines but it just works for him because he’s pretty

[navybrat817]

Just Like That

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier. Word Count: Almost 5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.

If only that were the case.

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.

“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.

You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?

Right.

You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.

Just the two of you.

“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”

“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”

“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.

He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.

Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?

Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.

“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.

“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”

You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?

“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.

He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”

You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”

With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”

“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.

“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”

“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.

Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”

“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.

The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.

Not that you had to do any acting on your part.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.

“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.

The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.

Again, he had to play the part right.

You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.

Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.

And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.

Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.

Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”

You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.

“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”

You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.

Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”

“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”

“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.

“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.

He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”

“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.

“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.

In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.

Just an agent being kind to another agent.

Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”

Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.

Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.

Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?

“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”

“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.

Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.

He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”

“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”

He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.

His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.

“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.

“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.

The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”

It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.

“I’m curious,” he shrugged.

“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”

“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”

You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”

“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.

You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”

Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”

Oh, fuck.

The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”

“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”

“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”

Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.

He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.

You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.

You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.

Now wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.

Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.

“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.

Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-

The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.

And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.

“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”

He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”

“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”

“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”

You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.

He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”

“Why not?”

“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”

“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”

“Of course,” he whispered.

You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”

A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”

You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”

Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.

“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”

“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”

He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.

You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.

You never stood a chance.

“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”

Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”

A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.

He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.

Like he wanted to own you.

His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”

Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.

Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.

You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.

“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”

You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.

And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.

“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.

“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?

He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”

Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.

His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”

“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.

“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”

It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”

He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.

You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.

“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.

Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.

Crave him.

“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”

Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.

You’d take whatever he gave you.

The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.

“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.

“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.

One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.

“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”

“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”

He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.

You didn't want him to let you go.

“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”

He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”

“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.

The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.

You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.

“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.

“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.

Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.

“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.

“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”

“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.

“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”

“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”

“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.

Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”

I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ghast1yghosts]

race car driver steve and pit crew eddie

flirting during pit stops. always seems like it’s going to lead somewhere but never does. eventually, as he’s heading to the track, steve tells eddie he’ll take him out *when* he wins. not if.

—

“she handles fine”

“can’t say the same thing about me”

“yeah?”

“hm”

“i think i could handle you”

“you say that to all the crew?”

“just the pretty ones”

—

“all oiled up and ready to go?”

“always for you harrington.

.. oh you mean the car”

“yeah, munson—the car. i already make enough pit stops as is.”

—

“we have a problem.”

“what? why what’s wrong??”

“you didn’t say anything about my outfit”

“…

turn around for me.

it makes your rear view look, *fantastic*”

“call my ass ‘my rear view’ again-“

“HEY! you ASKED THIS TIME”

“YEAH. *THIS TIME*”

—

“that engine isn’t the only thing i’m good at revving up.”

“…is that- are you-“

*shrug*

“UGH. i hate that that worked. that was TERRIBLE.”

“:)”

see, when steve finally gets the guts to actually commit to being serious, to genuinely asking eddie out afterwards, win or not, it goes a little something like this…

“Racers, please make your way to the start line.”

“Eddie?” He walks over as Steve pushes his helmet over his head, flattening his coiffed hair.

“Yeah?”

“After this race, when I win,” Oh, oh, is this going where he thinks it’s going? Is this Steve finally taking a chance on this grease rat? Surely n- “Would you let me take you out for dinner…?”

Eddie blinks at him, staring at his honey-brown eyes boring into him, from the tiny opening in his helmet.

“Yes,” his brain seems to reboot and gather enough coherence to spit out an answer, “Yeah, yes, please.” He can tell Steve smiles at him from the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I’d like that.”

“Cool,” Steve snaps his chin strap and tightens it. As he goes to slip on his gloves, Eddie walks up to him. He grabs onto the strap and tightens it himself just to make sure.

“Good luck,” he says, gripping Steve’s shoulder for a moment.

“Don’t need it, but thanks,” playfully snarky, he bends and gets into the car. Eddie laughs at the antics and backs up further into the pit, matching Steve’s cute little wave before he drives away.

For the first time in a long time, Eddie couldn’t care less about winning. He can’t wait for this to be over; the real prize is a long-awaited date.

But, until then, it’s game time.

—

Watching the screen in the pit till the racers turn the corner and come into view. Eddie keeps a close eye on his car—Steve’s kept good pacing most of the leg, leading a few laps, too. He’s due back for a stop soon, but until he can get out of the way of the other racers, they’re too packed for him to make any sort of maneuver. When those cars get like that, Eddie feels like he’s on the edge of a freefall. Not actually, because nothing ever happens, but it feels like something will. Every time.

Besides the scars and a dusty jumpsuit somewhere, that’s the only thing that sticks around from Eddie’s crash. Because that’s what it was, a crash. And a bad one. A side hit that jerked him into another, airborne before rolling, and rolling, and rolling. Getting pulled out, dazed and bleeding, while flames and sirens roared in his ears.

And although there’s more protection and safety precautions now, it still doesn’t make that night any better.

Steve makes another lap. He’s still boxed in close—extremely close. It’s a recipe for disaster, and they all know it.

Eddie’s eyes dart to the pack of cars crossing into his field of vision, and he sees it, someone side hits someone. Someone jerks–and clips 86.

It happens in slow motion. Like becoming untethered—realizing, yeah, you’re in freefall. The world feels like it’s moving at 1/8th the pace. Steve flies over the other drivers and into the catch fences.

Eddie barely registers he’s already moving into the pit track.

86 spins out, absolutely streded to the barebones. Slowing only to get hit again and into the run-off.

“STEVE!” Eddie’s out, running full speed to the remaining inners of the car. Static and ringing fills his ears. He can feel the way his heart is threating to fucking beat out of his goddamn chest. A mantra of “nononononono. not again. not to him,” screaming in his head.

For a speedway packed with people and maxed out speakers, it’s eerily quiet to him. Everything falling away, feeling sureal, like this is some fucked up nightmare—till he gets his hand on the smoking car. Noise comes rushing back all at once, too loud.

“STEVE!” voice gone hoarse, he yells out into the metal. He can see his vision blurring with tears, fear creeping onto him a tenfold. Eddie ducks down and looks into the smashed up window.

“I’m here!” It’s muffled, but at least he can see the dark tracksuit as the source. Eddie frantically reaches for Steve’s hand, and when he gets it clasped in his own, he tugs.

“I’m okay.” A feeble attempt to reassure him, he’ll believe those words from Steve Harrington when he sees it for himself.

Steve coughs as he puts his other hand on the edge of the door and tries to reef himself out. And Eddie tries to help out the best he can. About halfway out, Steve shifts and lets go.

Logically—well, not logically actually, Eddie’s acting on pure adrenaline at this point, all logic out the window—Steve’s just getting his hands under him rather than over, more leverage that way. But Eddie needs. to. get. him. out. of the car that’s currently on fucking fire.

As soon as Steve starts moving again, Eddie’s already wrapped his arms around his chest and is pulling him the rest of the way out. He kneels in front of him and tries to unclasp the strap. Hands so shaky, he can barely get his fingers to push down before gloved hands push them away. While he attempts to help Steve yank his helmet off, it’s feeble. That golden hair flops out, and the helmet gets tossed to the side; Eddie roams his hands over Steve’s face, looking for any visible damage.

Suddenly, warm hands circle his wrists, and Steve makes him meet his eyes.

The world comes bursting back in.

“-ddie? Hey? I’m okay. I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay-“

His face is wet. He’s practically in Steve’s lap, too. One of those hands drop his wrist and cup the back of head.

“Eddie. I’m okay,” Steve says. God, the sound that punches it’s way out of his chest sounds inhuman even in his ears.

There, a few feet away from the pile of rubble, Eddie engulfs Steve in his arms, tucking his face into the neck of old leather. He can feel Steve finally let go of him to give the cameras and the crew that surrounds them, a one handed thumbs up.

Eddie can’t help let out a soft laugh with Steve at the collective sigh of relief. He gets that arm wrapped back around him, giving him a tight squeeze. Steve ducks his face over to talk into his ear, “I’m okay. I’ll have a hell of a bruise no doubt, but I promise I’m okay.”

“Fucking better be,” Eddie mutters as he pulls away, hastily wiping his face. Steve huffs at him.

“Are *you* okay?”

“You did not just ask me that.” Eddie pushes himself off the man, offering Steve his hands and hoisting him up, too. He tests his footing, and it's shaky–something is definitely hurting.

“Eddie…” The fucker has the audacity to turn those sad down-turned puppy eyes on him. Steve knows how bad his wreak was, and it fits him too, to care more about Eddie than himself.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m standing, aren’t I?” Steve gestures a bit, Medic in his ear asking him to follow her. Because they’re still in the middle of the run-off, the game paused till Steve gets the okay, and they continue without him anyway.

“Does that sound reassuring to you?” Eddie crosses his arms.

“Hey-“ Steve shrugs, “-couldn’t miss our date, right?”

And, honest to god, Eddie would throttle him right now. But he can’t.

So, he does the next best thing.

Eddie Munson, pit crew of 86 and crash survivor, crosses the couple steps between him and Steve Harrington, current 86 racer and, hopefully, his boyfriend, and kisses him.

“I’m holding you to that.”

Steve smiles wide and pivots with his hand out for Eddie to take. And Eddie does.

They start following the Medic, but Steve turns around and flashes his goofy grin again, giving everyone in the stadium a thumbs-up.

Eddie laughs as the crowd roars.

[lokigodofmyheart]

JEALOUS

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Summary: You and Bucky had been dating for almost 8 months now. You loved him and he loved you. But your sexual desires weren't completely satisfied. Bucky never went more than a soft and gentle sex, afraid to hurt you. 

Warning/Content: smut, edgind/orgasm denial/ bathroom sex.

MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Y/N and Bucky had been dating for almost 8 months now. She loved him, but she was missing something in the sexual area. Bucky was amazing, of course, but because of his strength and his past, he was always afraid to hurt her so the sex was always too soft, too sweet. And she wanted more.  

After talking with Natasha while they got ready for the party, she decided to follow her friend’s advice: make him jealous. So that’s what she did. A little after the party had started, she went to the bar to get another drink, and a handsome man started talking with her. She knew he was flirting with her.  

At normal days, she would cut him off, say she had a boyfriend. But tonight, she wanted to make Bucky jealous, so she smiled and started talking with the guy. Bucky, from the table, took a sip of his drink watching his girlfriend laugh with the strange. 

His jaw had clenched, and his hands tightened around the glass. Steve could notice his friend was tense. He was trying his best to stay in his place. Watching Y/N having fun with another man, letting him touch her arm, giggling to something he said… Yeah Bucky was not happy about this at all. 

“Careful. You’ll break the glass.” Steve says to him with a small smile. Bucky barely heard it, his eyes fix on Y/N and the man. He decided he had enough, standing up and walking to them. 

The guy, named Chris, had asked her about her favorite color. Y/N opened her mouth do answer, but she was cut short when Bucky grabbed her arm firmly, pulling her close to him. His eyes were dark and intense as he spoke. “We need to talk, doll.” 

“Bucky, hey.” Y/N smiles innocently “I’m talking with this nice gentleman right now.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrow as he sees you smile, he clenches his jaw for a moment before he speaks again. His voice is low and firm “No, doll. You’re coming with me. Now.” He didn’t wait for a response. Bucky’s grip on her arm was firm as he practically dragged you away from the man. She could see the anger in his eyes and for a moment she wondered if she pushed him too much.  

“Bucky, what are you doing...?” She asks, but received no answer as he kept pulling her with him, until they finally reach the restroom. He almost shoved her inside the place, locking the door behind them.  

He turned to her, his eyes dark and intense as he spoke “What the hell were you doing?” Bucky demands, his voice low and dangerous. He’s still angry, his eyes dark with jealousy. 

“I was just having a conversation.” 

Bucky scoffs at her response, stepping closer to her, his body almost towering over her frame as he continues “Just talking? Is that what you call flirting now, doll? Smiling, giggling, letting him touch you?” Bucky pushed her against the wall, trapping her with his body “What was that, doll? You were trying to make me jealous?” 

“No...” 

He raises an eyebrow, not buying your lie, he can tell that she was trying to make him jealous, and it worked. He leans in closer, his voice dropping even lower “Doll, you’re a terrible liar. I know what you were doing. You were trying to get a rise out of me, weren’t you?” 

A small smirk appeared on her lips “Maybe...” 

The man smirks, his eyes darkening with desire and possessiveness “You really thought that flirting with another man in front of me would be a good idea doll? You really thought that I would just sit there and watch some guy touch you, knowing you’re mine?” His hands moving to her hips, his grip tight as he holds her in place “You’re mine, doll. Mine. And no one else gets to touch you the way I do. Understand?” 

Y/N’s smirks get wider. He notices it and raises an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and annoyance on his expression “Oh, you think this is funny, doll? You like playing games, don’t you? Let’s play one then.” 

His hands went under her dress, between her legs. He looked at her a little surprised when he felt the soaked fabric “You’re soaked already...?” 

A small moan came from her lips when he touched her, teasing her through the fabric of her now damped panties. 

“You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?” Bucky spoke with his voice low “You've been teasing me all night, doll... You were asking for this. You wanted me to snap, didn't you?”  

His hands lifted her dress enough to expose her legs and her lacy panties. His lips found her neck, trailing up to her ear while he rubbed her clit through the fabric of the panties “You’re mine.” 

Another moan came from her lips. She wanted nothing more than his hands on her, really touching her. Bucky smirks at the sounds of your moans. He's enjoying the effect he has on you, the way your body responds to his touch "You like that, doll? You like me touching you like this?" 

“Yes...” 

“Good." He continues kissing her neck before he pulled back, looking at her, his eyes dark, filled with jealous and desire "You thought you could flirt with another man and make me jealous, doll. Well, you got what you wanted." His hands ripped her underwear off her body, making Y/N left a surprised gasp.  

He smirks at her surprised expression, his eyes dark and intense when he touched her folds again, making a moan coming out from her lips again. Bucky run his fingers on her before he stopped at her clit, rubbing it slowly. He watched her face, hearing her moans, teasing her, building the moment and when she was close, he pulled his hand away.  

Y/N whines in complaining, looking at him. He then changed his hand from his metal one, doing the same thing. The metal was cold against her wet pussy, and again, when she was close to her orgasm, he stopped and pull his hand away.  

She let out a frustrated noise “Bucky...” 

Bucky looks at her with a smug expression "Yes, doll?" 

“Please...” 

He raises an eyebrow at her plea. He was enjoying teasing her far too much, he didn't want to give in so easily after her little stunt. His hand went back to rub her ever so slightly "Please what?" Y/N moans again. “Use your words, doll." He whispered as he continued rubbing her, but not letting she reach that sweet release, his movements slow and steady. 

“Please...” She says in a moan.  

"Please, what? You're going to have to tell me what you want." He continues to rub her clit slowly, loving how desperate she was. 

She took a breath, trying to stead her voice “...let me cum.” 

He smirks at her demand, his fingers rubbing a little faster "You want to come, doll? You want to come that badly?" Her head nods, her eyes showing how desperate she wants after being denied two times now.  "Beg for it.” his lips by her ear as he whispers. 

“Please, Bucky...please.” She starts to feel her orgasm building again.  

Bucky smirks at her pleading, his fingers rubbing your even faster making her moan a little louder "Please, what, doll? You have to be specific." 

“Please, let me cum...please.” Her voice sound so desperate, he had never heard her like that. 

He leans in even closer, his hand stopping mid-circle and he whispers in her ear again "Say you're mine, doll" 

A frustrated sound escaped her again, when he stopped for the third time.  

“I’m yours. Please...” 

He smirks at her words, his hand starts moving again "That's right doll. You're mine. No one else can touch you.” 

Her head nods “I’m your.”  

His hand finally starts moving faster, giving what she wanted. This time, Bucky didn’t stop when she was close, he rubbed her clit faster, putting a little more pressure and in seconds he watched as she fell apart. Her legs trembled with the strength of her orgasm.  He brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks them "You taste so good, doll.” 

She was a little surprised when he took a step back, pulling her with him. He turned her around and bend her over the sink of the bathroom. He leans in close to her ear, his voice low "But we're not done yet, doll. I'm still not satisfied"  

His hand went between their bodies, holding his cock as he positioned at her entrance. He wasn’t gentle when he pushed inside of her with one hard thrust of his hips, making her moan. He didn’t give her any time to get used.  

Bucky’s hips started moving in a fast and hard pace, putting all his frustration of the night on her. And she was loving every second of it. His metal hand went to her hair, wrapping around it and pulling back. 

Y/N moans at the feeling. Bucky moved ever harder, pulling her hair back “You’re mine. You understand that?” She nods.  He growls as he moves harder, deeper and he pulls on her hair again “Say it.”  

“I’m yours.” She says moaning.  

He leans and speaks in her ear again “That’s right, you’re mine. All mine. No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to make you feel this way” 

She nods again. The situation and the way he were fucking her hard, keeping her on the sink, was too much and soon her walls started clenching around his cock. Her moans started to get louder and more frequently until she finally orgasmed.  

Bucky was close. His movements tarted to get more erratic and uneven, and feeling her coming around him like that was his breaking point. He let a low groan when he finally cum inside of his girlfriend.  

They stood there, silence for a few seconds, trying to catch their breaths. Bucky was the first one to speak, his voice gentle, a contrast from previously “Are you okay?” 

Y/N nods, not moving from the sink. Bucky pulled out of her carefully, and helped her back on her feet and turning her to look at him. He watches the tired smile on her face while he fixed her dress and his pants, before he pulled her to his arms in a embrace “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” She smiles. 

He looked at her, still with a worried expression, brushing some hair from her face “I wasn’t too rough?” 

���It was perfect. Really.” 

Bucky smiles back, reassured by her words. He leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss on her forehead “Good, I didn’t want to hurt you, doll.” 

“You didn’t.” She looks at him, before speaking again “You know I love you, right? I only flirt with that guy to get a reaction out of you.” 

Bucky smirks at her words, he had a feeling that that was what she was doing but it was still good to hear a confirmation “So you were just trying to make me jealous, huh?” 

Y/N chuckles and nods “And it worked. Maybe I should make you jealous more often if it means sex like this.” 

His hands tightened on her, his voice turned almost to a growl “Don’t you dare.” 

[blessyouhawkeye]

the thing about steve harrington is that he's one of the most compelling characters of all time. he starts the show an extremely popular jock and now he's got two friends: a girl he had a crush on that turned out to be a lesbian and a fourteen year old. the only fight he's ever won in his life was against a soviet spy. he keeps a bat full of nails in his car. he barely graduated high school. he beat up a racist. he's terrible at flirting. he has daddy issues. he spends an entire season wearing a little sailor outfit, hat included. and he's even bisexual

[sundaynightlive]

Character Development (Steddie)

“If I were you… I would get her back.”

Steve snaps suddenly out of his trance—Eddie’s a pretty boy to look at. Dangerously so. In fact, half of this conversation has gone completely over his head, which is probably why he’s misinterpreted it completely.

“Hold on—pause,” he says, perplexed, “We’re not flirting?” They stop walking in unison, Eddie freezing out of shock, Steve anticipating it. Eddie looks at him, wide eyed, jaw going slack and then taught like he can’t decide which conveys his surprise better.

“I… what?”

“I was just making eyes at you,” Steve says, and then groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God damn it, I’ve really lost my touch.”

“No!” Eddie exclaims quickly, “Ah, no.” He’s flustered. Steve sees the flush in his face—he’s not trying to hide it. “No it’s… it’s working. I just didn’t think… you’re into guys?” Steve shrugs.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, and then Eddie bumps his shoulder into Steve’s and they continue walking, easing out of the tension.

“So… how long?”

“How long what?”

“Have you known?” Eddie clarifies, and Steve notices their knuckles are brushing between them. He gazes up at Rob and Nancy, who are blissfully unaware.

“Well… someone came out to me recently so I started looking into it, called my uncle—man, that was an awkward conversation.”

“Your uncle?”

“Oh—he’s gay—has a partner and stuff. They live in California and we visited sometimes when my parents still took me places, you know.” Eddie blinks at him, nodding his head a little bit, but doesn’t look like he’s fully comprehending anything Steve’s saying at all. Steve takes a turn bumping Eddie’s shoulder, thinking maybe it’ll jolt awake some of those gears in his brain.

Their pinkies hook.

“So… what was the conclusion?” Eddie asks, like he doesn’t already know.

“I’ve had nasty thoughts about Harrison Ford way too many times to be straight,” Steve admits cheekily, “He said I’m bi, I guess. It means—“

“I know what it means, Steve.” Steve grins at him, a little sheepish, and Eddie smiles back, something soft and personal. It’s an expression Steve hasn’t seen him make yet, even with all his damn theatrics. To be fair, Steve’s growing quite fond of those theatrics, premature as it might be.

“So, go on,” Steve teases, “What were you saying about me getting back with my ex?

“Hmm, I don’t recall saying anything like that,” Eddie responds.

“Oh really?”

“Really. In fact, that’s a terrible idea. Bad for character development.” Steve laughs then—fully laughs—a sound that must be revolutionary for the Upside Down. No one has ever laughed here, no way.

“Character development?”

“Indeed.”

[hairmetal666]

Steve who goes on a Bake Off type show after Robin, Dustin, and Max set him up as a contestant. He doesn't want to, doesn't think baking or cooking should be stressful, but he's been wallowing since his knee surgery took him out of work and basketball, since his divorce.

His first day on set, he's totally gobsmacked by the sexy host with all the tattoos and long, curly hair. Just, cannot take his eyes off the guy, blushing and stammering whenever he comes around to do interviews, obviously can't stop starring.

After the first day, where he manages to stay comfortably in the middle of the pack, he calls Robin to complain about what a mess he becomes around this gorgeous dude.

Her response is to cackle and say, "Steve! How do you not know who Eddie Munson is? Oh my god, you're a disaster."

Turns out, Eddie Munson is the lead singer of Dustin's favorite band, Corroded Coffin, and also pretty well-known for his dnd YouTube channel. He's been a host on the show for years, only Steve doesn't really pay attention when the others watch it and didn't know.

Eddie, for his part, is losing his mind. He'd known about the beautiful contestant for this season, former college basketball superstar turned coach, having a hell of a shitty year after dislocating his kneecap in a charity game. Eddie--foolishly, it turns out--thought he wouldn't be as attractive in person. He also expected Steve to be terrible and egotistical, a jock through and through.

So, when Steve Harrington walks into the tent in a short-sleeved polo and obviously ironed jeans and is still drop-dead gorgeous, he's fucking flabbergasted. And then Steve has the audacity to be nice? Kind and thoughtful and running to help other bakers when he still has work to do himself? He also blushes so pretty, high across his nose and cheeks, and god does hewant to be the reason Steve blushes like that.

Eddie is beside himself.

Leading up to the second week, Steve schools himself into being calm around Eddie. He can't afford to lose his cool like that every time the host is around. Except, this week Eddie flirts with him shamelessly. Winks at him, leans into space, calls him "m'lord" with this deeply resonant voice that makes Steve want to drop to his knees. Steve doesn't mean to, not really, but he flirts right back, feeding Eddie tidbits of his bakes and looking for any excuse to touch him.

Steve does well for the first half of episodes. He never wins the technical or star baker, but he's regularly within the top contestants. On episode five, though, something is off. He's distracted, forgetful, doesn't leave enough time for his custard to set in the signature. Eddie asks if he's okay, but Steve shrugs and smiles, says "off my game today."

But then, in the technical, he curdles his buttercream more than once, and his genoise sponge burns. Eddie watches as Steve folds his arms above his head and disappears from view. He doesn't hesitate, he sprints from his interview, falling to his knees in front of the contestant.

"Stevie, sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I get migraines," Steve whispers. Trails of wet streak down his cheeks. "I've felt one coming all morning, been trying to stave it off but--"

"Okay, okay," Eddie shakes out his hands. "You can sit out this challenge, yeah? Or take this weekend off. It happens. You'll come back next week--"

"I don't want to stop." More tears fall from his eyes.

"What do you need?"

Steve shakes his head, wry little smile pulling at his lips. "Time to breathe."

Eddie glances up, eyes catching on the camera crew hovering in front of them. He throws both middle fingers up and says, in the most reasonable and even tone, "fuck!" Everyone in the tent looks at him, but he doesn't stop. "Shit!" "Bitch!" Motherfucker!" He goes on and on, saying the filthiest series of things he can think of. The camera crew steps away, another contestant brings Steve a glass of water, and Eddie sits with him.

The other host announces that there are thirty minutes remaining in the challenge.

"Well. That's that, then," Steve says. He stands, patting the naked skin of Eddie's knee where it shows through the rip in his jeans as he goes.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Out of time, no cake, no buttercream."

Eddie hops to his feet. "You're going to let that stop you?"

"Well." Steve laughs. "Can't serve this." He gestures to his discarded bowls of frosting, his burnt cake.

"You have time to make another buttercream."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Sure, but not the cake."

"Cut the burnt off. Cover it in the buttercream. Easy peasy."

"Okay..." Steve stares at his station. "Okay, that could work. It won't be pretty, but--"

Eddie, knowing he's no longer needed, steps away, and Steve gets to work.

Steve tells Robin all about it and, as soon as he gets home from the taping and she's immediately like, "Eddie Munson, huh?"

He shoots her a look. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, him leaping over a table to check on you is surely nothing."

"Robin," he warns.

"What?"

"Eddie would never want a guy like me."

She laughs but quickly grows sober. "Steve. Of course he would. He likes you."

"It's nothing, really." He walks towards the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner?"

Eddie experiences the same harassment from his band members and their manager.

"You're gonna ask Harrington out, right?" Gareth asks.

"That would be a little bit of a professional conflict of interest," he deadpans. He doesn't look up from his guitar.

A puffed Cheeto smacks him square in the forehead. "Hey!" He shrieks.

"He means once the season is done, Edward," Chrissy says.

He wipes the cheese dust from his forehead. "Not a good enough reason to call me Edward. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he's straight."

Jeff guffaws. "C'mon, dude. No way. He's so into you he might as well have a neon sign."

"He divorced a woman."

"That doesn't mean anything, and you know it," Chrissy says.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I may be considering asking him out. Maybe."

Everyone cheers. More Cheetos hit him in the face.

---

To Steve's great surprise, he makes it to the finals. Not just makes it, he gets a star baker, gets first in the semi-final technical. He's baking in the final and might have a fucking chance.

It's with great surprise, once it's all said and done, that he hears his name announced as the winner. He doesn't have much time to process it, because Eddie is striding towards him. He's not carrying the cake stand trophy or flowers, it's just Eddie.

Eddie who stops in front of him, eyes shining. Eddie who leans in and whispers, "I knew you could do it, baby, I'm so proud of you." Eddie who twines his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss.

The internet explodes as the season airs. Everyone is obsessed with Steve and Eddie. They have fics on ao3, a dedicated tumblr community, edits, playlists, gif sets, a ship name all dedicated to them. The fandom grows after episode 5 airs. Not all the footage makes it, thanks to Eddie, but they still witness him tenderly taking care of Steve and directing the cameras away. Fans start scouring their social medias, looking for any hint of their relationship status; even beg them in comments and DMs to reveal if it was just a showmance.

Eddie and Steve, however, are happy in the quiet little world the carved out for themselves after filming. They aren't ready to reveal anything, even hints, whether or not the show would let them.

Then, the final airs and the kiss is revealed to the world. The ending title cards show a picture of Steve with the rest of the season's bakers and the caption, "Steve threw a party for the other bakers..."

The picture then changes to one of he and Eddie, arms wrapped around each other. This caption says: "...at the home he shares with his boyfriend Eddie."

That night, in bed, Steve says, "I'm really glad Robin and the kids made me go on the show. But do you think it's bad that the thing I'm happiest about, way more than winning, is that I met you?"

Eddie places a slow circle of kisses in the dip of Steve's lower back. "Sweetheart, I'd be disappointed if you said anything else. Now, hush, I have a baking champion to congratulate."

[solarmorrigan]

Top-Notch

written for @steddiemicrofic | prompt: top | wc: 510 | rated: E | cw: none | additional tags: no Upside Down/modern AU, top Eddie/bottom Steve, praise kink

“Keep the change,” Eddie says, sliding double what he owes across the bar. “Top-notch service, sweetheart.”

One of the perks of being a rich rockstar: he can tip as much as he damn well pleases (and, in the case of the handsome bartender working the practically empty hotel bar, who’s been flirting with him unceasingly, Eddie damn well pleases to tip a lot).

The bartender, Steve, reaches out and takes the money without once taking his eyes off of Eddie. “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?” he asks, and there’s really no mistaking his tone, or the way his tongue darts out to wet soft, pink lips. “If I really wanted to go above and beyond?”

“Well…” Eddie draws it out, like he really has to think about it. “I think I could use a little help turning down the sheets. The bed in my room is awfully big.”

It’s a terrible line, but Steve just smiles and tells him, “I’m off at midnight.”

-

Steve is perfect. Better than anything Eddie could have imagined, bitchy and bossy and beautiful, sitting in Eddie’s lap and riding his cock like he was born for it.

He’s all tan skin stretched over lean muscle, dusted with hair and dotted liberally with moles and freckles, powerful thighs and a perfect, round ass that Eddie’s hands have been glued to practically since his underwear came off.

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie rasps, thrusting up hard to hear Steve moan. “Doing so good.”

Steve lets out another noise at that, something almost like a whimper, and Eddie grins.

“You like that?” he asks, punctuating the question with a little squeeze to Steve’s ass. “You like it when I tell you what a good job you’re doing?”

Almost hesitantly, Steve nods, and Eddie is sure to reward him.

“Do you want to hear how pretty you are, how perfect, fucking yourself on my cock?”

“Oh, fuck,” Steve groans, hands clenching where he’s braced against Eddie’s chest.

“You take it like a dream, Steve,” Eddie croons, thrusting up to meet him on every downward stroke, aiming for that spot he’d found earlier with just his fingers buried inside of Steve, the spot that had made him sing. “Fucking mesmerizing, such a good fucking boy.”

He knows he’s struck gold when Steve cries out, head thrown back and showing off the arch of his throat as he works himself down faster, trying to keep Eddie right where it feels best.

“Eddie,” Steve begs, “fucking touch me.”

Eddie can’t do anything but oblige, wrapping his hand around Steve’s cock and tugging him until he comes hot across Eddie’s belly, and then Eddie can’t do anything but follow, still pressed up deep inside of him, filling the condom with a groan.

“So?” Steve asks, some minutes later as he lies beside Eddie, still catching his breath. “How was my service?”

Eddie’s head falls back against the pillow with a laugh. “Five out of five stars, sweetheart. Gonna write you the best fucking Yelp review you’ve ever had.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

top shelf pretty

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘top’

rated t | 510 words | cw: alcohol, mention of recreational drug use | tags: flirting, drunk shenanigans, getting together, implied happy ending

🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃

Eddie’s never had top shelf anything, not even that time Wayne took him to a fancy restaurant to celebrate his graduation. He liked cheap shit that got you drunk fast and hungover faster.

So when Steve decided to have a party for all the adults, dragging out his dad’s $300 bottle of whiskey and his mom’s most cherished champagne, Eddie went at it the same way he would have with anything else. He was disappointed to find that five shots of whiskey didn’t seem to do much for him.

“You gotta let it sit, man,” Argyle smiled at him, already crossfaded. “Good shit takes time.”

He would’ve thought the opposite, but whatever.

He sipped on a glass of champagne, gagging at the bitterness of the bubbles.

“Doing okay over here?” Steve asked from right behind him.

“When did you get there?” Eddie slurred.

“Ah, so doing really okay,”

His hand was on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s heart was on the floor.

He turned to respond, but the world was spinning and Steve had a twin standing right next to him. When did he get a twin? He was an only child an hour ago.

Steve was touching his hair. Oh god. His fingers were so big, but so delicate, and gentle, and-

“Hey, maybe you should have some water.”

Eddie nodded. Water was good. He liked water, liked being hydrated, thinking straight.

He giggled to himself. “Never thinking straight,” he said quietly.

He heard Steve laugh, but didn’t question it. He wasn’t questioning anything anymore except how he was gonna stand up and get to where the water was.

Maybe he could make it to the shower and just sit on the floor and tilt his head back, open his mouth and-

“You don’t seem like the type to not be able to handle your liquor,” Steve’s arm was wrapped around his waist and they were walking. When had he even gotten up? “At least for as little as you’ve had compared to Nancy. I’m convinced she’s hiding her shots somewhere. She’s had at least seven.”

“Nancy’s prettier than me.”

Steve froze for only a second before continuing their journey to water.

“I don’t think so,” he finally replied.

Eddie shook his head, which was a terrible idea.

“She would make pretty babies with you.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t wanna have pretty babies with her.”

“You don’t wanna make pretty babies with me,” Eddie pouted.

He stopped short, nearly tripping over his own feet. Why did he say that?

Steve was staring a hole into the side of his face.

“Who said I don’t?”

“I mean. You. And I-“ Eddie sighed. “This liquor is something else.”

“So are you, Eds.”

Eddie drank a glass of water while Steve watched. He was tucked into Steve’s bed to sleep it off.

And in the morning, when he woke up with Steve’s leg over his, he thought maybe he was still drunk.

At least until Steve opened his eyes and smiled at him.

“You’re a pretty drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but even prettier right now.”

[steviesbicrisis]

Steve’s best relationship wasn’t even a relationship. He could barely call it a fling, a flirt. They never even went on a date. They never kissed.

Steve still thinks of it as the best whatever-it-is he has ever had with someone.

At the beginning it was mostly infuriating, how quickly Eddie managed to win the kids over, compared to Steve’s months of work as babysitter/nailbat swinger/monster fighter. Steve had to literally bleed multiple times to get an ounce of respect, Eddie only had to run a nerdy club about fictional bleeding and monster-fighting.

Then somehow, and Steve still has trouble pinpointing when and how it happened, everything changed.

Taking the kids back home from hellfire became something he impatiently waited for.

He and Eddie would barely talk for a few minutes and he would find himself replaying the conversation in his head for days. Anything he could say to get a reaction out of Eddie became fundamental, and if he started by picking subjects to piss him off, he ended learning about Eddie’s favorites, because few minutes after hellfire were never enough and Steve needed Eddie to talk as much as possible, until the kids were begging to drop it and go home.

Steve never questioned the change, most likely out of fear. He doesn’t think he ever was clueless, just really scared about what would potentially mean to be staring at another dude’s eyelashes as he goes on a rant about why Ozzy Osbourne is the best artist of his generation. Or blush whenever said dude would call him “baby”, or “sweetheart”.

Steve convinced himself that the thing he and Eddie were having was as good as it was going to get, nothing more.

Then Chrissy Cunningham died, Eddie ran, and Steve realized that the thing will never be enough for him.

He couldn’t not have Eddie. Not watch him as he entertains a bunch of freshmen, as he stomps with his worn out sneakers on top of forniture, as he puts his terrible music on to push away anyone who doesn’t care enough about him to stay.

Steve needed to see Eddie being alive, doing what his heart desires, and he needed to be next to him when he does.

Obviously, this realization came at the worst possible time.

Steve tried to tell him so many times: when they found him at the boathouse, when he was hiding at refer Rick’s house, when they were taking a stroll in the upside down, and even when they were driving a stolen trailer to a gunshop.

But, it seemed, Eddie had come to a realization just as important and he tried his best to avoid Steve at every given chance.

Steve tried to initiate the conversation as Eddie did his best to run away from it. And he ran until Steve had no chances left to tell him how he actually felt.

———

Steve doesn’t know if he’s allowed to say he lost something he never had. To mourn a relationship he never began. A partner that, technically, never became a partner.

After Eddie dies, Steve has no one to be next to but he can’t say he ever did.

Steve just exists waiting. He can’t tell if he’s waiting for the pain to go away or for Eddie to jump out of a bush and yell “ah! I got you sucker!! By the way, I’m in love with you too.”

For obvious reasons, that never happens.

What does happen, is a call.

It’s a normal Tuesday, as normal as you could define it after Hawkins almost collapsed into the upside down. Steve got into a routine, between checking on the ones at the hospital, helping out at the shelter, allowing Robin to check on him to see if he’s still alive.

The call happens while Robin is doing her kitchen check up - aka making sure he has food and that he’s eating it-, so she picks the phone like she did a million times before.

“Harrington residence, this is Robin” she says, cheerfully.

Steve doesn’t pay much attention to it as he’s folding his dad’s old clothes that intends to donate to the shelter, until he hears Robin’s loud gasp.

“What is it? Is it the hospital? Is it Max?” He rushes to the other room where Robin is.

She doesn’t answer but she gives him a look as she passes him the receiver.

Steve goes quiet, a million thoughts going through his head as he takes the phone from Robin.

He’s still unprepared when he hears that unmistakable voice “Baby”.

Steve gasps for breath “Eddie?”

Is that really you? What happened? Are you hurt? Isn’t this impossible? Is what goes on in Steve’s head, but he ends up just asking “are you okay?”

He can hear a chuckle, Eddie’s wicked chuckle, a further confirmation that it is him, “I’m- hanging in there… are you okay?”

Steve finds the question absurd. He isn’t the one who got left in the upside down, the one that got eaten by demonic bats, the one who died before Steve had the chance to tell him how he felt.

He answers truthfully nonetheless, “I’m… I’m not okay.”

“I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

“Please Eddie, come quick.”

“I’ll break the sound barrier for you.”

[moonstruckme]

Steve x black cat! reader pls. I feel this paring is always necessary 😌

Thanks for requesting!

Steve Harrington x black cat!reader ♡ 625 words

You glower at your boyfriend through the dark lens of your sunglasses. “Don’t come near me with that.” 

Steve smiles cajolingly, approaching with the sunscreen nonetheless. “C’mon, babe, you didn’t come out here just to sit under this umbrella all day.” 

“You know I did.” You dart your stare pointedly to where the pale rocks are growing little puddles of lake water underneath his feet. “If you come over here and drip on my book—” 

“Put the book away,” he coaxes. And he’s convincing, all shiny skin and even shinier smile and his pretty hair stuck damply to his forehead and the back of his neck. One tiny strand curls inward over the curve of his cheekbone, and you want terribly to slick it back in with the others but any affectionate gesture right now would feel too close to giving in. “Lemme put some sunscreen on you so you can come swim with the rest of us.” 

“I’m fine here.” 

“It’s really nice out there.” Steve sits down next to you like a mirror image, his hands by your feet and his feet next to your butt. “The lake’s not too cold or anything, you might like it.” 

You suck your teeth. “I’m just trying to enjoy my book, Steve.” 

He angles his head. “What, you don’t want to spend time with me?” 

You angle your head right back, deadpan. “Don’t.” 

“You know, Max really loves you,” he says, squirting a dollop of sunscreen into his hand and starting to smooth it up your calf. You wrinkle your nose at the smell. “She thinks you’re the coolest. Beats me why, but it’d probably make her week if you went out there.” You’re quiet, and he goes on, encouraged. He works the sunscreen over your knee, hands chaste and purposeful as they run the length of your thigh. “Plus, you know, you can read your book anytime, but these warm days are only gonna last so long before it’s freezing and snowy outside again.” 

“I like when it’s freezing and snowy,” you say, setting your book down on top of your bag before one of you gets sunscreen on it.

“I know, but you won’t be getting the gun show when I’m all hidden under ten layers, y’know?” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, and you look away from him, biting down on your smile. You feel more than see your boyfriend’s answering grin, spreading like a blight over his pretty face. He starts on your other leg. 

“And if you come hang out, I’ve got an ice cream sandwich in the cooler with your name on it.” He brushes his thumb over the side of your knee sweetly. “Been saving it for you.” 

You soften. A bit. “You could bring it to me here,” you point out. 

Steve shakes his head, frowning as if he really doesn’t know who’s making these rules and wishes he could change them for you. “Can’t, sorry. Frozen treats are only for those of us out there braving the sun.” 

You cross your arms. “You make it sound so pleasant.” 

He takes one of your arms in his hands, disentangling your defensive stance to continue slathering you in sunscreen. “It’s really not bad,” he says. “Between the ice cream and the cool water, you can pretend it’s winter if you want.” 

“Steve!” You both look out towards the lake, and Robin is waving him over. “Stop flirting with your girlfriend and come back here. We need more people to play chicken!” 

Steve gives you a pleading look. 

“I’m not getting wet,” you tell him firmly. 

He grins and takes your hand, lotion-slicked palm sliding against your own as he pulls you up. “You won’t on my team, don’t worry.”

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Together or Separate

Eddie is pissed.

He knew the risks, he did, he didn't care. The rewards were worth it.

Getting to hold Steve's hand, getting to love him. Who cares if his boyfriend gets flirted with from time to time and he can't do anything to stop it...no biggie...right?

Who cares if their waitress is laughing a little too loudly at a joke that certainly was not a joke. Who returned with their drinks with a button undone on her uniform. Who hasn't given Eddie the time of day and keeps leaning a little too closely to Steve...on their anniversary.

Steve slams on his foot the minute she turns back again.

"Bitch!" Eddie yelps.

"Sorry! What's going on with you? I've been calling your name and trying to get your attention-"

"At least somebody wants my attention."

"Oh is that what this is about? The waitress?" Steve rolls his eyes.

Eddie doesn't dignify that with a response. He huffs and digs a little more into his seat.

"Eds you know we can't do anything in public...you don't think I don't want to hold your hand across the table? To sit in a booth so I can wrap my arm around you?"

Eddie sits up a little more, "Steve I-"

"Alright gentleman!" The waitress interrupts. "Here's the check for the meal." She slides it closer to Steve, her phone number very obviously printed on it.

"You know, I forgot to ask, together or separate?" She flashes Eddie a forced smile.

A dark shadow passes across Eddie's face. They always have to pay separately. Stupid small town. Stupid Reagan. He was going to take advantage of this opportunity though.

"I guess we can pay together since the check is already here." Eddie reaches a hand into his pocket to search for his wallet. He's about to put the bills together when Steve let's out a girlish giggle.

Both Eddie and the waitress are staring at him in shock. Eddie's never heard that noise from him before.

"Steve? Are you-"

"Oh! Isn't he just dreamy?" Steve flutters his lashes at the waitress.

"...him?"

Eddie tries not to take offense to that.

"Steve, what are you doing?"

Steve's smile is evil. His eyes have a terrible sparkle to them. "Taking care of things dear."

The waitress jumps back in shock.

"We never get to go out anymore, he's so busy providing for me. It's so nice of him to pay for dinner isn't it?" Steve blows a kiss at Eddie and the waitress has gone pale.

"It's our anniversary you know? We can't normally advertise our relationship you know? Some people are awfully rude to us. You've been so sweet to us Sharon."

Oh so that's her name.

Eddie couldn't care less.

Steve turns his megawatt smile to him now. Not even giving Sharon another minute of his time.

"Of-of course. People can be so rude to such a lovely...couple. I'll be right back with your change."

"Keep it." Eddie says, standing from the table and walking over to Steve. "Ready to go sweetheart?" He holds out his elbow.

Steve grabs it and giggles as they leave.

"That was some risky move Stevie."

"I don't actually give a fuck." He leans his head on Eddie's shoulder as they walk home. He can feel Steve's smile pressed into his shirt. He finds he can't keep his own smile off his face.

"Happy anniversary."

----

I'm back bitches!

I wrote this on my lunch break:P

Kind of inspired by the date I went on where we paid separately and it ended on a nice note of friendship

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader [1.2K]

Written for @carolmunson’s writing challenge. Feel free to join in, you can find the rules here 🧡 everyone say thank you to Carol for taking the time to create something so cute.

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem, sweetheart.”

Eddie was grumbling, but it was all affection and barely any real scolding in his voice. It’s why you laughed, a dirty cackle that only came out when you were properly tipsy and you continued your harassment as the boy juggled the his keys and your wobbling frame.

You were still snickering, nuzzling at the boy’s neck, your hands slipping up the inside of his leather jacket and t-shirt. You were bolder after a few drinks, tongue tasting like cranberry and something stronger, tequila shots that Robin brought to the table going down like water and Eddie had declared it was home time when you draped yourself in his lap, glassy eyes on his lips as he tried to talk to Steve.

“You normally - oops - like it, oh fuck, when I touch you,” you bashed your shoulder on the doorframe when Eddie finally managed to coax you inside, your hands still vying for his attention.

Eddie was pink in the cheeks, unused to seeing you like this, the relationship still new, your affection still overwhelming at times. You were a cute drunk, tipsy and hiccuping as you let yourself flop onto his sofa, mumbling something into the cushions. He followed, leather jacket throw on the armchair and he bent, untying your shoes and smiling when you hummed, your toes wiggling in your socks and he pretended to bite at them, snickering when you squeaked.

The trailer was lit by just the streetlights, the rest of the park and the town asleep, quiet in the darkness. Eddie seemed to make the navy shadows a little brighter through, everything about his brash and intimidating exterior melting away to a soft gentleness, just for you.

“C’mon, sit up for me, babe,” Eddie coaxed, pulling at your wrists until he was able to manhandled you into the sofa corner. “M’gonna get you some water and then we’re going to bed, alright?”

“Yessir,” you slurred but the salacious intent was there, all flirt as you tried to wink but one eye simply wouldn’t cooperate.

“You’re jokes, tonight, kid,” Eddie snorted and busied himself in the kitchen, heart overflowing with affection for you, a kind of fondness that clung to the spaces between his ribs and it was times like these he wondered how on earth the town pariah managed to bag a girl like you.

“Here,” he murmured as he walked back over. “We ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?” Eddie handed you a mug in the shape of some sort of creature.

If you’d been more sober, you would’ve thought it was some sort of demonic Bigfoot, but you were too busy eying at spikes that protruded from the rim of the mug. You glanced back at Eddie warily, accepting his offer with a grimace.

“Watch for the horns,” he whispered when your tooth clinked against one. You groaned, flipping him off as you chugged most of the water, eyes slipping shut and Eddie’s hand found the back of your head before you tipped yourself backwards too much. “Jesus, sweetheart, don’t drown yourself.”

“Sounds like an easier way to go than how m’gonna feel in the morning,” you groaned, already feeling sorry for yourself. The third shot of tequila was a horrible, terrible idea. You vaguely remembered Eddie wincing at you from across the table as you knocked it back. You held the evil Bigfoot mug to your chest and waved him away, almost as dramatic as Eddie himself. “Jus’ leave me here to rot.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” the boy pouted, hiding his grin behind pursed lips. He was kneeling in front of you again, warm wide hands running the lengths of your thighs and the guitar string callouses on his fingers scratched against your skin just right. “Don’t rot here. S’an awful place to deteriorate. You can rot in bed w’me.”

“Can’t,” you told him mournfully, your empty mug slipping onto the cushions as you let yourself lean forward, face finding Eddie’s neck. He smelled like smoke and spice and the cologne you’d got him for Valentine’s Day. “I’ll be a pile of sludge. Sludge and tequila. So disgusting.”

Eddie snorted, throughly entertained at someone else being dramatic for once. His hands made their way from your legs to your back, slipping nimble fingers inside your T-shirt so he could skate them along your spine. If he hadn’t know any better, he would’ve sworn you purred.

“Hey now, that’s not even close to being true,” he tsked, nudging your head with his until you whined and pulled back, facing him with a pout. He pushed his nose against your own. “My girlfriend is the prettiest pile of sludge.”

It was still new enough that you both got a kick out of him calling you his girlfriend, your body buzzing with a giddy kind of excitement that made your nose crinkle when you beamed at him.

Your forehead touched his, Eddie’s unruly curls brushing your cheeks and his fingers dipped lower, pressing into the dimples on your back and he held you there, fully encouraging whatever it was you were about to do.

Your lips brushed his, a barely there kiss that probably tasted like tequila and cherry liqueur but you were too drunk to care and Eddie really didn’t mind at all.

“You think I’m the prettiest?” You whispered.

“Damn right,” Eddie nodded, his voice laced with stern fondness and he grinned when you smiled even wider. “All the other piles of sludge don’t know what to do with themselves when you’re around.”

It made you laugh, a hiccuping thing that had Eddie kissing at your cheek, the corner of your mouth and the tip of your nose. It was overwhelming, to be doted on like this - your cheeks warm and the alcohol making you softer and sleepier, Eddie’s big hands the only thing keeping you upright.

“You’re so funny,” you mumbled through a yawn, falling forward again to bury yourself into him.

“The funniest,” Eddie agreed mildly, because he was already coaxing you into standing up with him, your socked feet standing on his boots as you swayed. “C’mon, bedtime.”

“You forgot bad day Bigfoot,” you mumbled, pointing back at your empty mug. “He needs to come too.” You lifted the throw pillow that Wayne had once tried to cross-stitch a dirty joke onto, holding it close to your side like some kind of teddy.

One look at your frown told Eddie you weren’t joking, so with raised brows, he grabbed the offending cup and held him in front of you. “He needs to come to bed with us? And the dick pillow?”

An array of different sizes and colours of badly stitched penises glared back at him from under your arm and Eddie raised his brows at you, unsure.

You nodded, already shuffling off into the direction of his bedroom where he knew you’d ransack his drawers for just the right shirt to sleep in. “S’only polite,” you told him.

You couldn’t see Eddie’s responding grin but he filled the mug back up with water before trailing after you. “Alright, but if he starts gettin’ handsy, he’s out.” He caught up with you just as you flopped into his unmade bed, burying your face into the sheets with a hum. “You’re my pile of sludge, remember?”

From beneath Wayne’s pillow, your hand shot out, a thumbs up offered as a sign of agreement and Eddie scoffed as he bit at the digit playfully.

“Fuck yeah, m’your pile of sludge,” was his answer.

[sidekick-hero]

Cheesy

steddie | 1.2k | rated: teen | tags: modern AU, Eddie works at Surfer Boy Pizza, inappropriate humor, cheesy lines and bad puns, fluff and humor | AO3

"Steeeeeeve! Steven! I’m starving! You have to save me from the cruel clutches of death by buying us a pizza. But you must hurry—I don’t have much time left."

"Oh no, what would I ever do without you?" Steve deadpans, barely suppressing a grin.

Robin dramatically flings herself onto him, knocking the wind out of him with a loud 'oumph.'

She jabs a finger into his ribs—surprisingly painful. "Crash and burn, Dingus. Crash. And. Burn."

Steve swats her poking fingers away, scowling at his platonic soulmate. "At least I’d have fewer bruises and a better bank account. This is the third time this week I’m buying you pizza, Buckley. How is that fair?"

He tries to sound stern, but as Robin squirms in his lap, looking up at him with big, pleading blue eyes, his resolve crumbles to dust.

"Because I’ve been your best friend since we both lost all dignity in those sailor outfits. It’s us against the world, oh platonic love of my life. Or... don’t you love me anymore?"

There it is—the killing blow. Game, set, match.

God, he’s so fucking easy, isn’t he?

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gimme my phone, jeez. You’re eating me out of house and home, I hope you know that."

Steve gets a sharp elbow in the stomach as Robin scrambles to grab his phone from the table.

"Ouch! God, why are your elbows so pointy?"

"They’re my secret weapon against the patriarchy," Robin says distractedly, shoving the phone in his face. "Pizza. Please. Hungry."

Robin’s monosyllables mean the situation is dire. Steve quickly dials their favorite pizza place. “Veggie?” he mouths, earning a thumbs-up from Robin.

“Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Eddie speaking. What’s your poison of choice?”

Huh. The deep, smooth voice on the other end of the line is new, throwing Steve off momentarily.

“Uhhhm… You’re not Argyle,” he blurts out, immediately wanting to slap himself. How pathetic does he sound right now?

An amused chuckle echoes through the tiny speaker.

“Keen observation skills, Sherlock. Argyle’s off today, so you’ve got the pleasure of my company. How can I make your day better, sweetheart?”

The flirty tone throws Steve further, but he can’t deny he’s enjoying it. So, he decides to match Eddie’s energy.

“I could think of a few things, but I’m not sure they’re on the menu,” Steve flirts back, relishing the chance to flex his long-dormant charm.

“Is that so?” Eddie’s smile is practically audible. “Who says they aren’t? Or that I wouldn’t make an exception if you ask real nice?”

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Robin’s elbow digs into his side, knocking the breath out of him. She’s glaring at him, mouthing, ‘What the fuck?’

The sound must have been loud enough for Eddie to hear because he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, was that… I mean, sorry if that was too forward, man. Please don’t tell my manager, I just got the job and—”

“No! No, no, no, don’t worry. My best friend’s just starving and shared her pain with me… via elbow to the ribs. It wasn’t too forward, I promise.”

A relieved sigh reaches his ear. “Okay, good. So, what kind of pizza can I get you two before your best friend starves to death? I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.”

A heavy weight settles in Steve’s stomach. He didn’t realize how much he missed being flirted with, even casually. Nancy was right—their relationship had been over long before they ended it. It’s been ages since he felt this kind of excitement.

“Yeah, no, we don’t want that,” Steve agrees, smiling despite himself. “One veggie, and one with meatballs—yes, I know how that sounds.”

Eddie’s flirtatious tone returns. “Wouldn’t dream of going for such an easy opening, big boy. I’m easy, not cheesy.”

“Oh. My. God.” Steve laughs. “That was terrible.”

“But you liked it.”

Steve grins. Yeah, he did. He’s a sucker for bad puns and dad jokes. But Eddie didn’t need to know that. “Pleading the fifth.”

Eddie hums, asking for his name and address before promising the pizza will be there in 20 minutes.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice softer than it should be.

“Anytime, Stevie. Enjoy your pizza!”

“Bye. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Deafening silence. Then, in a surprisingly calm voice, Eddie says, “I hope you’re not expecting a discount on the pizza now that we’ve confessed our undying love to each other. Because I’d do anything for love, but I won’t do that.”

And then he hangs up, leaving Steve to spiral in peace.

Love you.

Love you, too.

Fuck. Oh my God. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. What was he thinking? Nothing, apparently. It’s just… with Nancy on his mind, his brain switched to autopilot, saying the words he ended every call with her. Three years of habit.

“Steve? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The worried look on Robin’s face lasts just long enough for Steve to explain what happened before she breaks into ringing laughter.

“Oh my God,” she gasps, barely able to catch her breath. “That’s… hahaha… I can’t… What is your life, Dingus?”

By then, Steve’s laughing too, Robin’s reaction helping him see the humor instead of drowning in embarrassment.

As promised, there’s a ring at the door about 20 minutes later, announcing the arrival of their pizza. The sound sends butterflies fluttering in his stomach, even though he knows the delivery guy won’t be Eddie.

Knowing that and seeing it for himself are two different things, though. He can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment when he opens the door to find a blonde, pimply teenager staring at him doubtfully.

“So, you’re the guy trying to lure Eddie into your sex dungeon?”

Steve sputters, completely thrown. “Uh… what?”

“Why else would you tell a total stranger—who’s also working for you, by the way, hence creating an imbalance of power—that you love him? Freak.”

The teenager shoves the pizza boxes into Steve’s hands, snatches the bills from his other hand, and walks away without another word.

Steve stands there, staring into the void, deeply regretting all his life choices. He’s snapped out of it only when Robin’s voice pierces through his thoughts, yelling for her pizza.

“Coming!” he shouts back, closing the door with his foot and carrying the boxes over to where Robin’s already making grabby hands.

He hands hers over before settling down next to her with his own.

“What took you so long?” she asks, mouth full of pizza.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he begins but stops when he notices the note stuck to the top of his pizza box.

Hey Stevie, I lied, because this is cheesy, but you are one supreme slice, and I’d love to give you meatballs for as long as you’d like. Yours truly, The guy you confessed your undying love to (aka Eddie) P.S. Please don’t mind Sam. He’s just jealous because no customer ever confesses their love to him.

Beneath the note, Steve finds a phone number.

Without thinking, he grabs his phone and quickly types out a message before finally digging into his pizza, suddenly starving.

‘Hey Eddie, if you put a sausage on top of the meatballs, we have a deal. xxx the guy you confessed your undying love to right back.’

Inspired by this ancient post I can no longer find:

[lexirosewrites]

hello again, it's the eddie's leather jacket candle anon! i wanted to submit something for slick sunday last week but couldn't think of anything, and then at 1am monday this popped into my head while i was trying to sleep lol. based on the idea that you smell like the people you're around a lot or were recently near

thinking about b!steve, overcompensating for being a beta by trying to be perfect instead. he tries to get good grades, does his best at sports, gets in with the popular crowd, dutifully obeys his father's stubborn insistence on taking the stupid vitamins for his stupid deficiency everyday... only for canon events to happen, and effort is worthless without promising results in the eyes of his alpha parents.

the summer of ’86, steve gets in a fight to end all fights with his parents when they find out about his “dalliances with” (crush on) a!eddie, and b!robin and her parents offer their basement for as long as steve needs it. robin shares a bathroom with steve and notices the pill bottle she keeps in there is emptying faster than normal. when she asks if he’s been taking some of her pills, he shrugs and apologizes for using her vitamins without asking, but they were the same kind he’s been taking since puberty hit and he’ll buy more if she’ll tell him which drugstore carries it since he can’t seem to find it on his own.

except they’re puberty blockers. omega puberty blockers. robin takes them on purpose because having a period is enough trouble without the heats, but steve has everything he’s ever known about himself and his life as a harrington turned on its head. a lot of the things he’d been scolded for (things that in hindsight are omega traits, like the “stomachaches” he gets every 3 months because of his “vitamin deficiency”) suddenly make a lot of sense. they call joyce, who lives in hawkins again and has dealt with a son going through omega puberty, and ask for her advice. through their combined research, steve concludes the best course of action is to taper his dose until he’s completely weaned off the blocker, that way the change doesn’t happen all at once.

cut to a month later. at hellfire, which now takes place in the basement of wayne’s new government hush-money house, eddie notes that dustin smells weird different, to which dustin replies he’s using a new deodorant and he even showered right before he got here today and why the fuck are alpha noses so frickin’ sensitive. eddie says whatever, as long as it keeps the BO out of his nostrils.

eddie smells dustin’s oddly pleasant strong new deodorant when he goes to make a return at family video. he asks robin if she started using the same deodorant as dustin and she whacks him in the head with the tape because no, dingus, dustin was here earlier borrowing neverending story again, dingus. when eddie asks why steve isn’t there for him to flirt with, robin says he had to go home sick. eddie eagerly offers to bring steve cold medicine or food or go to keep him company, but robin shuts that down harsher than necessary. eddie can take a hint, steve just needs the day off. as he leaves, the familiar beamer in the parking lot doesn’t strike him as odd.

jonathan doesn’t usually ask eddie for weed, especially since argyle has way better shit, but eddie stops by the byers-hopper residence anyway for a covert drop. he runs into joyce, who apparently shares the same taste in deodorant as dustin, and asks why everyone’s getting the same new deodorant, only for her to tell him that the only thing that’s changed with her is nursing steve back to health from his terrible cold. they seem to reach a realization at the same time, and eddie decides he needs to ask steve where the hell he’s getting this deodorant and why it smells better from him than when dustin wears it. (joyce, infinitely wiser in her years, reaches the correct conclusion.)

eddie manages to sneak via window into the basement where steve is staying, bringing a care package: cold medicine, a hot thermos of wayne’s soup, and a few cassettes of Actually Good music. the plan is to hang out for a few hours, maybe set the mood a little, and if eddie can’t actually get the words out he can play the cassette that contains a recited confession on how much eddie likes steve and his stupid, sexy everything and could steve please, please, please think about giving eddie a chance. he only gets halfway through the window, then falls in the rest of the way at the sight and smell and sound of steve in a full-blown heat, wearing eddie’s battle vest and fingering his dripping cunt while mewling eddie’s name. eddie can only appreciate the situation for 2 seconds tops before the panic and instincts kick in. he bursts into the house’s ground floor, tosses the care package to a bewildered robin, and halfway out the door yells that his rut just triggered and he needs to leave.

after a few very turbulent days, eddie’s planning a new strategy for How to Woo Steve Harrington when steve himself barges into eddie’s room and kisses him senseless. they talk about steve being an omega, their mutual attraction, and what that all means in the long run, which leads to flirting and ends with steve deepthroating eddie and eddie eating out steve’s pussy.

a year later, eddie tenderly kisses the mating bite on steve’s neck as they cradle their newborn child.

Steve’s omega status being hidden/suppressed by his parents for years is so genuinely awful… and such great angst. he believed them so completely that his entire identity is altered and he has to learn how to function as an omega, but Eddie will take care of him and treat him right!!! this is adorable😭💕