#steddiebingo

[lady-lostmind]

Steddie Bingo Prompt Masterlist

Written for @steddiebingo I'll update this list as I fill more prompts!

"Oh. Oh." : Oh, Fuck

Starting Over: Starting Over

Sweat: The Boyfriend and The Platonic Soulmate

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!

[steddiebingo]

Sign ups close January 31st!!

You DO NOT have to be a part of the event already to sign up!

This is an optional mini event for everyone, including our round one participants!

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY NERDS!

It's time to open up the Kissing Booth!!

SIGN UPS NOW OPEN FOR KISSING BOOTH MINI EVENT

This is a Valentine's Day themed mini event with seven prompts. To complete this mini event, you must complete all of the prompt fills. 

Sign Ups: Jan 12, 2025 - Jan 31, 2025 Cards Released: Feb 1, 2025 Posting: Feb 1, 2025 - Feb 22, 2025 Cards Due: Feb 23, 2025 - Feb 26, 2025

Rules:

Authors must write at least 500 words per entry.

Artists are welcome to participate with one piece per prompt. 

No prompts can be combined on this card.

You can use a single entry for both a holiday prompt and your main bingo card.

–

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[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo.

Slip Slidin' Away

12 Days of Christmas Prompt: Coat | Word Count: 1355 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Modern Day AU, Ice Storm, Neighbors Meet Cute, FYP Getting *Far* Too Local

Eddie reaches for his phone. It's buzzing against his thigh again. He's getting annoyed. His doorbell camera has been going apeshit for the last ten minutes, but every time he checks, nobody's out there. 

Another notification, another annoyance, and this time he actually pulls up the recorded clip instead of just the live feed to see what kind of insect has survived the freeze just to terrorize him. 

It's not a bug, though.

It's worse. It's a man, on a pair of ice skates, gliding up and down their frozen street. 

What in the actual fuck? Is he crazy? This guy isn't even wearing a coat, but he glides into, and then out of view, on honest to god skates. In the street. Who the fuck is this dude?

Eddie watches the rest of that clip, then a couple more, before he puts his phone out of his reach, not picking it up again until it actually rings.

"It's too cold for band practice," Gareth says by way of hello, and well, no shit. None of them should be out in this weather. Especially not Eddie, he's a terrible driver under regular circumstances. On ice? Recipe for disaster, for sure.

"What gave it away, the solid sheet of ice or the freezing temperatures?"

"Asshole," Gareth laughs. "I'm just saying. Don't come slip slidin' away over here. You'll die."

"Speaking of slip slidin', Simon, there's a dude skating in the street outside the house," Eddie tells him. "He keeps setting off my doorbell cam."

"Like, hockey skating or figure skating?" Gareth asks, and fuck if Eddie knows? 

"I don't know. He's got blades strapped to his feet and a death wish." 

"Sounds familiar," Gareth says.

Eddie ignores him. He's crazy and reckless, but he's not skate in the street crazy. There's a difference, surely.

"He's not even wearing a coat. I'd at least wear a coat to my death."

"Because you're a delicate flower with no circulation."

Eddie laughs. He's not delicate, but he is cold-blooded to his core. 

"How long is this ice storm supposed to last?" Eddie asks. He hates this kind of bitter cold.

"Three days, give or take."

Three days. He can handle three days without interacting with another human being.

Later, when he's laying in bed doom scrolling, he gets a text from Gareth:

Eddie opens the link, and it's definitely his street, and is the video of the skating guy. The other POV? He thinks that's the right term, but he wouldn't bet the farm on it. Either way, the account's name is Robin, and with a quick glance through her profile, he suspects she's the wife of Mr. Skates. 

These must be his neighbors. He's done a pretty damn good job at avoiding meeting anyone, but here they are, on his phone. Small world.

She's razzing the shit out of him in the clip, and Eddie thinks she's not wrong. Dude's lucky he didn't catch a rock taller than the sheet of ice with his skate and eat shit. 

He's gorgeous. It loops again, and again.

Eddie watches him lace up his skates, over and over, and hit the icy street, laughing the whole time. 

Why is this video an hour long? 

He lets it cycle through one more time, gives it a like and a favorite, and Eddie's not much for social media, or playing nice with neighbors, but he leaves a comment before overthinking it. 

It's not until the next night, back in bed, his phone in his hand that he realizes there's a metric shit-ton of notifications waiting for him. Mainly likes on his comment and then a couple responses. This video must have blown up today. Which makes sense, if it was pushed into Gareth's feed for him to even see to send to Eddie, lots of other people must have gotten it, too.

His neighbors have responded, but were mainly just bantering with each other:

Well, now Eddie's embarrassed. Nice moves? He didn't realize this was gonna go public. Especially since this guy is good looking. Way to make a fool of yourself in front of the hot, new neighbor. Jesus H. Christ. 

He really needs to think things through before he says — or types — them. 

Oh well. He'll avoid them. That hasn't been hard to do so far, last night's assault on his camera, notwithstanding.

The next morning, Eddie's carefully tiptoeing outside to retrieve his mail, trying not to bust his ass on the ice that just will not melt, three days his fucking ass, when a yellow blur is zooming towards him. It comes to an abrupt stop, ice dust flying, right on the iced over pavement right in front of Eddie's mailbox. It's kinda impressive.

"You're Ed, right?" he asks.

"Eddie, yeah. Steve?" Eddie questions, and so much for not interacting. But the guy nods, giving him a bright smile. They shake hands, and now Eddie's met his neighbors. Anti-social streak over.

"That's me, I can't believe you saw our video from next door!" 

Eddie doesn't think he needs to go into a bunch of details on how it was really Gareth whose algorithm got fed it, so he just nods along, "Small world, indeed." 

"Robin is dying that it went kinda viral." 

"Your wife?" Eddie asks, and Steve nearly falls off his skates laughing. 

"No. No way. Best friend. Platonic with a capital P. Hetero life mates, except for the hetero part." 

Eddie's ears definitely perk up at that. 

"Well, I feel lucky to be on the non-hetero side of the street, then." 

Steve grins, "Oh, you definitely lucked out. Mr. Hollins across the street is straight enough for the whole neighborhood." 

Eddie doesn't know who that is, but laughs anyway.

Then has an idea: 

"So, I have an important question," Eddie says, and Steve just looks at him, curious and expectant. 

"Are those hockey skates or figure skates?" 

Steve holds onto Eddie's mailbox and laughs, head tossed back, hair flying. It's perfect. He's perfect.

"Hockey, but that doesn't mean I don't have moves. I have moves for days. Don't you worry." 

"Moves, you say? Well, let's see 'em, big boy."

Steve smiles, and pushes off into the street. Eddie ribbed him for no coat last night, and now here Eddie is, outside, no coat, freezing his ass off as he's demanding his cute neighbor skate for him. 

He takes out his phone, and starts recording. Even he knows this will be a popular update to their little moment. 

Steve skates backwards, crossing his legs over each other. 

"Can you jump?" Eddie yells. 

"It's not advised!" Steve yells back, "But, since when do I ever listen to advise! Waltz!" 

He does a little jump, and lands on one foot skating backwards. Eddie hoots and hollers, and Steve takes a bow. 

And that's it. He skates over and Eddie can't stop staring at him. 

"You want to come in for coffee? Warm up?" Eddie offers, unwilling to let him just leave. 

"Hell yeah, sure," Steve agrees, and Eddie watches him skate up the driveway, and then stop on the porch to take off his skates. He holds onto Eddie's shoulder to balance himself, and Eddie can feel his warm hand, fingers gripping his skin, through his shirt.

He wants those hands in other places.

Oh, he's in trouble. Big, big trouble.

Steve has on big, thick socks and looks so cozy in his sweater as he follows Eddie in the house. 

"It's nice to have a good neighbor again. The last lady," Steve says, then gives two big thumbs down, blowing a raspberry.

Eddie laughs. He's never been considered the good neighbor before. Not with his shitty van, long hair and too loud music. 

He starts a pot of coffee, and looks in the fridge. He has a few things, and he wants Steve to stay as long as possible. Eddie has some wooing to do.

"You hungry?" 

"I could eat," Steve admits. "I can always eat. Hollow leg, all the sports will do that to you."

And Eddie starts fixing this hot guy, who's certainly way out of his league, no matter which sport, breakfast.

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun! 🧥

Notes: I saw a video of someone ice skating on the street, and their neighbor saw it and commented like, "Hey! That's my car in the background!"

Slip Slidin' Away is a Paul Simon song.

Hetero life mates is a Jay & Silent Bob reference.

[katyawriteswhump]

something new 💝 (steddie microfic, steddie bingo)

For @steddiemicrofic January prompt, ‘new’ and @steddiebingo fill, ‘soulmates.’

Rating: M; WC: 517; CW: Omegaverse; Tags: Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, fluff, mild angst and h/c, Steve and Chrissy are besties, strangers to lovers, steddie soulmates. Summary: The Omega darling of the entire High School, Steve Harrington figured he was totally in control… until Eddie Munson happened.

💝💝💝💝💝

Steve sat in the corridor, leaning against the music-room wall. On the other side, a voice soared above a thrash-metal beat and melted his inner Omega into a puddle of need.

“Steve? You’re late for cheerleading practice… Oh!” Chrissy crouched down, stroked his clammy brow. “Stevie, you’re burning up.”

“I-it’s that voice.”

This was new, frightening. Steve daily flirted his ass off without breaking sweat—the Omega Princess of Hawkins High. This terrifyingly wonderful sound, however, hit some catastrophic resonance.

Slick gushed into his cheerleader hotpants. “Chrissy, what’s happening?”

“I think,” said the other Omega, “Eddie is happening.”

“Munson?”

The wild noisy music checked out, scaring Steve shitless. Eddie was a ‘dangerous’ bad-boy Alpha. They’d never even spoken.

“Sssssh, breathe,” said Chrissy. “C’mon, let’s clean you up.”

They skipped practice, while Steve calmed. Chrissy reassured him she’d known Eddie for years: “He looks scary, but he’s really nice.”

Later, in the canteen, Steve tentatively approached Eddie, who glanced his way, eyes narrowing. His Alpha musk—smoky-sweet with undertones of freshly-fired iron—stabbed Steve like a smoldering dagger.

Steve woke up at home, confused and mildly slick, a wisp of Eddie’s scent still upon him.

Horror struck.

He’d fainted! Chrissy, who sat by his bed, told him Eddie had been worried, and they’d brought him home together. Ugh, he was still so ashamed.

Steve couldn’t face college the next day. By lunchtime, multiple deliveries of chocolates and flowers had arrived from various Alphas.

Nothing new. None of them smelled of Eddie. He’d blown it.

Then an envelope landed on the doormat, containing a mixtape lightly doused in... Eddie’s scent.

Steve slid it into his Walkman and lay down, pulse skittering.

Hardcore-metal thrilled through him, interjected with soft-rock he already loved, like Bon Jovi.

Finally, Eddie sang.

Steve writhed, stroking himself, weeping with need. Eddie husked in his ears: “Never even spoken, never fucking touched. You tore inside me, twisting viscera, totally fucked me up…”

In the aftermath, Steve trembled, stunned.

The phone rang.

His parents were away, so Eddie came straight over. Chrissy, too, for support. This time, Steve perched on the bed, while Eddie approached cautiously. He kneeled to take Steve’s hand, smiling tentatively.

“This is new for me,” he mumbled, blushing and almost bashful. He kissed Steve’s fingers, setting Steve reeling giddily, tingling head-to-toe: “Never courted an Omega, like, old-school, before.”

Steve nearly yelled: This is the first time I’ve genuinely wanted to be courted. Instead, he said, “I love your voice.”

Please jump my bones already?

Eddie blushed harder and beamed wolfishly. Steve clasped his wrist and tugged him onto the bed, and animal magnetism did the rest. Eddie took Steve in his arms. Excruciatingly sweetly, Eddie’s lips brushed Steve’s, tongue probing gently. Steve tipped his throat back with a relieved sigh, turning willingly pliant. Eddie licked and nuzzled his scent-gland, setting him purring.

Chrissy giggled. “Gonna call Rob to pick me up.”

A month later, they were going steady. Eddie finally shared the title of the song he wrote that first day, when the longing in Steve’s Omega scent hijacked him and transformed his life forever:

‘Soulmates.’

💝💝💝💝💝

zero pressure tag: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

You get my motor running

Written for the day 27 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles, and for round one of the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Traffic & Handjobs

Rated: E

Tags: Established Relationship; Post-Vecna; Some vague references to PTSD; Handjobs; Semi-public sex

“Paper towels,” Steve barks, throwing himself into the passenger seat and slamming the door. A little avalanche descends off the van's roof. Eddie flinches back to attention. 

“That's a curse word I haven't heard before.”

Steve scowls, brushing snow from his hair. It leaves the carefully styled strands ruffled and sticking up at odd angles, giving him a slightly manic look. 

“Hilarious. There is a fucking truck lying in a ditch, like half a mile from here, paper towels all over the place. Police are waving the cars past, but there’s hundreds in front of us. It’ll be hours before we get out of here.” 

“Huh,” Eddie says.

“Yeah,” Steve huffs, crossing his arms. “Huh.”

They sit in silence for a while. 

“We should’ve gone yesterday,” Steve mutters. His leg starts twitching. “Everyone and their mother wants out of the city for the holidays, we should’ve known traffic would be fucking crazy. We’ll never make it to Hawkins on time at this rate. The others will-” 

“They’ll survive, Stevie,” Eddie says, catching his hand and running his fingers over his knuckles. They’re raw from the frosty air, dry skin coming off where Steve picked at it. A habit he's developed in the aftermath of everything, now that there's nothing left to punch, nothing left to go at with nail bats and axes and molotovs. “It's only Christmas dinner.” 

Steve’s fingers flex and Eddie knows he wants to argue, but then he sighs. 

“Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, I'm just-” 

“Nervous,” Eddie says, tangling their fingers together. “I know, big boy.” 

It hasn't been easy for either of them, leaving Hawkins, but Eddie knows that it's been even harder for Steve. Steve, who's been involved in the Upside Down shit from the get-go, who's spent the better part of his teenage years fighting monsters - the fanged and clawed kind as well as the human-shaped ones. Who still wakes up screaming sometimes, throwing punches at the pillows, trying to protect his loved ones from threats that are long gone. 

“We'll be here for a while, honey,” Eddie says. “Nothing to be done about it. Just relax.” 

“I wish I could,” Steve groans, head thudding against the backrest, and fondness blooms in Eddie’s chest.

“Well,” he mutters, shifting his gaze back to the road, at the same time that his hand lets go of Steve’s fingers and travels to his thigh. “I think I can help you with that.” 

Steve gasps. Eddie stays focused on the road. He doesn’t need to turn his head to know there’s a blush slowly spreading over that pretty face.

“What are you doing?” Steve’s voice is a low, frantic hiss, but he makes no attempt to swat Eddie off. Eddie grins, shifting his hand just a little bit further upwards, and Steve bucks in his seat. “Are you insane? What if anyone sees?” 

“Well,” Eddie drawls, letting his eyes roam over the surrounding vehicles. Most of the drivers are staring off into space, some drumming their fingers to the sounds of their radios, some arguing with their passengers. Nobody is paying them any attention. His palm finds the bulge in Steve’s pants and cups it in a firm grip. “Guess we’ll just need to be subtle about it, huh?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see how Steve’s face twitches as he silently weighs his options. 

“I mean, we could always wait and pull into a side road later,” Eddie shrugs. “But you said it yourself. It’ll be hours...” 

For a few seconds, the only sound is that of tires crunching on snow.

“You’re such an asshole,” Steve snaps, shimmying in his seat so that he can lift his hips and unzip his pants. “C’mon then, make it quick.” 

“Well, aren’t you generous?” Eddie coos, and reaches over. 

As far as handjobs go, it’s one of the odder ones he’s given. 

He needs to keep one hand on the steering wheel and his feet on the pedals, so the angle is awkward. He also can’t watch Steve’s face as he usually does, but they’ve been together long enough for his imagination to fill in the gaps. Steve makes a needy little noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, rutting up into Eddie’s hand, and he can just imagine the way he flushes, the way he bites down on that pink bottom lip to keep louder sounds from spilling out. For all his initial reluctance, it takes him mere seconds to get hard, and soon his breathy whines are joined by the wet sound of his precome-slickened cock fucking in and out of Eddie’s palm.

Steve never believes him when he says it, but Eddie can feel his orgasm coming before he himself does. He’s learned to read the little telltale signs - the stutter of his hips, the minute hitch of his breath, the way his cock starts twitching in anticipation. Today is no exception. 

“Shit, I’m gonna-” Steve moans, trying to jerk away, to tuck himself back in, but Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and tightens his grip, keeping him in place. Eyes trained at the snowflakes falling beyond the windshield, he lets Steve shake apart in his hold, head thrown back into a silent scream, spilling hot and wet all over Eddie’s hand and his pants and the seat. By the time his breathing evens out, the cars in front of them have started moving again. 

“Well?” Eddie asks, wiping his hand on his pants. “Relaxed now?” 

Steve huffs, a breathy and incredulous thing, but his features have gone soft and content.

“Relaxed and fucking filthy. How are you gonna explain the stains to the others, genius?” 

“Well,” Eddie winks. “Maybe someone up there can lend us a paper towel.” 

Steve almost makes him walk the rest of the way, but he thinks it’s well worth it.

More holiday drabbles

More Steddie Bingo

[fkinkindagauche]

The Indiana Lakers

This is a prompt fill for @steddiebingo prompts, one from my main card for Round One (prompt: trinket) and one from my Twelve Days of Christmas Mini-Event card (prompt: make-up sex). Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild server for help coming up with a bad gift!

Rating: Explicit | WC: 2,341 | CW: None | Tags: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, gift-giving

Read on AO3

"Are you serious right now?" Steve's voice came out high-pitched and strained. He looked down at the yellow and purple jersey, emblazoned across the back with "BRYANT" and the number 8.

"I was pretty proud of myself for remembering," Eddie beamed, completely misinterpreting Steve's tone of voice.

Steve was speechless for a few moments, glaring down at the jersey. "Eddie," he huffed.

Eddie's face fell. He seemed to finally be catching on to the fact that Steve wasn't happy with him. "This is the guy you like, right? He scores a lot of points really fast?"

Steve sighed, running a hand over his face. "I like the Pacers, Eddie. Reggie Miller. This jersey is for the Lakers. You know, the team that beat my team in the NBA finals in June."

"Shit," Eddie muttered. "Why do they have almost the same exact team name?"

Steve took a deep breath, trying to quell his knee-jerk reaction to scream in frustration.

He'd started Christmas morning in a bad mood, and this certainly wasn't helping. He was one of the on call scrub nurses over the holidays again and had been called in late the night before for an emergency appendectomy. He'd barely gotten any sleep. Plus, they were going to Steve's parents' for Christmas dinner in a few hours. That would have been enough to put him in a bad mood even if he had slept. He was dreading the hours filled with thinly veiled criticisms of his career choice and repeated complaints about the lack of grandchildren.

And now this. He knew he couldn't expect Eddie to care as much about sports as he did, but this was a pretty egregious error. Buying Steve a jersey not just for the wrong team, but for the team that had stolen the NBA championship from Steve's team. As Steve cataloged the morning's mental wounds, he lost control of his temper.

"Do you ever actually listen when I talk?" he snapped. "We've been together for ten years now! Basketball is very important to me! How can you still not know my team?"

Hurt flashed across Eddie's face. He leaned away from Steve. "I- I'm sorry, Stevie. You know I mix up letters and stuff sometimes."

"This isn't just mixing up letters!" Steve persisted, unable to pull himself back now that he'd gotten riled up. "There's colors and logos and player names. Also, you could have just asked an employee wherever you got it which team was from Indiana!"

Eddie frowned. "Steve. Maybe we should talk about this after you've gotten some sleep."

"Oh, fuck you, Eddie," Steve yelled. He hated it when Eddie got all reasonable like this when they argued, treating him like he was some kind of child throwing a tantrum. He balled up the jersey and threw it in Eddie's face. Then he stood up and walked to their bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Steve sank to the floor and leaned back against the door, thunking his head against the wood. He was crying, ugly tears with all sorts of snot. He had a tendency to cry at the slightest inconvenience when he was exhausted. The tears usually upset him more, and he'd spent most of his life trying to shut them off as soon as they started. But this time he let them come, trying to ride the waves of his emotions like he'd talked about with his therapist.

After a few minutes, he calmed down. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, scanning down his body and cataloging all the little sensations to ground himself.

As he settled down, he felt embarrassed. It would be nice if Eddie paid a little more attention to Steve's sports-related interests, but the intensity of Steve's reaction to the present hadn't been great.

Just as he was about to get up and go apologize, he heard a soft knock on the door.

"Stevie?" Eddie called through the door. "Can I come in, baby?"

Steve opened the door. Eddie's face was pinched with worry. Steve started to sob again.

"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie crooned, pulling Steve into his arms and guiding them over to sit on the bed. "I'm so sorry."

Steve gasped through his tears. "N-no! I'm sorry, Eddie. I- I was so mean. I'm h-horrible!" Steve was hiccuping now. He buried his face in Eddie's long hair.

Eddie stroked up and down Steve's back, gently shushing him as Steve continued to mutter nonsense into his hair through hiccups. Eventually, Steve quieted down.

"Thanks for apologizing for snapping at me," Eddie said. "But I am really sorry I fucked up with the jersey, Steve. You're right, I should try to listen to you more when you're really excited about sports things. You always listen when I talk about music."

Steve sat back, wiping the tears and snot off of his face. He gave Eddie a watery smile. "Thanks, Eddie," Steve whispered.

Steve noticed that Eddie was holding something in the hand that hadn't been rubbing his back. "What's that?" he asked, cocking his head.

Eddie followed Steve's eyes. He seemed surprised to realize he still had something in his hand. "Oh. This is your other present." He handed Steve a wrapped flat box.

Steve took the box from him. It was heavier than it looked. He unwrapped it and opened the box to reveal an antique gold pocket watch. It was beautiful, and still told time accurately.

"This is lovely, Eddie," Steve gushed. He flipped it over. On the back was inscribed "Edward Munson, 1880". He frowned at the inscription, looking up at Eddie.

"It was my great grandfather's," Eddie explained. "I'm named after him. Wayne found it in a box he'd had in storage forever. It only needed a little work to get it going again. I know it's just a little trinket, and I didn't even have to pay for it, but you like old stuff so much, so I thought you'd appreciate it." He looked unsure of himself, like Steve might reject this gift, too. Fuck, Steve felt like an asshole.

He threw his arms around Eddie, squeezing him tight in a hug. "This is the best present anyone's ever given me," Steve insisted, tears starting to build in his eyes again.

Eddie laughed. "Okay, well, maybe you're over-correcting your gift response a little too much there, big boy."

Steve leaned back to look at Eddie. "I'm serious," he insisted. "It's beautiful and thoughtful and a piece of you."

Eddie blushed. "I'm glad you like it."

Steve turned his attention back to the watch in his hands, flipping it over and looking at it from different angles. "I really do feel like a dick," Steve whispered.

Eddie reached out to still Steve's hands. Steve looked up. Eddie pulled one of Steve's wrists to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the soft skin there. "It's okay, sweetheart. I know you're tired and stressed about your parents."

Steve shivered as Eddie's lips brushed over his skin. He'd always assumed at some point Eddie's touch would start affecting him less, but they were ten years in and he was still hopelessly horny for the man after a chaste wrist kiss.

He put the watch to the side and pulled his hand from Eddie's grip. He clambered onto Eddie's lap, pushing at his chest to get him to lay back on the bed. Steve leaned over to kiss Eddie, tongue snaking into his mouth. He pressed his hardening cock to Eddie's through the thin layers of their pajama pants, and could feel Eddie's cock responding in kind.

"Oh, okay," Eddie laughed when Steve broke the kiss. "Wasn't expecting quite this reaction to the watch, but I'm loving it."

Steve pulled Eddie's shirt up, exposing the pale skin of his belly, a light dusting of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. Steve reverently kissed the skin just below his belly button, a brush of his lips in one of his favorite places. Eddie shivered.

Steve pulled down Eddie's pants, releasing his hard cock, precum beading at the tip.

"Steve, you don't have to give me an apology blowie," Eddie huffed.

Steve glared up at him. "It's not an apology blowie. It's a Christmas present for me, the man who loves to suck your cock."

Eddie smiled fondly down at him, cupping his cheek and then tracing a thumb over his bottom lip. Steve opened his mouth, sucking in Eddie's thumb while he maintained eye contact.

"Alright, then," Eddie breathed. "Be my guest."

Steve let go of Eddie's thumb and leaned forward. He stuck his nose in the crease of Eddie's thigh, inhaling his musky scent, so strong here. He paused for a moment, enjoying being surrounded by the warmth and smell of Eddie.

Turning his head, he kissed the base of Eddie's cock. He kissed his shaft again and again, moving up the length until he reached the tip. He licked the precum from Eddie's slit and sucked the head into his mouth.

Eddie moaned, hands coming to Steve's hair. He grabbed handfuls of it and tugged gently, just the way Steve liked.

Steve worked Eddie's cock into his mouth, getting used to the sensation as he slowly took in more and more of his length. He pressed up with his tongue as he maintained firm suction. More precum flooded his mouth, salty and bitter.

Steve drew in a deep breath and swallowed as he took Eddie all the way into his mouth. His eyes watered as Eddie's cock pushed into his throat, a different kind of tear than before rolling down his cheeks.

"Fuck, Steve," Eddie moaned, hands tightening in Steve's hair. Steve pulled off, gasping in a deep breath. A string of saliva connected his lips to the head of Eddie's cock.

"I want you to fuck me," Steve said. "Hard. Wanna still feel it when I sit down for dinner at my parents'."

Eddie closed his eyes and groaned. "Shit. Okay."

Steve scrambled to take off his clothes, throwing his shirt and sweats across the room. He grabbed the lube from the bedside table and was in the process of squirting some onto his fingers to hastily open himself up when Eddie stole it from him.

"No, I'm gonna do that," Eddie insisted, voice a low rumble. He was naked now, too. "Lay down on your stomach."

A thrill ran through Steve's body straight to his balls. He complied quickly with Eddie's request, pressing his face into his pillow.

Eddie draped his body over Steve's, kissing him between his shoulder blades. He moved down Steve's back, covering what felt like every inch of Steve's skin in kisses as he went.

Steve sighed as Eddie's hands cupped his ass cheeks, spreading them apart. Eddie blew across Steve's rim, making it flutter, then licked over it. He licked Steve like he was the world's most delicious ice cream cone, all firm pressure and wet saliva. Steve keened as Eddie's tongue breached his rim, pushing in gently past the tight muscle.

Steve pressed himself against Eddie's mouth shamelessly. Eddie fucked him slowly with his tongue for what seemed like hours, Steve wiggling his hips and whining for more.

Finally, a finger came up to join the tongue. It slid in easily, Steve's hole wet and relaxed from Eddie's tongue. It was quickly followed by a second finger. Eddie curled his fingers, rubbing against Steve's prostate. He continued to lick around his fingers, keeping everything wet and messy.

"Please, Eddie, please," Steve begged, panting. "I'm ready, I swear, just fuck me."

Eddie laughed against Steve's ass but otherwise ignored him, continuing to lick and finger him with no sign of stopping.

"Eddieeeee," Steve pleaded, pressing his ass even more firmly into Eddie's face. "I need you."

Eddie could never resist that. He pulled his fingers out of Steve, grabbing a pillow to shove beneath Steve's hips. Steve heard Eddie uncapping the lube, then felt Eddie's cock press against his entrance. He slid into Steve slowly as he pressed kisses over Steve's shoulder blades and the back of his neck.

Once he bottomed out, he pressed his forehead to the middle of Steve's back, breathing in deep. He eventually started to move, slowly and gently. It felt amazing, but it wasn't what Steve needed right now.

"I want to feel it, Eddie," Steve whined.

Eddie huffed a laugh against his back. "Alright, princess." He shifted to kneel between Steve's legs, using his hands to pull Steve's hips up off the bed and into the air. He moved one leg to the side and forward to brace himself up on his foot, then began to fuck into Steve in earnest.

"Yesssss," Steve hissed as Eddie pounded into him. His grip on Steve's hips was firm, hard enough to leave bruises. He yanked Steve back onto his cock over and over again as he thrust hard into him.

Steve let out staccato curses and encouragements, another one punched out of him every time Eddie thrust. Eddie was pummeling his prostate now, and Steve was well on his way to coming with his dick untouched.

"You're so fucking perfect, Stevie," Eddie panted. "Gonna cum inside you, fill you up, make you mine." As if Steve wasn't already completely and utterly Eddie's.

"Fucking yes, baby, fill me up," Steve screamed.

Eddie growled and thrust even harder. Steve came with a yelp, spurting cum all over the sheets, his ass clamping down on Eddie's cock. After just a few more thrusts, Eddie came with a grunt, burying himself deep inside of Steve.

Eddie shook through his orgasm, eventually pulling Steve onto his side to spoon him. He kissed Steve's shoulders, and Steve could tell from the pattern of the kisses that Eddie was giving a kiss to each one of his moles.

"I love you, baby," Steve mumbled, stroking the fine hairs on Eddie's arm wrapped around his waist.

"Even though I thought the Indiana Lakers were a thing?" Eddie asked.

Steve snorted. "Yeah. Even after that."

[stellarspecter]

Meet Me At Midnight

my @steddiebingo countdown to midnight fill as well as my @strangerthingswritersguild exchange fic for @mission2mordor! i hope you like it!

tags: fantasy au, noble!steve, bard!eddie | divider by @/enchanthings

Read on AO3

“I don’t like the look of him, but at least the music’s not half bad.” 

Steve leaned back in his chair, picking up his mug of ale and taking a sip. The new bard in town continued his performance, hamming up the daring story of some Lady Apple-something or other. The song itself was nothing revolutionary, the story downright predictable, but the way his fingers danced over the strings, his eyes sparkled, his voice ran smoothly through the notes… Steve couldn’t take his eyes away.

“He’s certainly something,” he agreed, not even glancing over to his cousin. Beside him, Tommy sighed.

“What, do you actually like this?” He sounded unimpressed. “He’s the same as every other peasant who thinks they can sing coming through town with stories of heroes. You know none of them are true, don’t you?”

“How would you know?” Steve retorted. “Have you travelled as much as he has?” 

He knew that Tommy hadn’t, because they’d grown up together in the same town, stuck there their whole lives. Their family was one of the wealthiest around, and their parents weren’t about to risk their heirs wandering off on some adventure and getting killed. No, Steve’s life had been set out for him since birth: marry a noblewoman, take over the Harrington Estate when his father passed, and reign over it with the same iron fist that had been beaten into him.

He hated it.

“Who cares if it’s true, anyways?” He continued. “It’s still a good story.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, but was stopped from continuing the argument by a round of applause starting up, startling them both. Steve quickly joined in as Tommy stood. 

“Gotta piss,” he grunted, and walked off towards the latrine.

Steve was privately relieved to have him gone. Tommy was just the type of friend that his parents liked and he detested. Unfortunately, they were bound together by blood and familial obligation as cousins and heirs to the Harrington wealth. But gods, Steve wished that Tommy would just pick up on the fact that he didn't actually like him. He wished he could just befriend the servants — they seemed pleasant enough. But they could never let their guard down around Steve as long as he remained a Harrington.

“What’s got you looking so down?” A voice questioned, and Steve jumped as he realized the bard had somehow gotten to his table without him noticing.

“Ah — Just lost in thought,” he demurred. “Nothing to worry about. I liked your performance.” He offered him a smile, and the bard returned it, his large eyes crinkling.

“The Tale of Lady Applejack wasn’t enough to make you feel better?” He teased. “I’ll have to play a happier one tomorrow.”

“Oh, I — You don’t need to do that just for me,” Steve said, flushed all of a sudden.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only one to appreciate it,” the bard said, leaning in with a sly smile. He lingered there for a moment too long, then sprung back, sticking his hand out to shake. “Eddie Munson, travelling bard and storytelling extraordinaire.”

Steve took his hand nervously and shook it. “Steve Harrington. Um, Hawkins local.”

“Aw, Steve, I’m sure you can do better than that,” Eddie said, leaning on the table now. “No job? Hobbies? Things you do for fun?”

Steve snorted. “I don’t get to do things for fun.”

“Don’t get to? Do I sense a damsel in distress, calling for aid?” Eddie was clearly teasing, but he looked genuinely concerned underneath the bravado. Steve wasn’t sure of the last time he’d seen that much care directed at him. 

He waved a hand and laughed it off. “I’m no damsel.”

Eddie waggled his eyebrows. “You sure? You’re certainly pretty enough.”

Steve hid his smile behind his cup, picking it up and taking a drink of ale. Before he could pull a sentence together, Tommy came back, his lip curled at the sight of the scruffy bard talking to Steve.

“What are you doing here?” He said, arms crossed. 

Eddie straightened up, dusting off his shirt before falling into a deep, ostentatious bow. “Eddie Munson, travelling bard. Maybe you missed my show earlier.”

Tommy didn’t look any less annoyed. “We didn’t.”

“Ah, so then you do know me!” Eddie sprang back up, his flailing hands catching Steve square in the side. “Sorry.”

Tommy scoffed. “Move. You’re in my way.”

Eddie looked back at the chair he was standing in front of, and back at Tommy. He turned to Steve. “You’re friends with this guy? You seem much too nice for him.”

With a harsh shove, Tommy pushed him aside and reclaimed his seat. “Who do you think you are, talking to us like that?” He spit. 

“I believe I already introduced myself,” Eddie said, for the first time looking less confident in this conversation. 

“Do you even know who you’re speaking to?” Tommy asked.

Eddie straightened up, now back on solid ground. “Sure do. Steve Harrington, Hawkins local, and…” He swiveled around to point at Tommy. “His uppity friend.”

Tommy barked out a laugh. “Hawkins local? That’s one way of putting it.”

Eddie cast a confused glance at Steve, and he wished for a moment that he was brave enough to cut Tommy off, to stop him from coming out with him tonight in the first place. But he was too slow to speak, and his new friend was about to learn why he should never speak to Steve again.

“The Harringtons practically own this town,” Tommy proclaimed, sounding disgustingly proud that he got to rub it in Eddie’s face. “Little Stevie here isn’t like any other Hawkins local — he’s been trained to rule over it since birth.” 

Steve sat shamefaced, staring into his mug. He didn’t want to look up and see Eddie’s reaction.

“And you are?” He heard him ask slowly.

Tommy held out a hand. “Tommy Harrington, his cousin. The other heir to Hawkins.”

Eddie didn’t shake his hand. “I see,” he said. 

“Glad to hear it,” Tommy responded. Steve cursed his association with that smarmy face. I’m not like him! He wanted to yell, but he couldn’t cause a scene and he couldn’t disgrace himself. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Without another word, he took Steve’s arm and yanked him out of his chair, leading him out towards the door.

“I’ll be here all week!” He heard Eddie yell as the door slammed shut behind them.

He thought about it all the way home.

The next night, Steve snuck out again and went to the Hideout. It was a little trickier this time, but Steve was a pro at it by now, and he was able to slip into the town undetected. He had made sure to wear his plainest clothes, not wanting to stick out or seem like he was flaunting his wealth in front of Eddie. 

After the show, he managed to catch Eddie in between talking to patrons at the bar.

“Hi.” He sat on the stool next to him, fingers curled in his lap so he couldn’t see his nervous fidgeting.

“My lord.” Well, that wasn't encouraging. Steve chanced a glance over. Eddie didn’t look angry, more just surprised,  so that was a good sign.

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize for last night,” Steve started. “Tommy’s a prick, but I don’t have much choice in spending time with him. If I could, I would have ditched him as soon as I could and come back to you.”

Eddie was silent for a long moment. “I appreciate that,” he said. “You don’t have any other friends to take to shows?”

“Not… as such, no.” He didn’t want to let on the truth of his situation, which was that Tommy was truly his last and only option. 

“A pity,” Eddie murmured. “Suppose I’ll have to fill that gap.”

Steve looked up, surprised. Their eyes met, and a hopeful warmth grew in his chest. Eddie’s eyes creased at the corners, crinkling in a way that Steve never knew could be attractive, and he was done for.

“One last question,” Eddie started, and Steve nodded, sitting up attentively to answer it. “Why did you lie?”

“I tried not to lie,” he said, edging around the answer. “Technically, I told the truth. Just not all of it.” He sighed. “But that’s not the answer you’re looking for.”

“No.”

“I know I have a charmed life. I know I have what everyone wants. Money, power, influence.” Steve kept his eyes trained on the worn wood of the bar, worrying at the edge with his fingers. “I hate it. No one knows how lonely it is. I wasn’t allowed to fraternize with anyone of a lower station, so the only playmate I had was Tommy. My parents needed an heir, but they didn’t want to deal with a child, so I was raised by nannies and tutors until I was old enough to not need them. My whole life has been set out for me since before I could walk, and I hate it.” He blinked tears out of his eyes, his voice rough with the lump rising in his throat. “I know it probably sounds silly to you — I’m rich, what do I have to complain about? But I — I really do.”

A hand wrapped around his own, calming his fidgeting. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Steve,” Eddie said softly, and Steve couldn’t hold back a shuddery breath. “That doesn’t sound like much of a life,” he observed carefully.

Steve let out a watery laugh and shook his head. “It wasn’t. It isn’t.”

“Well,” Eddie said, eyes sparkling, “I suppose we’re going to have to fix that, aren’t we?”

-

The next week passed unreasonably fast and unbearably slow. Steve came to the Hideout as many nights as he could — which ended up being most of them — and spent them in awe of Eddie. They would stay out sometimes until the small hours of the morning, just talking. Telling each other secrets, dreams, things they’d never told anyone else before. Steve had never felt so close to someone so quickly.

How someone so talented, so beautiful, so exciting, had decided to befriend someone like Steve, who did nothing but capitulate to the whims of his parents, was beyond him, but he couldn’t help but be thankful for it. His days were spent waiting until he could sneak out again, eyes glued to the clock, counting every second.

On the last night, Steve went to see Eddie’s show as he usually did. He was trying not to think about his new routine coming to an end. Maybe Eddie would want to be penpals?

Eddie played his usual songs, a little bit of extra fervor put into them, and was Steve imagining the extra attention directed his way? No, surely it just felt like that because he wanted to catch his eye and congratulate him on such a successful performance. Once it ended, he wasted no time doing just that, buying him a drink as soon as he swung by his table. 

Eddie laughed, but didn’t turn down the beer. “Many thanks for the free drink, my lord.” 

“What are friends for?” Steve asked with a wry smile, and Eddie’s smile softened.

“You’ve been more than just a friend to me, Steve,” he said, a hand laid on top of his own. 

Steve’s mouth fell open. Was he — Did he mean —

“You’ve been a confidant. An ally. A spectacular audience member,” he joked, leaning in to bump their shoulders together, and Steve laughed. “But most of all, you’ve become someone I’ll miss.”

Steve blinked, not expecting him to get so serious. “I’ll miss you too.”

“I’m sure you will.” Eddie’s smile turned wobbly, and he took a deep breath as if to prepare himself. “I have a proposal for you.”

“A — a proposal?” Steve repeated, heart beating faster. Surely he couldn’t mean — But they had only known each other a few days —

“A proposal,” the bard confirmed with a smirk. “As you know, this is my last night in Hawkins. I’ll be leaving after I finish my show at the Hideout.”

“You’re certain you can’t stay any longer?” Steve asked, trying not to pout too obviously at the thought of Eddie leaving. He’d always known it was going to happen — Eddie was a travelling bard, it’s in the job title — but he didn’t like to dwell on it. 

“That’s where you come in,” Eddie told him. “Come with me.”

Steve blinked. There was no way he’d just heard what he thought he did. “Come again?”

“Come with me,” Eddie repeated, and yes, it seemed this was really happening. “That’s my proposal. This week here with you has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time. I love meeting new people and seeing the world and all that, but travelling gets dull sometimes, you know? But meeting you?” A soft smile came over his face to match the blush he was now sporting. “It’s like I’m seeing everything through your eyes, and it’s beautiful.” He held eye contact with Steve as he said that, and somehow he got the sense he wasn’t just talking about the picturesque countryside. “You don’t like it here. You feel trapped. You want to see the world, you said it yourself,” he said bluntly. To hear it all laid out like that was quite the wake-up call. 

“I — I —” Steve stuttered. He felt like he must defend himself, but it was true, wasn’t it? He hated this town, the way he’d never seen what lies beyond it, the trappings of his family name and title weighing him down with every new order his parents gave.

“Take your time to think about it,” he said, a soft look on his face. “I’ll be waiting outside the gates until midnight. If you decide to come with me, meet me there. If you decide you’d rather stay, then…” He swallowed roughly. “Then I shall be on my way.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” Steve said, the words spilling out of him in a rush. “I accept your proposal.”

A bright smile grew on Eddie’s face. “You do?”

Steve nodded. “Of course I do. You’re right, Eddie. You’re right about all of it. I want to see the world. No, more than that. I want to see it with you.”

Eddie’s eyes shined with unshed tears. “Steve Harrington, you truly are incredible.”

“Not half as much as you.” They smiled at each other, basking in their happiness, until Eddie gasped.

“I can show you Evereska! It's where the elves live, everything is so bright there, you’ll love it. Ooh, and the dwarven marketplaces in Mirabar! I could spend hours in there and still barely scratch the surface. Oh, and you've never even been to the Sword Coast!” Eddie gushed, more animated than usual, which was saying a lot for him.

Steve laughed. “Hold on, I still need to gather my things. I don’t think I’ll be able to get there in time for your show, but… I’ll see you at midnight?” 

Eddie grinned, radiant and happy. Steve buzzed with the excitement of knowing he would get to see that all the time. “See you at midnight.”

He darted in for a quick hug, pecked a kiss on his cheek, and whisked away into the dusk, leaving Steve with the scent of dusty leathers and smoke and a burning on his cheek.

Well, he’d better get to it. There was plenty to do before midnight.

[apomaro-mellow]

For Steddie Bingo how about some Regency!AU? 🎩

Steddie Bingo Prompt: Regency AU

Next to him, the lady clapped loudly. Her name might have been Mary or Mary Anne, he couldn't quite recall. There was a din of applause around him, in fact. One that he chose not to join in.

"You didn't enjoy the play?", Mary-something asked.

"Plays are not quite to my taste", Steve said.

"Don't take him so serious", Nathaniel said from the other side of her. "He's in the middle of a feud with one of the actors."

"Who?"

Steve blocked them out as Nathaniel told all of his business. His eyes were on that one certain actor, dressed and made up like Puck. His intense stare could have been mistaken for ire. It all worked in his favor. No one had any idea what he truly felt for the actor or his work.

As usual, after the show, Nathaniel had the actors back in his home. He liked the novelty. And they were natural entertainers. Even off the stage, they liked to tell jokes and sing songs and fill the house with noise late into the night. And just as every time that Steve was invited to join, he spent most of the evening, either glaring distantly or very brazenly antagonizing one man in particular.

Edward Munson was born to be on stage. He lavished in having eyes on him. Even when Steve insulted his performance in front of a crowd. Steve had a drink in his hand and was leaning against the bookshelf, watching as Edward dazzled people on the piano.

"You really enjoy being the center of attention, don't you?", Steve spoke up when the song finished.

"Ah, here comes the ever dower Mr. Harrington", Edward played a few foreboding notes on the keys.

Steve pushed off the bookshelf and stalked towards him. "I suppose I just don't find any joy watching you parade yourself."

"As opposed to being paraded on someone else's leash?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't be let out of the house at all."

"And deprive the world of my talents?" To punctuate, Edward played a more chipper tune.

"You call that talent?"

"No, Mr. Harrington. This is talent." Edward began to play a slow melody, one that changed the entire atmosphere of the room. Then he began to sing, his warm voice filling the air.

Steve wasn't surprised that he had enthralled an entire room. He wasn't surprised that Edward could change genres so easily. He'd seen him in plenty of roles by now, both comedic and tragic. The first time he'd seen him, he was bringing the crowd to tears as Juliet.

When the song ended, Steve backed off with a scoff and the night's entertainments continued. It was still going on as tonight turned into tomorrow and they were able to use the noise to hide as they ran off together in one of the rooms.

"You are an incurable bitch”, Edward said.

“Last week, I was ‘incorrigible’.” Steve set his drink, nearly empty, onto a desk in the room. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Incurable, incorrigible, incredible, your ability to bitch knows no bounds and it makes my desire grow for you each day.” Edward closed the distance and kissed him before pushing him onto the chaise.

“You still make very little sense to me”, Steve said as his lover climbed on top of him.

“Dealing in absurdity is an actor’s trade, my dear. But you make perfect sense to me.”

They traded no more words then. Because while he was a master orator, the stage had also taught Edward to be fluent in body language as well.

@steddiebingo

Bingo card:

[xzerosparrowx]

Written for @steddiebingo.

See my pinned post to follow my Steddie Bingo progress.

Prompt: Last Kiss. Goodbyes. Unhappy Ending | Word Count: 744 | Rating: T | CW: Blood, death. | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Eddie canon death, Steve and Eddie share a moment, all hurt/no comfort.

-

Steve Harrington is a person made of Before and After. There was a Steve before he met Nancy Wheeler and after, another Steve before and after he met Dustin Henderson, before and after Robin Buckly… and now Eddie Munson.

Eddie, an amalgamation of all his favourite people into a singular human being and Steve hated him, unsure what to do with the loud, dramatic boy that seemed to get along with everyone that Steve cared about. A piece of a puzzle that no one knew was lost had just fit so seamlessly into their group, as if he were always meant to be there from the start. Steve feels unsteady in Eddie Munson’s presence, oscillating between anger and anxiety at Eddie’s jokes, the little smiles he gives Dustin and Robin, and the way he smokes a cigarette between shaky fingers. 

Understanding only comes to him in the Upside Down, walking through the dead forest with Eddie rambling next to him and the only thing he can focus on are the rings on his fingers, the rumble in his voice and his lips.

Eddie is strange. Eddie is beautiful.

The idea of kissing Eddie, of kissing another boy, is not as scary as he thought it would be. The idea just passes through him and settles somewhere in his chest where he keeps hidden things inside. Steve will do something about it after they get rid of Vecna.

-

Steve feels it, the wrongness in the air as he walks back with Nancy and Robin to the trailer park, dread curling and twisting itself in his chest forcing him to look back at the Creel house, compelling his feet to quicken their step to Eddie and Dustin.

“Eddie!” Dustin cries and Steve sprints towards them, dropping his bat to the ashen ground, the stone of dread sinking to the pit of his stomach. 

No. No no no no. 

“Steve! Oh God, save him!” Dustin pleads.

Steve has seen death before, knows the heavy copper scent of blood and the way a body looks when breath has left the lungs. Even so, it takes him a moment to comprehend what he is seeing; the dark red blooming on Eddie’s clothes, the short, painful gasp of each breath.

Eddie is dying. 

He feels numb when he kneels beside Eddie, unaware that his feet carried him until he sees those large brown eyes staring up at him.

“That bad, big boy?” Eddie grimaces, blood spitting from his mouth.

“No, nononono you’re gonna be fine, we just gotta get you to a hospital,” Dustin frets, sniffling as he presses his shaky hands to the wounds on Eddie’s ribs. 

“I- I just wanted to help. I didn’t run away this time, right?” Eddie asks, his voice small and fearful sounding odd to Steve’s ears. It is only then, as Eddie wraps a weakened hand around Steve’s wrist that everything comes into focus, Steve’s world catching up to Eddie’s. 

Oh god. Eddie is dying!

“No, Eddie. You fought bravely, I’m gonna save you. Dustin, grab something for us to carry him on- a mattress!” He shouts, ripping off his jacket and tearing strips off his shirt.

“Steve-”

“Hang on Eddie, I’m gonna get you-”

“Steve. Look at me.”

Don’t do this! I can save you!

Steve wants to shout, wants to stamp his feet and yell, to drag Eddie out of this shitty hellhole and back to the real world with him. With him. With Steve. He wants Eddie; wants to see what he’s like when he’s flirty, when he’s drunk, when he’s got a cold, when he wakes up in the morning and goes to sleep at night. Steve wants all of it, all of him. 

Instead, he sees fear and understanding swimming in those large, dark eyes. There is too much blood. Too many wounds.

“I thought we had more time,” Steve whispers, gently cupping Eddie’s face in his hands, bringing himself closer. 

“Fuck,” Eddie laughs, coming out pained and weak, “just my luck. Steve Harrington has a crush on me and I’m-” he whimpers, tears rolling down his temples as he looks up at Steve. Hurt and adoration.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Steve breathes against Eddie’s lips. 

He closes the gap softly, a gentle press of the lips. He can taste the copper and iron in Eddie’s blood, tastes the last cigarette and understands, with a painful ache, that this is it. 

The first.

The last.

A goodbye.

[alicetallula]

Steddie Bingo 2025 - Countdown To Midnight Mini-Event - B1 - Rivals - '17 and strung out on confusion' - Female Steddie - 18.01.2025

Here's my second drawing for the @steddiebingo’s Countdown To Midnight Mini Event

A1 - Blind Date / A2 - Threesome // B2 - Resolution // C1 - Unhappy Ending / C2 - Edging // D1 - Eddie Munson / D2 - Birthday Sex // E1 - New / E2 - Confetti

'17 and strung out on confusion' - Female Steddie - 18.01.2025

The Queen of Hawkins High is in trouble with her rival The Freak of Hawkins High~ 😏

The inspo for the title for this piece is a part of the lyrics from Coming Clean by Green Day 😊💚

Done using watercolors, ink pens, colored pencils, gel pens, alcohol markers, metallic ink pens, acrylic paint pens and Photoshop for the background effect and the title

AO3 post / Bluesky post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

Done using watercolors, ink pens, colored pencils, gel pens, alcohol markers, metallic ink pens, acrylic paint pens and Photoshop for the background effect

AO3 post / Bluesky post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

[alicetallulaafterdark]

Steddie Bingo 2025 - Countdown To Midnight Mini-Event - A2 - Threesome - Cheerleaders are more fun - KingHellCheer - 14.01.2025

Here's my first drawing for the @steddiebingo's Countdown To Midnight Mini Event

A1 - Blind Date // B1 - Rivals / B2 - Resolution // C1 - Unhappy Ending / C2 - Edging // D1 - Eddie Munson / D2 - Birthday Sex // E1 - New / E2 - Confetti

'Cheerleaders are more fun' - KingHellCheer - 14.01.2025

I really wanted to some day draw Chrissy having fun between our boys, so that was the perfect occasion 😊💕

Done using watercolors, ink pens, colored pencils, gel pens, alcohol markers, acrylic paint pens and Photoshop for the background effect and the title

AO3 post / Bluesky NSFW post / DeviantArt post / Pillowfort post / Twitter NSFW post

Done using watercolors, ink pens, colored pencils, gel pens, alcohol markers, acrylic paint pens and Photoshop for the background effect

AO3 post / Bluesky NSFW post / DeviantArt post / Pillowfort post / Twitter NSFW post

[lady-lostmind]

Starting Over

Written for @steddiebingo Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Only One Bed and Main Card Prompt: Starting Over

Rating: T | WC: 2765 

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

Steve turns the key and shoves the sticky door open with a sigh. It’s been a long day. A long drive since there was no way in hell he was letting Eddie drive. All he wants to do is get in, throw their shit down, take a shower, and go to sleep. 

Eddie stumbles in behind him, whistling low as he looks around the tiny apartment. “Not too shabby. Thanks, Buckley.” 

Steve huffs out a laugh tossing a bag to the side and turning to head back down to get another load. Eddie nudges him before he gets to the door and nods to the hallway. “Let's look at the rest of the place first. Fight over who gets the bigger room.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a smile. “Fine.” 

Eddie bounces down the hall, poking his head into every room he comes to before freezing in front of the last room and looking over at Steve with a confused look. “Robin said they were leaving all the furniture while they’re gone, right?”

Steve nods, walking down the hall to catch up with him. “Yeah, why?” 

Steve turns to look in the bedroom Eddie is staring into with wide eyes and– it’s empty. He hops across the hall to the other room and peers in– bed, side table, dresser, even Robin’s beat up tv from her bedroom at home. He turns back to Eddie with his hands on his hips. “Huh– I guess Cassidy actually moved out, then?” 

Eddie shrugs. “Thought they were both coming back after the semester is over.” 

Steve sighs and goes into Robin’s room, perching on the edge of the bed and grabbing the phone off the table. He digs in his pocket for the piece of paper he scribbled her number on and squints at it as he dials, hoping he’s not way off on the time difference and she’s actually awake. She answers after the fourth ring with a groan. “Whoever you are, you better be dead. Or– dying. Actually, maybe I’m going to kill you.” 

Steve grins and huffs out a laugh. “Sorry, Robs. I haven’t figured out when you’re actually awake yet.”

Robin groans again. “Die.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “So nice to hear from you too. So glad you made it okay. We also made it through our trip fine, thanks for asking.”

Robin groans.

Steve laughs and settles on the bed more. “What gives, I thought Cassidy agreed to let us rent the place as is for the semester?” 

Robin is quiet for a minute and then clearly confused. “What do you mean? She did.”

Steve shakes his head. “I mean…her room is totally empty so–”

“WHAT!?” Robin squawks in his ear. 

Steve grimaces. “I don’t know! All her stuff is gone!”

Robin is silent and then sniffles, like maybe she’s trying not to cry.

Steve sits up, gripping the phone harder as his heart sinks. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

Robin still doesn’t say anything and Steve sighs, realizing what an idiot he’s been. “So you guys were–”

Robin sighs, and Steve knows the answer. “I’m so sorry, babe. What can I do?”

Robin huffs out a wet laugh. “It’s my fault. Really. We got in a fight before I left.” She sighs. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m sorry though. I know I promised you guys a fully furnished place while you figure something else out.” 

“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll figure something out. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m on the adventure of a lifetime, babe. Probably for the best anyway.” 

Steve sighs. “Okay, but call me if you need to.”

“I will, dingus.”

Steve hangs up with her after lots of promises on both ends to call more. He glances up at Eddie who is waiting impatiently to be filled in. 

“So– what’s the deal?”

Steve sighs, shaking his head. “Cassidy bailed on her.” 

Eddie lets out a low whistle. “That sucks.” He looks around at the room with a shrug. “Dibs on Buckley’s room.”

Steve’s jaw drops open with a gasp. “You can’t call dibs on the only room with a fucking bed. If anyone gets her room, it’s me. We’re platonic whatevers. She doesn’t want you sleeping in her bed.”

Eddie scoffs. “What am I, some feral animal? Why wouldn’t she want me in her bed!?”

Steve’s face scrunches in disgust. “We all saw your mattress, dude.” 

Eddie’s mouth clenches into a hard line before opening and closing a few times. “I honestly have no argument for that.” 

Steve laughs. “We could switch on and off until we can afford another bed? One on the couch, one in here?”

Eddie sighs, tugging at the end of his hair. “We could just share?”

Steve’s brows cinch together. “Like, just sleep here, together?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “I mean, unless you had something else in mind, big boy.”

Steve’s face goes beat red and he rolls his eyes, trying to ignore the little swoop in his stomach. “Fuck you.”

Eddie shrugs, opening his mouth to make another snide remark but Steve throws a pillow at his head, effectively shutting him up. 

Steve sighs, trying to come up with any excuse to say no. “I guess it’s just temporary, right?” 

Eddie nods, hugging the pillow to his chest. 

Steve sighs, “Fine.” 

The rest of the night is spent unloading all their crap from Eddie’s van, and bickering over where to put things. When they’re finally unpacked, Steve collapses on the couch with a groan and looks up where Eddie is hovering over him with a menacing grin. Steve narrows his eyes. “What?” 

Eddie bounces on his toes. “Can we order a pizza?”

Steve sighs. “We need to save money.”

Eddie nods.”I know but we also need to eat. And we didn’t stop for lunch earlier so we could really say we’re just using money already allotted for take out and–” He flashes him another smile. “I really want to try a Chicago deep dish.” 

Steve sighs again, but his stomach rumbles loudly, betraying him and Eddie’s smile spreads even further. Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine! But I get the shelf in the bathroom.” 

Eddie sticks his hand out and grabs Steve’s, shaking it roughly. “Sold. Pleasure doing business with you, sir.” 

Steve shakes his head and pulls his hand back. “You order and I’ll go take a shower.” 

Eddie gives him a little salute and heads off toward the kitchen. 

The pizza is good. Way better than anything they have in Hawkins, that’s for sure. Steve is full, and happy. Can’t believe they actually did it. They got out. They’re starting over. Away from all the crazy monsters and other dimensions. Normal lives. He can actually see having a life here. And when Robin gets back, it’ll be even better. But for now it’s just him and Eddie. And he thinks it’s going to be good. They both need this reset. They need a fresh start. 

Steve yawns and stretches his legs out on the couch, his feet pushing against Eddie’s leg. Eddie swats at his foot with a grin and tosses his paper plate on the coffee table. “You ready for bed?” 

Steve nods, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah. I’m exhausted.” 

Eddie nods. “Me too.” 

By the time Steve gets done with his nightly routine, Eddie is already splayed out in the middle of the bed, snoring softly. Steve rolls his eyes fondly as he turns off the lamp and tries to squeeze in next to him, tugging the blanket from his tight grip and hanging off the edge of the bed. Steve sighs and tries to nudge Eddie over to his side of the bed but instead of turning away from Steve he turns toward him, his arm wrapping around his middle and pulling him close. Steve’s eyes go wide and he freezes. This is quite literally his worst nightmare. Or maybe a dream come true, if the way his heart leaps into his throat has anything to say about it. But– he can’t listen to his stupid heart. That thing gets him in too much trouble. 

Steve sighs, not sure how to extract himself from Eddie’s death grip without waking him up. He tries to carefully wiggle out of his grasp but no matter how he moves Eddie just holds on tight, and snuggles closer into Steve’s back. Steve goes limp with a huff. Robin is a big cuddler when she sleeps, too. This isn’t any different, right? It doesn’t have to mean– It doesn’t mean anything. They’re friends. Just like Robin. And he doesn’t mind, really. Just thought it might be a little…awkward if they wake up like this. But, he’s so comfortable, and it’s not like Eddie knows, right?  And he’s fucking exhausted so–

Steve settles into the bed and goes to sleep with Eddie wrapped firmly around him. 

When Steve wakes up, he’s alone in the bed. Which seems weird since Eddie is never awake before noon. He turns over and squints at the clock on the bedside table. 

9:35am 

Steve shakes his head. Guess we’re going with awkward, then. He gets out of bed, taking his time before making his way down the hall. Eddie is sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee, which he almost spills when he looks up and sees Steve standing in the doorway. Steve raises his eyebrows at him and heads to the kitchen to make himself a cup too. When he turns back around, he finds Eddie already staring at him. “You good, man?”

Eddie drops his eyes and clears his throat. “Oh, yeah. Uh– I’m okay. Good– yeah. Fine.” 

Steve’s brow scrunches together. “Okay–” He sits down on the couch next to Eddie and sighs when Eddie visibly scoots a few inches away from him. 

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to face him more. “Okay, seriously. What’s your problem, man?”

Eddie still won’t look at him, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Nothing.”

Steve glares at him. “Okay–” A mean little smirk pulls across his face as he settles back on the couch. “How’d you sleep?”

Steve can barely hold in his laughter as he watches Eddie’s face turn bright red, his eyes going wide and shocked. “Uh– I uh–”

Steve takes a sip of his coffee. “You were up pretty early. Was the bed not comfortable?”

Eddie tugs at the end of his hair and looks at his hands. “No! It was–” He lets out a heavy sigh. “It was fine. Just uh– thought I’d get a jump start today. You know.”

Steve bites his cheek to stop from laughing. He’s being a little mean. He knows he is. Eddie is obviously embarrassed about this. But it’s so ridiculous Steve can’t help himself. So Eddie cuddled up to him in his sleep last night. Big deal. Plus, it’s fun to tease him. Eddie teases everyone about everything, and is usually unphased by anything thrown his way. So seeing him flustered, well– who could resist? 

Steve shrugs. “Well, I slept great.” 

Eddie sucks in a short breath, the red on his face deepening even more. 

Steve decides to take pity on him, leaning forward to grab the paper off the table. “Let’s see if there’s any good job listings, yeah?” 

Eddie gives him a tiny nod and visibly relaxes into the couch. 

–

It’s been a week since they moved in and Eddie has spent every night on the couch. Steve feels awful. He can tell he isn’t sleeping for shit, and if he hadn’t teased him about that first night, he wouldn’t be avoiding the bed, and Steve, like this. 

Steve pauses at the doorway to the living room, hands on his hips. “Eddie, come on, man. You can’t sleep out here on that shitty couch. Just come to bed.” 

Eddie shakes his head. “No, it’s cool. I really don’t mind it out here.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. He hasn’t asked him about it directly. He hasn’t even brought it up at all. But this is getting ridiculous. “Listen–”

Eddie groans and rakes his hands down his face. “I can’t, okay? I–” He sighs heavily and looks up at Steve with his big, sad doe eyes. 

Steve’s brow scrunches and he shakes his head, confused. He knows he embarrassed him about the cuddling thing but he’s acting like it would be the end of the world to sleep next to him again. Does he– Oh shit. He figured it out. He knows Steve has this massive embarrassing crush on him. He thought he was doing a good job of hiding it. Or at least a better job after– Steve cringes thinking about that night so long ago when they were high and Steve had stupidly reached out and brushed his pretty hair out of his face. The shock he’d seen in Eddie’s eyes. The way he froze and watched Steve’s hand as if he were moving in slow motion. Steve knew he made a mistake. That he’d…read things wrong. He brushed it off as best as he could, and buried his feelings as deep as possible so he wouldn’t lose Eddie as a friend. And it worked. Besides Robin, Eddie is his best friend. They moved past it. 

Until now. Now Steve’s stupid crush is showing its head again and it’s going to ruin everything right when things are supposed to be getting better. Maybe he can fix this. Maybe he can backtrack all of this. Maybe he can scrounge enough cash together to buy a fucking bed and pretend this never–

“I like you, Steve.” Eddie’s voice filters through his internal spiral but it doesn’t make any sense. At all. 

Steve’s face scrunches as he rolls that around in his head a few times. But it’s still coming out all wrong. “What–?”

Eddie tugs his fingers through his hair. “I can’t sleep next to you, okay? I thought it would be fine, and I could be fucking normal about it, but I can’t. My stupid unconscious brain is no good at hiding this. I–” Eddie looks up at Steve with horror in his eyes. “I fucking plastered myself to you while we we sleeping, Steve.” Eddie sighs heavily and slumps against the couch. “I’m so sorry. I should have known better. I have a hard enough time controlling myself around you when I’m actually awake, so–”

Steve’s brain finally catches up with the program. Realizes what Eddie’s actually saying. “Oh.” A little smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “You like me.” 

Eddie slumps against the couch looking completely defeated. “Yeah–” Steve starts walking toward Eddie, whose eyes get wider and wider as he gets closer and closer. He sinks further into the couch like he’s afraid Steve is about to sucker punch him or something, his words coming out in a rambled rush. “And I’m sorry, okay? I know this probably ruins every–”

Steve leans down and cups Eddie’s jaw, tilting his head up to look at him as he leans in close, their lips almost touching. Eddie pulls back, eyes still wide and scared. “What are you doing?” He whispers.

Steve smirks, running his thumb along Eddie’s skin. “What does it look like I’m doing?” 

Eddie’s eyes flick between Steve’s, like he can’t believe what’s happening. “Don’t fuck with me, Steve.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “I don’t know. I was hoping we might get around to that.” Eddie’s eyes grow comically large and he sucks in a little gasp. “But I figured we could start with a kiss. See where it go–”

Eddie’s lips press harshly against his and his hand winds its way into Steve’s hair, tugging gently. Steve smiles against Eddie’s mouth, chuckling lightly and making him pull back with worry. “Sorry, did I–”

Steve shakes his head. “No. No, just–” He leans back in, pressing his lips more gently to Eddie’s, licking softly at his lower lip until Eddie’s relaxes and parts his lips, letting Steve into his mouth. They both moan into it, hands gripping harder, pulling each other closer. Steve slips down onto Eddie’s lap, straddling his thighs and sighing when Eddie’s hands slide down to grab his ass. They stay that way, tongues tangling together and rocking slowly against each other until Eddie finally breaks the kiss with a laugh. He shakes his head staring at Steve like he’s mesmerized by him. “Is this fucking real right now?” 

Steve huffs out a laugh and shrugs before climbing off of Eddie’s lap and nodding toward the hallway. “Wanna come to bed and find out?”

[steddiebingo]

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[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo.

Midnight Rain

Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Midnight | Word Count: 1062 | Rating: T | CW: Alcohol, Language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Future Fic, Famous Corroded Coffin, Post Break-Up, Eddie's Going Through It, Gareth's a Good Best Friend, Angst, Hopeful Open Ending

Eddie's sprawled on the couch of the fancy hotel, in a room overlooking the city, literally at the top. He tilts back the bottle, downing it. The show tonight was great, another sold out arena. The crowd, the lights, the whole show, electric. 

But now it's midnight, and he's alone as the rain pelts against the floor to ceiling windows.

When they walked back into the hotel, there was a group of friends in the lobby, coming in from their night out, still in their fancy clothes, celebrating a birthday. Soaking wet, but happy.

Singing to Steve. 

A Steve, not his Steve, not that he has any Steve these days.

Just the mention of someone that shares his name was enough to send Eddie into a spiral. It's hard to reflect back on his mistakes. On the life that he gave away. Steve Harrington. Sunshine personified, while Eddie's a storm cloud, midnight rain.

He's haunted.

Eddie decided to chase that fame, while Steve stayed the same. Comfortable where he was, while Eddie could only chase more pain. He was damaged after that spring break, damaged after his mother's death, damaged after it all. His whole life. It's all he knew. He didn't deserve anything better. He wanted to punish himself, then, and forever.

He deserved the pain of the music business meat grinder chewing him up and spitting him out.

Except it didn't. 

They made it. The tide turned. Something good, finally. He got just what he wanted. 

And he's tried to tell himself that it was worth it. Most days he believes it.

Then, he thinks of Steve Harrington.

But Eddie knows Steve never thinks of him, except maybe when he's on MTV, right in his face.

Eddie tries not to think of him either, except for midnights like this. When he's slid into the regret, the sorrow, the pain that he might have sold his soul to the devil, losing the best thing he ever had in the process.

Hawkins was a wasteland. A prison. And Eddie had to go. 

But Steve thought it was home, and wanted to stay. Wanted a life, a family. The house, the two-car garage, the kids. 

Eddie wanted to make a name for himself.

And he fucking did. Eddie Munson is a household name, a brand.

Eddie, himself though. He's hollowed out. The spark, gone.

The door opens, closes, and Gareth is tossing his jacket on the chair. 

"You should have seen her tits–" he starts, then stops, when he sees Eddie, his tone changing immediately, "What happened? Eddie? Talk to me."

"I broke his heart 'cause he was nice," Eddie slurs. 

"Goddamnit," Gareth says, sitting down next to Eddie, prying the little bottle from the mini bar from his hand. There's a half dozen more scattered across the coffee table, already empty.

A menagerie of liquors that are now mixed together, churning in his stomach.

The band can afford it.

But he's not sure he can. 

"I left you alone for an hour," Gareth accuses, but it's not harsh. It's sad. 

"I left him alone for a decade," Eddie counters, scrubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. But he didn't. Steve's not alone. No way. Luckily, these nights are few and far between, but when they steamroll him, it's like he's been hit by a truck.

The last time it was that Christmas card pinned to Wayne's fridge. Steve, a girlfriend and dog. No babies. No ring. Not yet. But smiling wide, looking perfect. Happy.

Wayne hadn't realized what it would do to him. Wayne's never mentioned Steve again, not ever, and if he's still on the Harrington holiday card list, Eddie will never know about it.

"Steve Harrington is fine," Gareth says, as if that's reassuring. Eddie isn't worried that Steve isn't fine. He knows he is. Knows he landed on his feet, is happy out there, somewhere. Probably with his bride, his dog, and now kids. A whole happy life.

There's no other option.

Eddie's unbearable loss was someone else's infinite gain.

"I'm not," Eddie says, reaching for one of the unopened bottles, and Gareth snags it first. 

"You're not what?" 

"Fine." 

"You are fine. Go to bed, it'll be better in the morning," Gareth says, pulling him up off his ass, and stripping him down to his underwear, forcing him onto his side in the bed.

Not his bed, never his own bed. The last time he had one of those, Steve was next him.

At least this one is comfortable, and he nuzzles into the pillow, his stubble scratching against the soft pillowcase.

Gareth's standing there looking at him. 

"'m fine, go." 

"I just need a shower. Then I'll bunk in with you tonight. Go to sleep. I'll be right back."

Eddie nods, and it feels like seconds later when the bed dips. The mattress shifts with the weight of Gareth. 

Gareth slings his arm over Eddie's back, being the big spoon. His wet hair tickling the back of Eddie's neck.

"You're not doing this anymore," Gareth says, and Eddie doesn't have it in him to argue, so he just goes back to sleep.

Eddie has a hangover from hell. His head is throbbing and he refuses to open his eyes for the longest time. Just laying there, regretting last night. Regretting a lot of things. But last night especially.

He hates when he gets that way. Steve is long gone. There's no taking that back. He ruined them, and he has to live with it. 

When he finally swings his legs over the edge of the bed, hanging his head, eyes downcast, he sees that there's a note on the nightstand. Gareth's familiar handwriting scrawled across the hotel stationary:

He said to call him.  S.H. - 765-555-0385

Eddie looks up, and Gareth's on the couch, staring at him. Cup of coffee resting on his knee, his foot braced against the edge of the coffee table. The same table that's now clean, no traces of his bender last night.

"You talked to him?" Eddie croaks, voice dry and scratchy.

Gareth nods. 

"He's…he's still…?" Eddie questions, not even sure of the rest of the question he was starting to ask. He has too many.

Gareth nods again.

Eddie picks up the paper, clutching it tight in his fist.

And he finally feels something he hasn't in years:

Hope.

If you want to sign up for a future bingo event or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiebingo and follow along with the fun!

Notes: Inspired by the Taylor Swift song Midnight Rain.

[katyawriteswhump]

sleigh bells ring, I'm not listening! (steddie holiday drabble/bingo/whumpcember)

For @steddieholidaydrabbles day 5 prompt, Winter Sports; my first @steddiebingo fill, ‘Dustin Henderson,’ and @whumpcember day 21 prompt, ‘bruises.’ (It was originally day 5 prompt, concussion, but I ended up sparing the boys that for once!)

WC: 977; Rating T; CW: None; Tags: established steddie, mild whump hurt/comfort, fluff.  Maths terms provided by my partner. I have no idea what they mean and have doubtless misused them.

Summary: Steve loves all sports. Apart from winter sports. So, when he’s literally dragged from bed to go sledding with Dustin and Eddie, he’s surprised when it turns out rather magical…

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“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Steve trailed a sled along the snowy track. He glared hotly at Dustin, then pleadingly at Eddie, who trudged on his other side. “It’s too cold for anything other than fucking… sleep.”

Eddie smirked. He didn’t look as miserable as Steve, which was annoying. Dustin, meanwhile, was having none of it:

“Dudes! This is your once-in-a-lifetime embarkation on a voyage of mathematical curiosity. Today, we’re exploring chaos theory! Mandelbrot bifurcations! Feigenbaum constants! You’re never gonna paddle those icy waters alone.”

“You wanna stick a pin in that balloon-head?” Steve asked Eddie, “or should I?” 

Eddie laughed then sneezed dramatically. Steve stopped dead. “You know what? I love sports. Apart from winter sports. Skiing. Luge. Skating. All that shit. Hate it.”

“You worship at the altar of ice-hockey,” pointed out Eddie. 

“Whose side are you on?” Steve nearly yelled: I’m not being dragged into this by a pair of sport-hating geeks! Instead, he mumbled, pathetically, “Wanna go home.”

By now, they’d reached Hawkins’ top sledding slope. A smattering of kids zoomed down the super-compacted ice. Eddie regarded the scene with a misty smile, which shocked Steve out of his grouchiness.

“I’m in, Henderson.” Eddie’s smile evolved into a full-on-adorable, dimpled grin. “I got great memories of this spot—me, mom, and a big-ass tea-tray. Who needs a goddamn sled?”

“We do.” Dustin whipped out a stopwatch. “We’ve a shitload of interesting variables at play here. Let’s go.”

‘Science’ commenced. Dustin sledded first, then Steve, who gritted his teeth and endured. Eddie went last, screaming his way down the slope… 

“…like a little girl,” said Dustin to Steve, super-earnest. “A little girl who’s in need of hugs, Steve.”

“Bullshit on so many levels.” Steve pointed to a nearby grade-school sledder. “She isn’t screaming. And my boyfriend’s scream is totally metal.”

“Okay. Just, y’know…” Dustin mumbled behind his hand, as Eddie approached with the sled. “He needs more hugs.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. Huh?

After several more runs, Dustin leafed through his notebook. “Interesting data. Now, both of you—on the sled.”

Steve planted frozen fists on his hips: “No way. Not big enough.”

“It’s fine,” said Eddie. “Totally bigger than mom’s tea-tray.”

Steve silently surrendered yet again. Eddie treasured memories of his mom, who passed when he was young. This clearly meant a lot to him, as well as Dustin, so Steve took pole position to steer—as much as anyone could with a dumb rope. Eddie perched behind, wrapping his arms around Steve, notching his chin on Steve’s shoulder. It was super-cosy, and… yeah, super-nice. They didn’t usually get this close in public, plus they’d avoided showing affection in front of their friends lately because—

“Ready?” yelled Dustin.

Steve’s nerves jangled. Eddie yelled: “Hell, yeah! Steddin’ with the Devil!”

“3, 2, 1, GO!”

Heel-power propelled them off. Wind whooshed through Steve’s hair, while Eddie unleashed his most deafeningly ‘metal’ scream yet. It was a bumpy ride, but mega-fun. Steve found himself grinning madly, though fearing for his hearing, and then:

“Shiiiiit!” He spotted the rock way too late. On impact, the world flipped, and he was thrown from the sled, landing heavily on his side. He suppressed a whimper, because something else mattered way more:

“Eddie?”

His heart lurched to his throat, pounding madly even after he spotted Eddie lying in the snow. Steve scrambled up, limped gingerly over: “You okay?”

“Yeah. You?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie finished his snow-angel and sat up, shaking his hair like a wet dog: “Mom said it ain’t sledding till you crash.”

 “All good, gentlemen?” panted Dustin, skidding to join them.

“Apparently.” Steve dumped his bruised butt down next to Eddie.

“Great,” said Dustin. “Why aren’t you hugging?”

 “Uuuuuuh, should we be?”

“Yes!” shouted Dustin, and it all blurted out. Apparently, ‘science’ had a secondary agenda.  “You used to be all lovey-dovey smoochy! Lately, you’ve hardly touched. I figured if I got you squished on a sled, adrenaline rushing, old magic might rekindle?”

Steve merely gawked at Dustin, whose recent weirdness began to make sense. Eddie, meanwhile, threw his arms around Steve’s neck and spoke between bursts of crazy laughter: 

“The issue here, Dustin Henderson, is lack of Party communication. We stopped touching, because Max said we made her wanna hurl. Mike complained it was creepy! We’re still in love! I mean, when you thumped on our door today, we were totally fu… cuddling.” 

“Oh,” said Dustin, visibly brightening. Eddie resumed cackling into Steve’s shoulder. Steve took his cue to fling both arms around Eddie and burrow close for warmth.

Once back home, they got dry and toasty, gently kissing each other’s more visible bruises. Eventually Eddie, stretched out on the bed, noticed Steve’s slight limp. “You got another bruise to show me, Baby?”

Steve tugged down his pants, revealing a mottled rainbow-spectrum of colors spreading up his thigh and ass-cheek to his hip. He coyly arched a brow. “Honest to God, today was a blast and totally worth it… but, yeah, that spot requires serious kissing better.”

“Looks too sore even for kisses.” Eddie flung open his arms. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t you dare be. It was my shitty steering.”

“C’mere. Right now.”

Steve obeyed, rolling back into the enthusiastic lovemaking that science and goddamn Henderson had interrupted. He bitched about his bruise, but only slightly—especially as Eddie lavished extra care on nearby areas, with lips and tongue, to distract him.

“Sledding again tomorrow?” suggested Eddie, much later, while they snuggled inside watching fresh snow falling.

“You are joking, right?”

“Don’t worry, Stevie. Your ass is safe… though maybe not from me.”

Eddie’s answer segued into a sweet, lingering kiss, which Steve returned enthusiastically. He’d learned important shit today about his two favorite people. Eddie loved sledding. And Dustin loved his friends loving each other. Steve still blindsided himself, breaking the kiss to whisper:

“Maybe more sledding next week?”

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tags: @wheneverfeasible 💚 My stranger things fic on AO3

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

By night, you're mine

Written for the Countdown to Midnight bonus card of the @steddiebingo and for the January round of the @stmonstercalendar

Prompts: Overstimulation & Dragon

Rated: E

Words: 2,140 (also on AO3)

Pairing: Steve/Eddie

Tags: Fantasy AU; King!Steve; Dragon!Eddie; Established relationship; Mates; Soul Bonds; Monsterfucker Steve; Possessive Eddie; Overstimulation; Multiple orgasms; Coming dry

Notes: Happy Dragon Appreciation Day and happy two-year AO3-versary to Hic sunt dracones. This is "that one time Eddie threw overstressed Steve over his shoulder like a bag of flour" mentioned in the epilogue of the original fic.

“-which normally I'd be happy to do, but we still need to be careful with our provisions, so I said I'd need to check in with you first.”

“Huh?” Steve startles, tearing his gaze from the scrolls before him to find Wayne measuring him with a quizzical look. “Sorry, what?” 

Wayne raises a bushy eyebrow. “The new volunteers for the castle guard. I'd love to take on more, but maintaining an army is costly, and we need to be careful with our resources going into the winter.” 

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Yeah, no, you're right.” 

He looks back down at the numbers on the parchment - harvest records, presumably. It's turned dark since he sat down with them, and he still hasn't made it past the first few lines. Every time he tries to concentrate, the ink starts to wiggle and dance before his eyes. He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose to chase away the dull headache throbbing behind his temples, but all it does is make the ringing in his ear go louder. 

“Listen, son,” Wayne says. His tone is kind. Steve doesn’t understand how he can still be so fucking patient with him. “You don't have to decide this today. It's alright to-” 

“Do things at my own pace,” Steve snaps. “I know. You've told me. Eddie has told me. Everyone has told me, in fact. Everyone keeps on telling me, and quite frankly, it's starting to go on my nerves, so I'd appreciate it if you could just fucking not.” 

He regrets the words before they’re even completely out, before silence drops heavily over the study.

Wayne draws a breath to say something - maybe an apology, maybe a rebuttal. Steve never finds out, because that is when the door swings open and a glowering dragon breezes into the room. 

Eddie is pissed, Steve doesn't need the annoyed twinge of their soul bond to know as much. It's glaringly evident, from the scowl on his face to the restless twitch of his wings and right down to the way his tail swishes behind him.

“Eddie, can’t this wait?” he sighs. “I'm in the middle of something here, I don’t-” 

Eddie ignores him.

“I got it from here,” he tells Wayne, and then the next thing Steve knows is that the room flips upside down. 

“What the fuck?” he yelps, legs kicking uselessly at thin air as Eddie hoists him clean out of his chair and throws him over one shoulder. “Put me down, you big brute, I'm not done here!” 

He slaps at the spot between Eddie’s wings with one hand, trying to keep his flower crown from falling over his eyes with the other, but all it gets him is a warning rumble and a squeeze of the hand against his ass. 

“Oh, you're done,” Eddie says, carrying him through darkening halls and past gawking servants. “Believe me.”

Steve keeps yelling and griping at him all the way up the winding staircase to their tower room, but it's no use. Eddie unceremoniously throws him down into their nest and doesn't wait for him to get his bearings before he crawls in after him and brackets him with his weight.

“Fuck, will you leave it?” Steve growls, trying to scramble back upright. “I don't have time for this shit, I need to-” 

Eddie snarls against his lips, anger and desire and lovelovelove sizzling over their bond as he pins him down into the sheets, and Steve forgets why he was fighting back. His body reacts to his mate’s touch on pure instinct, and soon he finds himself arching up into Eddie’s warmth and gasping into his mouth like a drowning man coming up for air. 

“Go on,” Eddie says when they finally break apart, cupping Steve’s face in both hands so that he must look into his eyes. “Tell me. What do you need? Because we both know that whatever the fuck it is you’ve been doing lately is not the answer, beloved.”

Somewhere behind Steve’s collarbone, the bond tugs. 

“It’s not that easy,” he claims. “I have a ton of things to do, I can't just- ... Fall will be over soon, and I still don’t know if the harvest will be enough to get us through the winter. People might go hungry, or worse, and it will be my fault if- ... My father never cared about their struggles and if I just let things repeat themselves, they’ll- … I can’t become the kind of king he was, I can’t!” 

His dragon sighs, kissing his forehead, just below the lopsided flower crown.

“And you won’t. There’s no way you ever will. But working yourself until you drop will not make you a better king.” He’s so full of conviction, so full of this unwavering adoration that Steve still isn’t sure he deserves, even though he has gotten better at accepting it. It spills over into the bond, making it thrum and glow as he trails more kisses down Steve’s cheekbones and jaw and neck, until he finds the bite mark on his shoulder. “You need to be kinder to yourself, my love. I’ve hardly seen you in days. Haven’t fucked you in longer.” 

“I should’ve known this was about sex,” Steve says, but there's no malice behind it. “Do you also sometimes think of other things than fucking me?” 

“Beg your pardon? I think about plenty of things,” Eddie pouts, even as one of his hands reaches between them and starts tugging at the bindings of Steve’s breeches. “Fingering you. Sucking your cock. Pleasuring you with my tongue until you scream. Riding you until you come inside of me. None of which I've done in weeks, for the record.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, lifting his hips so that Eddie can undress him, and sighing in bliss when their naked bodies slot together.

“It's not been weeks, you big baby. You fucked me damn near senseless after that audience with the clergy, and that wa- aaaah, shit.” 

Eddie, who has crawled between his legs to lick a long, wet stripe up the length of his hardening cock, gives him a petulant look. 

“Eleven days ago, beloved. I've counted.” 

“See?” Steve insists. “That's not weeks. That's hardly even-” 

Eddie bites down on the soft flesh of his thigh, wrapping a hand around his base, and his head thuds back into the pillows. 

“It's been too long,” his dragon insists, soothing the fresh teeth marks with his tongue. The tug in Steve’s chest turns into a hot, insistent pull - a needy thing that tingles through his entire body and leaves his mouth as a weak moan. “Stop being stubborn and admit it, you little tease.” 

His hand starts stroking Steve's cock - tantalisingly light, not nearly enough - at the same time that his fangs find the bite mark again, and Steve’s spine nearly arches off the sheets.

“Alright, fine,” he blurts, hands tangling in Eddie’s hair, trying to guide that beautiful mouth back to where it should be, but his mate remains stubborn. “It’s been too long. Missed you. Want you, need you. Eddie, please!” 

“Well,” his dragon hums, pressing a wet kiss to his flushed shaft, and the noise vibrates right into Steve’s veins like liquid fire. “If my king commands it, who am I to refuse?” 

*

Steve comes with a hoarse sob, spent cock twitching feebly against the sticky mess coating his stomach. Some of it is his, even though he seems to have none left by now, even the thin, watery drops of his second and third climax having run dry. Most of it is Eddie’s, who never seems to grow tired or limp, no matter for how long they keep it up. Who has been taking him apart for hours now - with his cock and his fingers and his tongue, then his cock again, like he’s hellbent on making up for the past few days in the course of one single night. 

Steve whines and writhes, trying to squirm away from that white-hot pleasure-pain sensation that's setting every single one of his nerve ends on fire, but Eddie has him bent in half on his cock, Steve's legs slung over his shoulders, and he can't get away, can't do anything but lie here and take it as his dragon keeps thrusting into him with long, deep rolls of his hips. 

“Eddie,” he gasps, not quite sure where he even pulls words from, swatting at his mate’s head with feeble hands. “Eddie, please.” 

Eddie chuckles against the hollow of his throat, breath warm and ticklish against the fresh marks on his skin. 

“Please what, my pretty? Fuck you harder? Deeper?” He rocks his hips as if to demonstrate, so deep Steve swears he feels the outline of his huge, ridged cock bulge through the skin of his stomach, smug amusement thrumming over the bond at the breathy moan it gets him. “Make you come again? You have to use your words, how else am I supposed to know what you're thinking?” 

Steve thinks he's mated to a fucking dickhead, and Eddie catches it, because he laughs again as he shifts their positions. And then his hand finds Steve's entrance, one come-slicked finger stretching him open to wiggle inside, and Steve yelps.

“Break! Need a break, please, it's too much, I can't-” 

He's hardly made it three or four words into his desperate babble before Eddie has slipped out of him, pulling him against his chest and combing his sweat-soaked hair from his face. 

“So well done, my love,” he rumbles, once Steve has caught his breath and calmed down enough to hear other sounds beside his own racing heartbeat in his ears. “See how you can just tell people you need a break and nobody will be mad at you?” 

Steve snorts, happily tilting his head up for a kiss. Every muscle in his body feels loose and relaxed. 

“Yeah, point made, thank you. Except I don't think people's lives and happiness depend on whether I can come five times in a row or only four.” 

“Says you,” Eddie grumbles, and Steve wraps shaking fingers around his horns to pull him in and kiss the scowl off his lips. 

They don't talk much for a while after that, content to just bask in each other's warmth and exchange caresses and kisses. Eddie starts cleaning their combined relief away with his tongue, grinning when Steve’s spent cock twitches at the attention. 

“I'll cut you a deal, beloved.” 

Steve, who has drifted off into that pleasant dozy state that always comes after a good fucking, hums reluctantly. His head is too heavy to lift, but it's a pleasant kind of heaviness, and he knows that it's alright to give himself to it, because Eddie’s here to take care of him.

Eddie smiles, kissing the inside of his thigh before crawling back up, leaning on his elbows to gaze down at him. His tail comes curling up to wrap around the both of them, pointed tip playing with Steve's hair. 

“I know you wanna be a good king, and I know that means dedicating your life to your people, you've told me all that.” He rattles it off with an annoyed eye roll, like a reluctant child reciting a lesson to a teacher, and Steve laughs softly, reaching out for another kiss. Eddie grants it gladly. 

“But you will not,” he then continues, and his voice goes stern, “continue working yourself to the ground like that. I won't allow it. You are mine. Everyone else is lucky I don't mind sharing.” 

“Oh yeah?” Steve says, but needs to stop himself when Eddie’s fangs ghost over the hollow of his throat. He quickly disguises his moan as a cough, but it's not much use. The bond shivers with the thrill of his arousal and Eddie grins knowingly. “So what's the plan? You gonna rent me out to my own kingdom?” 

Eddie winks at him, and his tail twitches excitedly.

“Funny you should say that. I was thinking we could split your days in half. As long as it's light, you get to do your politics and your meetings and your paperwork and whatever other boring stuff it is you've been doing. But by night …” He leans down, nipping at the shell of Steve's ear. “By night, you belong to me, and to nobody else. And I’m going to take care of you the way you deserve. How does that sound, beloved?” 

Steve stops mid-moan to pull back and look up at him. 

“You know what? This is so insane it might actually work.” 

“As most of my ideas, my king,” Eddie smiles, turning him so that he can kiss his neck as he slots into him from behind. “And now, enough talk. The night is still young, and you might still manage number five.”