#steddiebingo

[lady-lostmind]

TROUBLE

Written for @steddiebingo Kissing Booth Prompt: Jealousy

Rating: T | WC: 1195 

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

Eddie is ripping his way through a solo at practice, trying to nail the transition between the solo and chorus. He groans in frustration when he misses the same note he has the last three run throughs. “Fuck.”

Gareth tosses his drumstick at him and thumps his bass pedal. “Eddie, come on, man. We’ve been at this for like an hour already.”

Eddie scoffs. “It’s been like twenty minutes, Gare.” He snatches Gareth’s stick up off the ground and throws it back. “Go from the top of the verse again.”

Gareth and the rest of the guys groan and roll their eyes as Gareth counts them in. Eddie focuses hard on making his fingers move the way they need to, nailing the parts of the song he already has down, gets mostly through the solo and– misses the same note. 

“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!” 

Jeff sighs. “Maybe we should table this one for–”

Eddie shakes his head. “No! I’ve almost got it. Just– From the verse again.” 

The guys eye him wearily but start again. Eddie’s sure he’s going to nail it this time. He just has to figure out what he keeps snagging on and he’ll be good. He can do this, he– misses the same damn note again! “FUCKING HELL!” 

Gareth groans behind his drums. “EDDIE! What the hell, man?” 

Doug takes his bass off and goes to head inside. “I need a fucking break, dude.” 

Eddie throws his hands up in defeat. “Great. We just got started!” 

Jeff sets his guitar to the side and shrugs. “Run through it a few times while we grab some snacks.” 

Eddie watches as they all head inside and turns to Steve where he’s been sitting in the corner watching this absolute trainwreck unfold. “I can’t believe them!” 

Steve just shrugs and takes a drag from the joint Eddie rolled for him as payment for agreeing to be his ride today. “Just keep going. You’ll get it.” 

Eddie sighs and cracks his fingers. Okay. He’s got this. He runs through the parts separately a few times, making sure he has the solo figured out. Then he does the whole first part of the song, letting the muscle memory take over on all the parts he already has down. He keeps going, flowing through the solo again, convinced he’s got it this time and– he misses the whole transition. He groans, tugging on his hair in frustration. “Fuck me. This is impossible!” 

Steve sighs and gets up and starts walking over to him, joint still dangling from his lips. 

Eddie stares at him in confusion as he comes up behind him and goes to wrap his arms around Eddie and his guitar. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Steve leans forward and looks at him over his shoulder and talks around the joint in his mouth. “You’re skipping a beat. That’s why you keep getting off.” 

Eddie’s brow scrunches. “What the fuck are you talking ab–”

Steve swats Eddie’s hands out of the way and starts playing through the solo, Eddie’s fucking solo, flawlessly. And Eddie is just standing there like an idiot with his arms held up awkwardly out of the way so Steve can play. Eddie’s mouth drops open in shock and he stares down at Steve’s hands moving effortlessly along the frets. “What the fuck?” 

Steve huffs a laugh in Eddie’s ear, a puff of smoke filling the air around them. Steve gets to the part Eddie keeps fucking up on and slows down, leaning in close. “Right here.” He plays over the spot a few times, showing Eddie the beat he’s absolutely been skipping. “You miss that rest and it throws you off. See?” He plays through it again and goes right into the chorus, no problem. 

Eddie nods dumbly, still just staring at the way Steve’s hands look on his guitar. His brain feels scrambled with this new knowledge. Steve just waltzed over here and dropped the bomb that he can play guitar as good as, if not better than Eddie, by ear, and is acting like it’s no big deal. Like he didn’t just completely rock Eddie’s entire world. Because holy shit this is hot.

Steve is hot. 

Which like, okay. Duh. Obviously he has eyes and knows the guy is objectively attractive. But he has always just been…Steve. His friend. But now…Eddie is blushing. And if he’s being honest, he’s a little hard. Which is mortifying considering Steve’s hand is basically right over his dick. Eddie has never been jealous of an inanimate object before. But fuck if he doesn’t wish he was his guitar right now with Steve’s hands working over it like this. Eddie shakes his head with a laugh and leans back a little, lifting his hands to run his finger through his hair before lacing them behind his head to give Steve easier access. 

Steve runs through the rest of the song before letting go and stepping back. He gives Eddie’s shoulder a little squeeze and plucks the joint out of his mouth so he can flash him a smile. “Try it again–” He flicks the ashes off the joint. “I bet you’ll get it now.” 

Eddie just stares at him with wide eyes as Steve goes and flops back down on the shitty couch in the corner with a cocky grin. “What the fuck, Harrington?” 

Steve takes a drag from his joint and shrugs. “What?”

Eddie scoffs. “What do you mean ‘what?’” 

Steve’s smile stretches wider on his face and he sinks into the couch more. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Since when do you play the fucking guitar?”

Steve shrugs. “Since forever. My mom made me pick an instrument to take lessons on when I was little.”

Eddie scoffs. “And you never thought to mention this before?” 

Steve takes another drag, the smoke billowing out of his mouth as he shakes his head. “No. Why would I?”

Eddie chuckles, his mind still spinning. “Why’d you let me fumble through this shit when you knew what I was doing then?”

Steve shrugs and nods to the guitar. “Play through it again before they get back.” He looks up and locks eyes with him. “Tell them you figured it out.”

And– oh. He waited to show Eddie until they were alone so he could take credit for figuring it out. God damnit. He’s being sweet on top of everything and– 

This is no good. Eddie can feel the sparks of a crush catching fire in his chest, threatening to burn him alive. He clears his throat and nods. “Thanks, man.” 

Eddie shakes his head, trying to focus again. He starts at the beginning of the solo, making sure he pays better attention to counting out the beats and– nails it. He flies right through and into the chorus. 

He lets out a satisfied sigh, a smile pulling at his cheeks as he looks back up at Steve who is beaming with pride as he starts clapping. “Knew you could do it, Eds.” 

A blush rises on Eddie’s cheeks and he nods, trying to shove the swell in his heart down before it gets him into trouble. “Thanks.” 

[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.

[fkinkindagauche]

Somebody Has to Arrange the Matches

This is a prompt fill for @steddiebingo Round One, prompt "Dustin Henderson". Full fic on AO3.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 5,398 | CW: None | Tags: Dustin Henderson parent trap, gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington speed runs his sexuality crisis, first kiss, mutual pining, friends to lovers, frottage

Summary: Dustin is adamant that Eddie Munson deserves to find love, after all he's been through. Once Dustin figures out some things about Eddie, he gets to work making it happen.

divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie was being cagey again.

It had become Dustin's personal mission now that Eddie was out of the hospital to get the man a girlfriend. As far as Dustin could tell from his probing questions to the Corroded Coffin guys, Eddie had never had a girlfriend, which was honestly shocking to Dustin. Sure, Eddie could be pretty over the top, but everyone liked him. And it wasn't like he was ugly. So he must just be too shy or something. Dustin wanted to help.

Dustin currently had him cornered in Gareth's garage, away from the rest of the group. They'd just finished a D&D session at Gareth's house, with a Corroded Coffin practice scheduled after. Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will were waiting for Steve to pick them up before the practice started. Dustin was doing his utmost to get Eddie to go out with one of Robin's band geek friends, but Eddie was resisting all of his attempts.

"Henderson, no." Eddie sounded exactly like Steve did after Dustin had asked for a ride about ten times, trying to get a no to magically change to a yes. "I'm not going to ask Veronica out."

"Why not?" Dustin asked, voice raised. "She's a huge nerd, she flirts with you, like, non-stop, and she's hot."

Eddie sighed. "I'm just not into her."

Dustin groaned, tugging his hands through his hair in frustration. "Are you into anyone? Every time I bring someone up, you shoot the option down."

"Well, I don't like your options, bud. They're not good options."

"That's objectively false!" Dustin yelled. "Most guys would kill for some of the options I've presented!" Why did Eddie have to be like this?

"How can it be objectively false?" Eddie shot back. "It's literally my opinion. The definition of subjective."

Dustin glared at him. He hated when Eddie tried to outsmart him. He hated how often it worked. Steve drove up just as Dustin was opening his mouth for a rebuttal.

"Thank the fucking Lord," Eddie muttered. "Please take this young whippersnapper off of my hands before I kill him," Eddie yelled to Steve when he got out of his car.

"Oh, great," Steve said. "Can't wait to spend the next 15 minutes with a feisty Henderson in my car."

God, they were both such turds sometimes. Dustin sighed loudly and stomped over to Steve's car. "This isn't over, Munson!" he called over his shoulder. Eddie flipped him off in response.

He grabbed the passenger seat before Mike, Lucas, or Will even made it to the car, much to their chagrin. Steve chatted with Eddie for a few moments, Eddie leaning into his space as per usual, slinging an arm over Steve's shoulder.

Dustin leaned over and honked the horn.

"Really, Dustin?" Steve yelled, hands on his hips.

"Some of us have places to be!" Dustin yelled back.

"Where do you have to be?" Lucas asked from the backseat.

Dustin shrugged. "It's the principle of the thing."

Steve spent a few more moments talking to Eddie, probably just to piss Dustin off, then came back to the car.

Dustin gave Steve 30 seconds to adjust, watching the time tick by on his watch. He'd been told off one too many times for immediately starting an interrogation, so this was his compromise with the world. As soon as his watch hit the 30 second mark, he started in.

"So why doesn't Eddie ever date anyone?" Dustin asked, talking over whatever conversation Mike and Will had been having in the back.

Steve glanced at Dustin with a confused expression on his face. "What?"

"From the intel I've gathered, Eddie's never had a girlfriend," Dustin said. "He turns down all of my suggestions for potential dates. But if anyone deserves a girlfriend, it's him. He's, like, a hero. I want to help him find his Suzie."

"Excuse me, what am I? Chopped liver?" Steve interjected. "Why aren't you trying to find me a girlfriend?"

Dustin rolled his eyes. "You've had a million girlfriends, Steve. Give some of the other poor dudes a chance."

"Yeah, Steve. You're kind of hogging the eligible young women of Hawkins," Mike piped up from the back seat.

"I haven't had a girlfriend since Nancy," Steve protested.

"But you do still get around," Dustin insisted.

"Whatever, man." Steve shook his head. "Why don't you let Eddie do his own thing? Maybe he's just picky."

Dustin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, not responding. Steve was wrong. Eddie deserved his own Suzie. And Dustin wasn't going to give up on helping him find her.

"So I saw this girl the other day at the arcade," Dustin started. He and Eddie were at the trailer, painting some miniatures. It was his mom's night working late, and Dustin had started spending it with either Eddie or Steve on alternating weeks.

Eddie groaned. "Not again, Henderson. Can't we go, like, one day without this shit?"

"But Eddie! I think you'd really like her. She had a mohawk. Dyed pink. And her nose was pierced."

Eddie dropped his head into his hands, smearing some red paint on his cheek. He stayed that way for a few moments, quieter for much longer than usual. Dustin worried for a moment that he might have broken him. When Eddie finally looked up, his face was serious in a way it almost never was. He reached out for Dustin's hand.

"Dustin. I'm about to tell you something, and you cannot freak out about it. And you can't tell anyone else about it, either. Am I clear?" Usually, Dustin would have thought a joke was coming after an intro like that from Eddie. But he seemed completely earnest this time, so Dustin actually considered what he'd asked.

"What about Suzie?" Dustin asked. "Can I tell Suzie?"

Eddie sighed. "Yeah, you can tell Suzie."

"Alright," Dustin said. "I agree to your terms. No freak out, no telling anyone other than Suzie."

Eddie nodded. "Okay." He took a deep breath and looked away. "I'm gay, Dustin."

It took Dustin a second for his brain to parse what he'd just heard. Eddie. Heavy metal band member, dungeon master Eddie.

"I'm sorry, you're what?" Dustin squeaked. He must have misheard.

"I'm gay," Eddie repeated. "Queer, fruity, a homo, a friend of Dorothy, a fairy. I like men. That's why none of your options have sounded remotely appealing to me. That's why I've never had a girlfriend."

Dustin sat back in his chair, stunned. A lot of things were making sense now.

"Oooookay," Dustin said, nodding. So now he had to find Eddie a boyfriend. More difficult, but he liked a challenge. "So what's your type? We can find you a boyfriend."

Eddie barked out a laugh, throwing his head back. He looked relieved. "Are you serious? That's your only question, what's my type?"

"Of course that's not my only question, who do you think I am?" Dustin was a little offended. "That's just my most pressing question."

"I think this is the best response I've gotten so far to coming out," Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

Dustin felt pretty good about that. "Well? Are you gonna answer?"

Eddie chuckled. "I should've known this wouldn't make you give up your weird crusade." He pulled a few strands of hair in front of his mouth, chewing on the ends while he thought. "My type? I'm not totally sure, honestly, haven't had much of a chance to find out, living in Hawkins. I guess probably my height or maybe shorter, but not much taller. On the masculine side of things, almost the jock physique. Hairy. Brunette."

Dustin nodded after each characteristic, mentally taking note. "Those are all physical things. What about personality?"

Eddie had to think a little harder about that one, looking into the distance. "Um. Kinda goofy, I guess? Not too macho. Sense of humor." Eddie trailed off and looked at Dustin sharply. "Henderson, if you go around asking the men of Hawkins if they're queer so you can try to find a date for me, you're gonna get beat to shit."

Dustin held up his hands. "You really think I'm that stupid? Give me some credit here, Eddie."

"You have a track record of failing to read the room, man," Eddie pointed out.

That absolutely wasn't true. Dustin was very tactful. He could be quite subtle when he wanted to be. Eddie just never got to see that side of him.

"I'll be careful," Dustin insisted. "I'm not gonna ask anyone if they're gay."

"Alright," Eddie said, but he didn't look convinced. Dustin would show him.

The idea hit Dustin the next week, when he was spending his mom's late work night with Steve. They were out by the pool, and Steve's hairy chest was on full display, with all of its muscles. Dustin had Suzie, and she didn't want him to be muscular, but sometimes when he saw Steve's chest he couldn't deny the twinge of jealously.

Hairy. Muscular jock physique. Something was tickling at the back of Dustin's mind. Brunette. What was that? About as tall as Eddie.

Oh shit. Dustin dropped his Dr. Pepper as Steve yelled "COWABUNGA" and did a cannonball into the water. Kinda goofy.

It was Steve. Eddie had basically been describing Steve. Did Eddie even know? Had he been secretly pining after Steve this whole time? Or was it still subconscious?

Holy shit. But Steve liked girls. How was Dustin gonna make this work? Did he need to find a Steve doppelganger somewhere who was gay?

Steve popped out of the water, shaking his hair. He looked up at Dustin and the Dr. Pepper spilled all over the patio. "Everything alright there?" Steve asked. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Dustin nodded. "I- I'm good. Everything's fine!"

Steve shrugged and dove back under the water.

Dustin did some research over the next few days. If he was going to find a gay Steve doppelganger for Eddie, he needed to understand the culture - where he could find other queer people, the types of phrases they used to identify each other without being too blatant, that kind of stuff.

He tried finding books at the library, but came up empty-handed and probably on some sort of list the librarian kept of degenerates. So he had to resort to asking Eddie where he got all his information.

"Why do you wanna know?" Eddie asked with a suspicious glare.

"I just wanna understand you, man!" Dustin insisted, putting on his most innocent expression. "You're my friend, I wanna know what's going on with you."

Eddie reluctantly handed Dustin some zines he'd picked up in Indianapolis. "None of the raunchy stuff," Eddie said. "I'm not getting arrested for dealing gay pornography to minors."

Dustin made a disgusted face. "You could have just… not told me you even had raunchy stuff."

Eddie shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?"

Dustin spent hours that night poring over the zines, learning the lingo. He discovered an incredibly interesting fact in one of the zines - the existence of bisexuality. You could like both men and women. You didn't have to be either gay or straight.

This fact blew Dustin's mind, and the seeds of a different plan took root. What if Steve was bisexual, and he didn't even know it? That would be the easiest, most logical solution to the Eddie problem. Steve was Eddie's type; so what if Eddie was also Steve's type?

He talked about it with Suzie the following evening. She'd been shocked to learn that Eddie was gay. Mormons weren't exactly accepting of homosexuality. But she'd always played a little fast and loose with certain aspects of Mormonism, so Dustin was able to bring her around to the idea eventually.

"I don't know, Dusty Buns," she said as they were discussing his idea about Steve. "I don't think you can just make someone be bisexual."

"I'm not gonna make him be bisexual," Dustin insisted. "I'm just gonna try to show him that he already is."

"But what if he isn't?" she shot back.

"Then I'll go back to the doppelganger plan," he said with a sigh. "But I have to try. This is the simplest solution. Occam's razor."

"Dusty Buns, you know you're not using that correctly right now," Suzie scolded.

Dustin sighed. She never let him get away with anything.

Dustin paid a lot more attention to Steve and Eddie's interactions over the next few weeks. Now that he knew Eddie was gay, he couldn't believe he'd missed the signs pointing to his crush on Steve.

Eddie gravitated to Steve like a moth to a flame. It was like he had some sort of Steve-related sixth sense, his head immediately turning toward Steve whenever the man walked into a room.

He was a tactile guy with everyone, but whenever Steve was around, it was always Steve that Eddie was touching. Every time Dustin looked at the two of them, Eddie had a hand somewhere on Steve - slung around his shoulders, resting on one of his arms, brushing against one of his legs to get his attention.

Steve didn't seem to mind at all. He leaned into the physical contact, touching Eddie back almost as often as he was touched. They smiled at each other all the time. They got each other drinks and snacks and just in general acted like a goddamn couple. How had Dustin missed this?

He was gonna need to accelerate his timeline. These idiots needed to get together ASAP.

Read the rest of the fic on AO3.

[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.

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[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:

[alicetallula]

Steddie Bingo 2025 - C5 - Secret Admirer + Steddie Bingo 2025 Kissing Booth Mini Event - A1 - Secret Admirer - 'This love of mine, my Valentine' - 05.02.2025

Here's my second drawing for the Steddie Bingo and my first drawing for the @steddiebingo's Kissing Booth Mini Event 😊💕

Steddie Bingo 2025 : A1 - BMW / A2 - Edging / A3 - Historical AU / A4 - Dirty Talk / A5 - High // B1 - Corroded Coffin / B2 - Joyce Byers / B3 - Nailbat / B4 - Mpreg / B5 - Max Mayfield // C1 - Walkie Talkie / C2 - Military AU / C3 - Free Space / C4 - Ghost AU // D1 - Humor / D2 - Sci Fi / D3 - Neighbors / D4 - Handjobs / D5 - Enemies To Lovers // E1 - Punk AU / E2 - Wayne Munson / E3 - Cock Warming / E4 - Bottom!Steve / E5 - Monster AU

Steddie Bingo 2025 - Kissing Booth Mini Event : B1 - Phone Sex // C1 - Goodbyes // D1 - Frottage // E1 - Intimate // F1 - Red // G1 - Lingerie

'This love of mine, my Valentine' - 05.02.2025

Just our favorite dorks being each other's secret admirers 😊

The title is from My Valentine by Paul McCartney 💕

Done using alcohol markers, ink pens, colored pencils, gel pens, acrylic paint pens and Photoshop for the title, heart effects and the hearts on both cards

AO3 post 1 / AO3 post 2 / Bluesky post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

Done using alcohol markers, ink pens, colored pencils, gel pens, acrylic paint pens and Photoshop for heart effects and the hearts on both cards

AO3 post 1 / AO3 post 2 / Bluesky post / DeviantArt post / Instagram post / Pillowfort post / Twitter post

[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.

[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]

GIVE A SHIT

Written for @steddiebingo Kissing Booth Prompt: Dress Up

Rating: T | WC: 631

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

“This is stupid, Buckley. I look like an idiot. This is never going to work.” Eddie’s face scrunches in disgust as he stares in the mirror, tugging at the secondhand suit jacket Robin shoved onto his shoulders. 

Robin rolls her eyes, “You always look like an idiot.” She pulls Eddie to face her and wraps a tie around his neck. “You guys have been dancing around each other for too long. It’s getting ridiculous.”

Eddie scoffs. “And you think this–” He gestures to himself in his best, non-ripped black jeans, black dress shirt, and the stupid fucking jacket. “Is the solution?”

Robin glares at him while she ties the tie. “No. I think you getting your head out of your ass and actually making a move is the solution.” 

“And this is the move? Dressing like some yuppie in a suit!?” 

Robin flicks him on the forehead, grinning meanly when he yelps and rubs the sore spot. “I think actually making an effort and showing Steve you actually give a shit, is the move.” 

Eddie’s face drops. “Is that what he thinks? That I don’t give a shit?” 

Robin sighs and she smoothes out his tie. “Steve doesn’t think anyone gives a shit about him.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Even I have to constantly remind him or he gets all in his head about it and pulls away.” 

Eddie shakes his head, looking down at his ridiculous outfit with a sigh. “Do I buy him flowers?”

He glances back up and sees Robin smiling widely. “I think that’s a great idea.” 

Eddie shows up at Steve’s house with a bouquet of roses, and a baggie of weed, feeling ridiculous as he knocks on the door. He wants to be with Steve. And Robin is right. They’ve been dancing around this for close to a year. But he doesn’t know how to do this. He’s not– He’s never really had a relationship. He’s never really cared that much. He’s never–

Steve opens the door, eyes going wide when he sees Eddie. “Eds, what–”

“I give a shit.” Great. Really solid start, Eddie.

Steve’s brow furrows. “Okay–”

Eddie sighs, pushing past Steve and pushing the flowers to his chest. “These are for you.”

Steve’s eyes go all sparkly as he looks down at the flowers in his hand, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Eddie starts pacing. “I’m not good at this, okay? I know I’ve probably been fucking this up, majorly, and I’m sorry about that. And I know you deserve better than a trailer trash freak but–”

Steve’s face goes soft. “Eds–”

Eddie shakes his head. “I know, I know. But please, just hear me out, okay? Robin said I have a shot. And I figure she knows. And I know this–” He gestures to himself and the flowers. “Is all a little cheesy and over the top but I do give a shit. About you. I give a lot of shits about you. All the shits, honestly and–”

Steve takes a step forward. “Eds–”

Eddie shakes his head holding his hands out in front of him. “I know I’m probably not what you imagined for your life. I know this is–” He sighs. “I just want you to be happy. And I think that maybe– Maybe I can make you happy. If you give me a chance.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest with a sigh and Eddie’s heart sinks. “Are you done?”

Eddie stops pacing in front of him, his body slumping in defeat. He knew this was a bad idea. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Steve smiles, wide and cocky as he strides forward. “Good.” He cups Eddie’s jaw and leans in close. “Because I’m going to kiss you now.”

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiebingo.

Novel Movements

Countdown to Midnight Prompt: Eddie Munson | Word Count: 2684 | Rating: T | CW: Medical Emergency (Not Steddie), Language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Gym AU, Modern AU, One-Sided Enemies to Lovers, Misconceived Notions, Platonic Stobin, Steve's Flirting, But Eddie Doesn't Know That, Oblivious Eddie Munson

"Eddie Munson."

His name is said with such sarcasm that Eddie turns his head to look.

Of course.

Just what he needed today.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie mimics in the same mocking tone. He doesn't know very many names in this place, but Steve Harrington has made sure Eddie knew his, even if it was totally against Eddie's will.

Now, Steve's standing there, grinning at him.

He's not going to put up with him. Not today. 

Eddie hates this dude more than anyone else at the gym. And there are lots of gym bros here to choose to loathe. He honestly barely knows him. But Steve Harrington is always prancing around in his little shorts, with his hair stretching towards the sky, like he's not preparing to teach a workout. Eddie isn't even sure what class he teaches. All Eddie knows is that he never seems to work up a sweat during them, as far as he's ever seen.

If he's not standing around taunting Eddie, he's leaning over the front desk, harassing Robin. She's a lesbian, Eddie is sure of it, and if Steve Harrington can't see that and know to leave her alone, he needs his eyes checked. He's always just a step too close to her, and about two steps too close to Eddie.

It's frustrating, infuriating, and Eddie hates him.

He might not sign a second contract with this place. He was asked, as a favor, to take over some classes short-term, and he's enjoyed the extra cash. But it clearly comes with a cost. 

He's gonna kill Gareth for assuring him this was a cool place to work. It's not cool. Well, it's cool. Except for Steve Harrington.

There were more than enough Steve Harringtons in his high school that he doesn't need to work alongside any more of them now.

Eddie looks away, and watches as his own kickboxing students filter in. When he was younger he needed an outlet for his teenage rage, Wayne signed him up for a kickboxing class at the local gym. At first, he hated the idea. Exercise? A sport? No fucking thanks. But he gave it a try. For Wayne. 

It was just him and some weird older dude that really preferred karate in that first class, but Eddie quickly learned to love it. The release. The pounding of his heart. How the stress would seemingly just melt away, one kick, one elbow, at a time. How the resistance, heavy and thick, would ground him. 

It was a good idea. But Wayne's ideas usually are, Eddie damn well knows that. 

And now, years later, he's the one teaching the classes to help others maybe find their love of it, too. Eddie's no sports guy. Not at all. Kickboxing is his main form of exercise. Sure, he'll use the rest of the gym every so often, since it's a perk of working here, but overall, this is his only thing. 

Nothing else has ever appealed to him in this same way. 

Steve saunters down the catwalk, the sun reflecting through the huge pane glass windows, illuminating him as he's bouncing with every step. The motherfucker always gives off main character energy, and that's true today as he glows while Eddie watches him go.

He'd much rather see him going, then coming, that's for fucking sure. He's too goddamn chipper.  

Eddie's already soaked, hair clinging to his neck, so he just as well run for a bit. It's not his favorite thing, not by a long shot, but it's necessary evil sometimes. 

The wall of treadmills is blissfully empty, and he picks one, and gets to work. Feet hitting, over and over, as he counts down the time he needs to spend on this thing. He doesn't enjoy it, but he'll do it. Occasionally.

Then he catches movement beside him.

Jesus H. Christ. 

The place is a ghost town and Steve Harrington still feels the need to set up camp right next to him. 

Eddie ignores him. Pretends he doesn't even realize he's got unwanted company, and pounds along the belt. Eddie can see him in the mirror though, unfortunately, and Steve smiles. He looks graceful while running, of course he does, especially compared to Eddie's heavy stride. 

When Eddie's cooldown begins, Eddie's grateful. He's ready to hit the showers and get the hell out of here.

Steve's still running, like it's easy as can be, even after Eddie's showered and dressed, bag slung over his shoulder. 

He's gotta get home. Tomorrow is his early class day. He's not a morning person, but he conceded to having at least one class a week before nine.

Eddie rolls in, coffee cup in hand. He hears the commotion, the frantic buzz of something is happening echoing through the open gym, bouncing down the catwalk, from room to room, like it's seeking help it just can't quite find.

"Okay, everybody, give me a second. Get a drink, stretch, I'll be back and we'll get started then," Eddie says, telling his class. They are all huddled in groups discussing what might be going on. 

He jogs down the catwalk, then peeks into every class on the other side of the split structure as he passes by, looking for the right one. Most of them are empty. When he turns the corner, he sees a crowd gathered at the end of the hall, and jogs that way. Someone's on the phone with 911, thankfully, because inside Steve Harrington is performing CPR on an older man, while everybody is just standing around watching. 

Eddie ushers them away from the door, and then starts gathering up the rest of the class Steve was teaching. A room filled with senior citizens, all in their matching sweatsuits and white New Balance shoes. Standing around, looking lost.

He's not sure where to move them. He could just send them home, but thinks they need time to unwind, process what they've witnessed, and maybe that's better done here than off somewhere else, possibly alone. He sees Gareth down the hall, and snaps his fingers, waving him over, getting Gareth to take all of the now shaken students to his classroom. No, they probably aren't gonna join in on his cardio drumming class, though Eddie knows he's offered one for seniors in the past.

Then Eddie runs back in, and it's just Steve Harrington, working his ass off on this poor guy.

Eddie counts for him, like he's been trained. 1, 2, 3, over and over and Steve follows the beat of Eddie's cadence until he looks worn out.

He's sweating now. Bangs clinging damp and limp to his forehead, and Eddie hates it. It looks unnatural.

"We'll switch, in 3, 2, 1," Eddie says, and Steve lifts his hands and Eddie takes over. 

"I got…I started, fast. I think, I think, maybe," Steve breathes out in short bursts, clearly exhausted. Out of breath and shaken.

Then, Steve counts for him, while Eddie listens for sirens.

It doesn't take long before he hears them, screaming up the road, and they switch off again as Eddie runs to the main stairs to guide them in. 

The professionals take over, and Eddie stands next to Steve, watching as they shock the guy back into a normal rhythm. Maybe they did it. Maybe Steve did it. Time is the most important thing, and Steve started right away. There's a chance.

Steve gave him a chance.

Hopefully, the guy will be okay.

Hopefully, Steve will be okay.

After they wheel him out, Steve looks around, "My class."

"They're fine. Gareth's got 'em. Probably turning them into the next Ringo's as we speak."

Steve cracks a grin, but it's small, and not all there.

"C'mon," Eddie says, "you can watch me teach my beginner class, if you want, and then we'll go get something to eat. You look like you need it."

After checking in with his class first, Steve agrees, and that's how Steve Harrington, enemy number one, ends up sitting on a fitness ball, watching Eddie prepare to teach his kickboxing for beginners class.

There's an empty bag, and Steve nods towards it when Eddie circles past, "Can I?"

Eddie grins, "You want to?"

Steve nods, and Eddie nods back, helping him get set up. 

He's a natural, Eddie thinks, as he helps him make small adjustments, and then just lets him follow along. 

Maybe he's never done any kickboxing before, but he's clearly athletic. He follows Eddie's instructions well, is very flexible, and definitely not afraid to get to work. For a beginner his kicks are high, strong and confident. He's comfortable behind the bag, as he seems to be getting all his frustrations from the day out on the bag. Good. That's what he's supposed to do in here.

When the hour is up, he's dripping sweat, exhausted.

Steve's wiping his brow with the tail of his shirt, letting Eddie get a glimpse of his hairy belly. Not the right time, not the right person, Eddie has to remind himself. 

"Still want that breakfast?" Eddie asks.

"Hell, yes. I'm starving. That was a workout."

Eddie laughs, and follows him down the stairs and towards the locker room. 

They both shower, and today Eddie's not annoyed that he's in the stall next to him, not like he was on the treadmill. 

It's funny how a moment or two can change your whole perspective that you just assumed was set in stone.

They pass the front desk, scanning their keycards to sign out, and Robin stands, looking at Steve, clearly concerned. She's fidgeting, worrying her hands. 

"Are you okay? Chrissy said–"

"I'm good," he says, interrupting, reassuring her, and Eddie watches them interact. She comes around the desk and throws her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. 

He hugs her back, "Thanks, Rob. I needed that."

"You sure you're okay? Do you want me to find someone to cover–"

"Eddie's taking me to breakfast," Steve says, and Eddie does not miss the little widening her eyes do before she schools her face back to neutral. 

"Well, that's nice of you, Eddie," she says, and Eddie realizes he's been very, very wrong about whatever their dynamic is. She adores him, obviously. 

They hit the sidewalk, "So, Robin. Is she your…"

"Best friend. She's my best friend."

Eddie nods. That checks out. Steve was annoying her, but on purpose, mutually agreed upon nuisances, without a doubt.

They're best friends. He wasn't trying to pick her up against her will.

That's interesting.

Very interesting.

"Functional fitness," Steve says, sitting across from Eddie in the booth at the diner down the street from the gym, "it's for anybody, but I mainly teach seniors. It helps keep them mobile longer, and that makes me feel like I'm making a difference, you know?"

Eddie didn't know. Eddie had no idea what Steve was doing across the building, and had clearly assumed the worst, instead of the best of him.

He was wrong about Steve Harrington, he's pretty sure.

Steve keeps talking, "It helps them with everyday tasks, you know? Push, pull, carry. That kind of thing. So, I'll get younger participants that are rehabbing injuries, or that have chronic illnesses. But it mainly skews older, for sure. I never expected one of them to go down. I don't have them do novel movements over their hearts or anything, I swear."

Eddie nods. He's not sure what a novel movement is, not really.

"What a novel movement?" he asks.

"Well," Steve says, "it's like, something that you don't do everyday. A change. Shoveling snow. Shoveling snow is a novel movement, and that's why so many people unexpectedly die doing it."

Steve makes the motion for slinging a shovel full of snow over his shoulder, "So, like, I'm not making them do things like that."

"No shoveling snow in the gym, got it," Eddie says, teasing him a little, and Steve chuckles.

"You know what I mean," Steve says.

"I do," Eddie agrees. 

"I've never had that happen before," Steve then says quietly.

"And hopefully never again," Eddie comments. "It's not your fault. It's probably lucky for him he was with you. Best possible outcome if it had to happen."

Steve runs both of his hands down his face.

"Maybe."

Steve Harrington really isn't so bad, he supposes. He clearly cares a whole lot about what happened today.

The server puts down their plates, and they eat in silence, but it isn't uncomfortable.

Then Steve speaks again, "Thanks for helping, I was surprised to see you."

"Why?"

"You always seem so annoyed when I try to chat you up," Steve says.

Eddie can't really deny it. He has been annoyed. 

Wait.

Wait.

Was Steve trying to chat him up, chat him up? Like, flirting? Eddie wasn't reading flirting from him, that's for damn sure. 

Maybe he needs to pay better attention. That's been a common theme in his life, but usually about school, not attractive men that may or may not be interested in him.

"My bark is worse than my bite," Eddie settles on, and offers him a smile.

Steve laughs, his mood finally lifting, just a little, "Well, I hope not."

Holy shit. 

Eddie is such a goddamn idiot.

He's being flirted with. He's been being flirted with, for all the time he's known Steve Harrington.

Steve sits there for a minute, stirring his drink with his straw, knocking the ice around, "Do you think any of them will show up again?"

It takes Eddie a minute to parse his meaning, "Your class? Of course they will."

Steve rolls his shoulders in a non-convinced way.

"Steve. They know how old they are. You didn't do anything wrong."

Eddie doesn't know that. Not for sure. But he believes it to be true. He's just not sure how to prove it to him. Steve clearly cares too much to have done anything risky. 

Instead, Eddie asks, "When's your next class?" 

"Tomorrow."

"For the same people?"

"Some of them. Not everybody comes everyday."

"But some do?" Eddie asks.

"Some do," he confirms. "Usually, anyway. I have regulars. Vincent was a regular."

"Well," Eddie says, "I'll come. Then we'll know at least one person will be there. You took my class, so I should take yours. It's only fair."

Steve laughs, "It's not gonna be nearly as exciting as kickboxing."

Well, Steve's gonna be there. So, that sounds pretty exciting to Eddie.

The next day the class is as full as ever, Eddie suspects. And they're all kind to Steve, patting him on the back for saving their fellow classmate. He's stable in the ICU, and things are looking positive. Steve did good. He did real good.

The only discourse is a few of them trying to figure out how they're going to figure out the scheduling to take both Steve's functional fitness class and Gareth's cardio drumming. Eddie's pretty sure the kid is gonna have to add a senior class to his schedule again now that everyone got a preview of something they may have never tried on their own.

Eddie sidles up to their conversation, "I know Gareth. I'll make sure he schedules it so you can do both."

And just like that, he's won them over as well.

Steve gets started, and Eddie follows along with the routine Steve's leading. There are chairs for some of the less stable to hang onto, when needed, and it's just a thoughtful experience, honestly. Steve's kind, and funny, and they very clearly adore him.

He might not break a sweat, but he's really doing something special here. 

Eddie really hopes he'll get to tell him that later, over dinner, or drinks. Anything he wants, as long as Eddie can make up for lost time and for being a judgmental asshole for no good reason.

Steve grins, and Eddie smiles back as they get in place for the next rep in the set.  

Now, Eddie is certain that he wants to get outside of his comfort zone, outside of the box, when it comes to Steve Harrington.

Novel movements, indeed.

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 didn't know where this was going, but I knew I wanted to use "Eddie Munson" the prompt as his name being said by Steve. So I got as far as, "Eddie hates this dude more than anyone else at the _."

Where? Where are they? I wondered if I could find a randomizer for jobs, and just...see if that would produce an idea. I did, right here, and spun the wheel and got "personal trainer" which isn't exactly where this led, but it got them in the gym, and the rest of the story fleshed itself out from there.

[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."

[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]

Some sort of hive mind thing

Written for the Kissing Booth bonus card of the @steddiebingo

Prompt: Body Swap

Rated: T

Words: 975

Tags: POV Dustin Henderson; Body swap; Secret relationship; Coming out; Implied sexual content (very brief, very vague); Crack and humor

“Okay, the others are on their way.” 

Dustin puts the walkie back on his bedside table. The alarm clock tells him it's a little after four in the morning. When he tries to tug on his hat to ground himself, he realizes he isn't wearing one because he's still in his pajamas. Biting back a yawn, he snatches his Thinking Cap from its hook on the wall and puts it on. He feels like he's going to need it. 

“While we wait, walk me through this again,” he says, turning back to the two miserable figures sitting side by side on his bed. “Steve?” 

“Yeah?” says Eddie. 

Dustin blinks. He can practically feel his brain whirring in his skull as it recalibrates. Sweet mother of all that's logical, this must be the fourth-most bizarre thing that ever happened to him. 

“Oh, wait,” says Steve. “If you say Steve shouldn’t I answer? Wouldn't want half the town to find out about this. I've barely even shaken the satanist allegations. Better not add body snatching to the list.” 

“The fuck?” Eddie hisses. “First you steal my body and now you're taking my name, too?” 

Steve grins, wide and toothy, fluttering his lashes exaggeratedly. “Let's table the discussion about who's taking whose name for later, big boy. We've more important stuff to figure out right now.” 

Okay, make that the third-most bizarre thing. 

“You both went to bed as usual,” Dustin says over the ensuing string of bickering, wondering not for the first time who's babysitting who here. “Then, a few hours later, you woke up to discover that you're stuck in each other's bodies.” 

Eddie-who-looks-like-Steve snorts a laugh and Steve-who-looks-like-Eddie elbows him.

“Quit it! Be serious about this!” 

“I’m trying to, but he said stuck in-” 

“Did anything happen last night?” Dustin asks. 

They both flinch. Eddie attempts to pull a lock of hair in front of his face but grasps at thin air. 

“Did anything- … I have no idea what you- … Nothing happened! Nothing at all!”

Dustin raises an eyebrow at him. Eddie starts chewing on Steve’s knuckles.

“Really? You sure? Nothing strange or out of the ordinary? I need you to think real hard about this, it could be important.” 

Steve shrugs, raking a hand through Eddie’s hair and frowning when his fingers get stuck in the frizzy mess. “Dunno, man. Our life's pretty much an endless string of freak incidents, so it's kind of hard to say what qualifies as- Gross, dude, stop chewing on my nails.” 

“It helps with my anxiety, and you have mine,” Eddie grumbles, but he still stops chewing. 

“Which is why it's crucial,” Dustin shoulders on, “to look for patterns. There must've been something that caused this, and there must be a reason why it happened to the two of you. Oh, you think it has to do with the bats? You're the only ones who got bitten, so maybe that's the connection. Maybe it's some sort of hive mind thing.” 

He has started pacing up and down in front of the bed, but at the corner of his vision, he can see how Steve squints Eddie’s dark brown eyes at him. 

“But that was months ago,” he says. He’s still wearing Eddie’s rings, Dustin notices. Eddie has pulled their hands into his lap and started fiddling with them, muttering something about how they won't fit Steve’s stupid, giant saucer hands. “Why would it happen now?” 

Dustin snaps his fingers. “Something must've triggered it. There must've been some kind of dormant connection the entire time, and one or both of you must've done something to activate it.” 

He stops pacing and turns to them, only to find they’re not looking at him anymore. Instead, they’ve ducked their heads together and started muttering among themselves in hushed voices. Dustin catches the words oughta tell him, and wrinkles his brow. 

“Tell me what?”

“Okay!” Steve screws Eddie’s eyes shut and pinches Eddie’s nose. “You know how you asked me to drive you to the arcade last night?”

“And you told me no because you had this big, important date?” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Sure. What about it?”

“And how you called me after?” Eddie says. He has started pulling on the ends of Steve’s hair now, and it seems to be getting frizzier by the second. It looks a bit like regular Steve put his fingers in a socket. “And I said I’d love to chauffeur you, but I couldn’t because I had already made plans?”

“Yes,” Dustin deadpans. “You were both completely and utterly unhelpful and I had to cycle all the way there in the dark and the wind, thank you for reminding me. Now what does this have to do with any-”

“Dustin,” says Steve. He looks at Eddie, then down at their entwined hands. Pointedly. Dustin feels his jaw drop. 

“Oh,” he says. “You mean you were- … You both couldn’t make it because you were each other’s- … Oh! Oh my God, please don’t tell me- … Were you two making out?” 

Silence drops. Somewhere outside, bicycle tires crunch on gravel, heralding the arrival of the Party. 

“Sure,” says Eddie. “Let’s call it making out.”

Dustin groans, turning to open his window. 

“Let’s try to keep this between the three of us,” he hisses. “The others don’t need to know this.”

“What?” Steve grumbles. He’s always blushed easily, but now, with his newly acquired pale complexion, he looks like an Eddie-shaped lava lamp. “These kids have dealt with interdimensional monsters and telepathic wizards, you’d think they’d be able to stomach two guys kissing.”

“That’s not it,” Dustin says, and now it’s his turn to break into a smug grin. “But Max bet me twenty bucks you wouldn’t last until Christmas, and I'm broke, so I'd appreciate it if she wouldn't find out just yet.” 

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