#white knight steve harrington

[ladykailitha]

Murder in the Heartland Part 1

Here it is, the most wonderfully insane idea I've ever come up with and I've had some whoppers (Steve in a mental institution and Vecna's Timeloop from Hell for example). This is still the wildest. Only that's a twist that's coming up way down the line. My wonderful discord peeps @forgottenkanji, @dreamercec, @bookworm0690 know all, but you'd have to join my discord to be in on the secret (there are other lurkers there who might know, but they might not *shrug*).

Summary: When a serial killer strikes Hawkins, the police zero in on Eddie Munson. But when the last would-be victim Robin Buckley says that it Jason Carver who was trying to kill her and not Eddie, the police are further put in their place by an anonymous tipper who did all the work they should have done instead of going after clearly innocent Eddie. So Eddie becomes a PI to find this anonymous tipper. Featuring Mystery Writer Steve, who will play into the later plot. ;)

You will see snippets of Steve as the story goes on, but it will be Eddie's story for about 2/3 of it. It is also set in canon time for reasons that will become clear as the story goes on.

~

Interviewer: I’m here with Steve Harrington who has put just put out his seven novel in the thrilling Joe Keery books, ‘The Hollow Promise’. How are you this morning?

Steve chuckled: I’m tired. I’m a writer, I spend all my nights writing and my days sleeping, so this is a little outside my normal waking hours.

Interviewer: Gosh I wish I could do that, but I chose to have a morning talk show instead. Won’t you tell the listeners about your latest book.”

Steve: It’s about a series of murders in a small town and our hero comes to town to investigate and finds a bigger mystery than he anticipated.

~

Eddie’s life went to hell the day Steve Harrington blew town. Not that he would find that out until years later. But then again people were more preoccupied with Robin Buckley swearing up and down that Jason Carver who had been trying to kill her and not Eddie than remember a kid being thrown out of his parents place for being gay so... yeah.

Well, okay, so his life had been hell a little bit before Steve blew town. But that wasn’t as interesting an opening as the day Steve blew town. So he still had a flare for the dramatic, sue him. After all it was that flare that made him become a private investigator in the first place.

When Chrissy Cunningham had been murdered just after Eddie dealt her Special K, that made him the prime suspect in her death.

Which, rude.

She had been dealing with some pretty fucked up shit. Like being queer in a small town levels of shit on top of her mom being constantly on about her weight and her boyfriend pressuring her wear a promise ring. In high school.

Then another student died. A boy on the basketball team, Patrick McKinney, who someone else claimed had bought steroids off Eddie. Which couldn’t have been true, not if it was performance enhancing drugs. He had offered to sell them to high schoolers when he first started dealing, but Rick assured him he already had someone for that.

Then another girl died. Someone Eddie hadn’t known. He knew of her. But she wasn’t even in any of his classes, in any of his senior years. She also didn’t do drugs. Hell, Molly Masters was a known Straight Edger. She wouldn’t have gone near Eddie unless she wanted to throw hands.

Which is why he was blamed for her death, actually. They insinuated that she had finally had enough of his drug dealing ways and had gone after him.

He even had an alibi for that one, not that it mattered. Playing in front of five random drunks and a stingy ass bartender wasn’t exactly as air tight as it could have been. Because as far as witnesses go, they were pretty shit.

Then Barb Holland died. And that was a kick in the teeth. He knew who she was but only in a tenuous ‘best friend of the girlfriend of the most popular boy in school’ kind of way. Eddie was starting to see the pattern, even if the cops didn’t.

Then the final one which ended in the death of Jason Carver, Chrissy’s boyfriend. Only Robin Buckley was still very much alive.

But for the those first three days, she was in a coma. So the police spun the narrative that Eddie had been trying to kill her when Jason had interrupted them; saving her life, but losing his in the process.

Until she woke up and blew the whole investigation out of the water.

“I’m telling you Jason Carver was trying to kill me,” she said for the tenth time to a motley crew of Hopper, Powell, and Callahan from her hospital bed.

“Now why would he go and do a thing like that for?” Powell huffed. “Jason was a good, upstanding young man. Captain of the basketball team. He loved Chrissy. He wouldn’t hurt her. Not for anything.”

Robin let out a long sigh of frustration and buried her head in her hands. She looked up at them, weighing her options before she finally snapped, “Because I’m a lesbian!”

They stared at her blankly.

“Apparently Chrissy was too and that’s why he killed her.”

“You telling me that Jason Carver, all American boy next door was a murderer killing queer kids?” Callahan huffed in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

“And I’m telling you it’s true,” Robin hissed. “Plus whoever saved my life and killed the rat bastard wasn’t Eddie Munson.” She crossed her arms over her chest and settled into the bed, grumpy.

Hopper pinched his nose. “Let’s say we follow this line of inquiry, why do you believe Eddie Munson wasn’t involved at all. You keep saying you never saw your rescuer’s face.”

She looked up at him like he was stupid. “Because the guy that took the bat to Jason’s head was wearing a short sleeve shirt.”

The cops all looked at each other in confusion.

Robin threw her arms up in the air. “No tattoos, assholes! Eddie very famously has bats on his...” she looked at her own arms for a second, “right forearm. And whoever this Jesus with a bat was, he didn’t have any tattoos on his arm.”

“Robin!” her mother admonished. Melissa Buckley was there to ensure that the police didn’t try and twist Robin’s words into saying something that wasn’t true.

Robin just shrugged, unrepentant. They were being assholes and someone should tell them to their faces.

“Well, shit!” Powell snapped, throwing his hands into the air in frustration. “If it wasn’t Eddie then who the fuck was it?”

Just then the door to Robin’s room burst open, startling all those inside. Officer Glenn Daniels came running up to Chief Hopper, a large envelope in his hands.

“Florence got this this morning,” Daniels said, panting for breath. “And we wanted to verify its authenticity before bringing it to you. So me and couple of the other officers looked into it.”

Hopper opened the envelope, his eyes growing wider the more and more he looked through it. “And how much it of is accurate?”

“All of it.”

“There is no way,” Hopper growled, slamming the envelope on Powell’s chest. “No evidence is that air tight. There must be some kind mistake or error in there somewhere.”

Powell took the envelope and looked down into it. His eyebrows shot up. “There are actual fucking writings by Carver in here. Where the hell did they find those?”

Daniels just shook his head. “Whoever found this shit was meticulous. There are no other fingerprints than Jason’s on anything. But there is a letter.”

Powell went searching through the envelope and pulled it out, handing it to the Chief, who read it, mumbling to himself.

“Well, as much as I would like to say the bastard is wrong,” Hopper said with a resigned sigh. “He’s not. Or she or whatever. They’re not wrong. The victims wouldn’t have gotten justice, not with them being queer. Jason would have been lauded a hero and paraded in the streets for taking out the trash.”

“‘To the police,” Powell read out loud. “I am sending you all the evidence you failed to collect when you were too busy trying to pin these murders on an innocent man. It didn’t take a lot to realize the true connection the victims had. I’m just sorry I was too late to save Molly Masters. She didn’t deserve to die in that horrible way.

“Once I figured out who it was, I knew that there would be no justice for these kids. Not when Jason Carver was who he was, and why he was killing his peers. So I quietly compiled all the evidence I could. His journals. His distinct lack of alibis for any of the murders. His emotional connection to the first victim, his girlfriend, Chrissy Cunningham.

“I’m just glad I was able to stop him from killing that final girl. But if she did die later, I hope Carver rots in the hell of his own making. No one deserves to die because of who they love.

“-Jason’s Executioner.”

“Well, that ain’t creepy as shit,” Callahan said sarcastically. “Well it’s not as though we could have used any of this evidence anyway.”

“And when is Eddie Munson being released?” Melissa huffed, pulling herself up to her nearly six feet of height.

Hopper blinked at her for a moment. “I’m not sure I understand the question, ma’am.”

“That boy is innocent!” Melissa said sternly. “And what? You’re going to just sweep this all under the rug and leave Jason Carver’s reputation intact?”

“That’s not what I said,” Hopper replied, low and dangerous. “And I don’t appreciate you putting words into my mouth.”

Melissa crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

“He is innocent of the murders, yes,” he said, “but he still sold an underaged girl ketamine. And last time I checked that was still very much against the law.”

“I don’t believe you actually have proof of that,” Melissa said with a winning smile.

“He confessed,” Powell said in confusion. “We have it on record of him confessing to selling the drugs.” He put his hands on his hips. “There’s no way he’s not going away for the drugs.”

“Under duress,” Melissa said smugly. “Which any lawyer worth his salt will get tossed out in a heartbeat. You have nothing on the boy and you know it.”

Robin grinned up at her. “Isn’t she so cool? And she’s my mom!”

“Stop calling him a boy!” Callahan hissed. “He’s twenty! He knew full well what he was doing and I’m not going to stand here and let you pretend otherwise.”

Melissa scoffed, eyeing him up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I’d call your dog to heel there, Chief, we wouldn’t want me to scream police intimidation, now would we?”

“Don’t make me arrest you, Mel,” Hopper growled. “Again.”

Melissa grinned up at the chief. They had been on very opposite sides of the Vietnam War. Him having been in the army and her having been in the protests against the War. Hawks and Doves.

“And just what would be the charge this time, Chief?” she asked with a wink.

Hopper squeezed his eyes closed and then opened them slowly. He let out a long exasperated sigh. “Eddie Munson will be released without charges by the end of today.”

But before his underlings could protest he held up his hands. “It’s either release him and sweep under the rug that some rank amateur or we don’t release him and Melissa here goes to the press about how we put away an innocent man and get the national media up in our business.”

They stared at him for a moment before they grumbling agreed. Hopper bid the Buckleys goodbye and then led his officers out the room.

So how did Eddie know all this? He talked to Hopper, Daniels and the Buckleys and while some details varied they pretty much confirmed that how it went down and how Eddie got out on a ‘technicality’ as the cops were calling it.

When he stepped out into the fresh air outside of the jail with Wayne waiting for him, he took a deep breath and let it go.

“I don’t know how you can stand living in this hell hole,” he groused as he hopped into Wayne’s truck.

“Can’t afford to leave,” Wayne huffed and started the truck. “If I could scrape up the money to get out of here, I would and I’d take you with me.”

Eddie gave his uncle’s shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe I’ll be able to get a job and get enough money for both of us out.”

“If wishes were horses,” Wayne said ruefully as he pulled out into traffic. “I’m just glad you were released without charges.”

“You and me both, old man,” Eddie huffed. “I was sure I was going to be Reading, Pennsylvania, Short Line and B&O railroaded.”

���Good thing Melissa Buckley was there when they interrogated her daughter,” Wayne growled. “Or you might still be sitting in that cell.”

“I hope you sent her flowers,” Eddie said. “She certainly deserves it.”

“Delilahs and some of my grandma’s shortbread,” Wayne confirmed. “I even offered to help out any handwork they may need in the future too. And if I were you I’d offer your way around an engine too.”

Eddie saluted. “Aye, Aye!”

Wayne snorted. “If the way she tells it is true, some rookie wannabe detective is the one that provided the most damning evidence against that Carver kid.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Eddie said with a snort. “These backwater cops wouldn’t know their ass from their elbow.”

“Still it makes you wonder who it was...” Wayne said softly as they turned into the trailer park.

“It certainly does that,” Eddie agreed. “It certainly does that.”

~

I am ridiculously pleased with the railroad joke. It still makes me smile every time.

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

Emma’s Epic Bday Multi-Fandom Rec List: Stranger Things Edition

(yes, there will be many parts because oh my god I read waaaay too much fic)

Since it was my birthday recently (and around the 1-year anniversary of when I started actually using Tumblr again after a years-long break) I figured it was only fitting to do a giant master list of all of the amazing fanfics that I have read (and reread) in the past year. 

I do my best to reblog as much as possible but sometimes with work and life I miss it so this is my attempt to make up for that and give all of the amazing creators on here the credit they deserve. Thank you all so much for sharing all of your work with us. This year has been a long and difficult one for me, especially mental health wise, and being able to escape into these stories has been so valuable and important to me. 

If you read anything on here that you like, please reblog and/or comment on these fics to show the creators some love! 

AN IMPORTANT NOTE: While not everything listed here will include smut, many of these authors have 18+ blogs. Please, please, please respect their boundaries and DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM/THEIR CONTENT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Stories marked with ❤️‍🔥 contain NSFW content

Stranger Things: 

colors (series) ❤️‍🔥by @loveshotzz — this was my introduction to ST fanfic and hooooo boy what an intro it was. what i wouldn’t give for a steamy, forbidden romance with best friend’s dad!Steve —sorry, Jenny, but he was just too hot to resist — it’s hot and emotional and basically the stuff that fantasies are made of. loveshotzzz is also the creator of the Foxy Lounge series, featuring flirty bartender Eddie and bad-at-fighting bouncer Steve which is also *chef’s kiss* 

Time to giddy up, yeah? ❤️‍🔥by @loveshotzz — two words: pornstache Steve. Two more words: mustache ride. Two more? You’re welcome. 

As You Wish (series) ❤️‍🔥 by @corroded-hellfire — my all time favorite Eddie series! Ryan and Luke are the most adorable, hilarious kids (i loved their little “scheme” to set their dad up with their babysitter) and the little family that Eddie and his sons form with the reader has just been so delightful to read. (also, for the record, it’s on sight with brittany)

put me through it, baby ❤️‍🔥 by @agentmarvel — PINING EDDIE MY BELOVED! Ugh I loved the slow building of the friendship between Eddie and reader, the angst of him knowing that her boyfriend was trash but not wanting to cross a line, the passion between them. As i wrote when i reblogged it, “Screaming, crying, laughing, smiling, CRYING 😍🥹😭🥵 “ 

take me higher ❤️‍🔥 by @munson-blurbs — i will never get enough Argyle stories, and bug has written some of my favorites. this is one i reread all the time (i’m clearly a sucker for a good babysitter fic) because i love the way Argyle feels so real in it. The flirtation, the banter, those sweet little moments of awkwardness, it’s all truly 10/10. A special runner-up mention goes to this blurb which features best friend! Argyle and hair pulling and is just … just a dream. 

bad idea  ❤️‍🔥 by @abibliophobiaa — if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it a million times: Steve Harrington is a menace. Best friend!Steve gets his hands on the romance novel you’re reading and decides to tease you with all of the flirty things he picked up from it. Steve is at peak menace in this, which means i fell hard and fast. 

this is gonna sting by @lovebugism — this one was written so, so beautifully. Sweet, lovestruck Eddie afraid to open up and confess his feelings always hits me hard and the imagery in this was just so stunning that i think about it a lot. I aspire to write a sentence as beautiful as “he leaks a bright red truth right across from you and carries everything he feels about you in raging scarlet scrapes.”

Steve Harrington Boat Smut ❤️‍🔥 by @lovebugism — God, what a glorious day it was when those pictures of Joe Keery on a boat in Italy made their way online. Anyway, this is exactly what is says on the tin and exactly what we all needed in that moment. 

This story by @pouringmyheartoutforpaper — sweet, sweet lovesick Stevie who is determined that things will be different in this relationship meets reader who has some insecurities about how slow their relationship is progressing. Gorgeous, sweet, fluff that will give you the warm fuzzies. 

The Tune-Up ❤️‍🔥 by @roanniom — Issa, queen of smut! This mechanic Eddie story is so hot that it will have you contemplating whether or not you should mess with a few things on your car, just for an excuse to come visit him in the shop. (Also just read all of her stuff. It’s so, so good.) 

Happy Mother’s Day, Steve Harrington ❤️‍🔥 by @roanniom — STEVE. HARRINGTON. BREEDING. KINK. WILL MAKE BRAIN GO BRRRRRRR. I rest my case. 

The Riddles Three ❤️‍🔥by @blueywrites — You cannot convince me that Eddie “Dungeon Master” “Lord of the Rings nerd” Munson would not try and do a Gollum impression in bed. As a firm believer in goofy, weird bedroom antics, this story is canon and I will hear nothing else about it. 

Smoke and Cherry Pop Rocks ❤️‍🔥 by @somnambulic-thing — want to have your heart broken in the best way possible? HERE YOU GO. A gorgeous, tender, emotional story about regrets and moving on and finding the courage to open up, even if it’s a little too late. 

Classified ❤️‍🔥by @pullhisteeth — considering the slightly absurd premise — putting an ad in the paper to lose your virginity — this was gorgeously grounded and real. Eddie is so lovely and gentle in this and it was just a treat to read. 

monster under the bed ❤️‍🔥by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple — i’m going to be honest: this is monsterfucking. But if that’s something you’re into, you *need* to read this. It will make you go feral.

River Monster! Eddie ❤️‍🔥by @courtingchaos — brb, wandering along the banks of all the rivers near me in an attempt to lure River Monster!Eddie to come out and mate with me. Again, it is monsterfucking, but … come on. It’s so good. (Meg also has some of the best Gator Tillman fics out there. They’re hot and weird and wild in all of the best ways. 

My Goyle Fiend ❤️‍🔥by @bettyfrommars — You want monsters? You go to Betty. Trust me on this. Her gargoyle series was the first that I read from her and I was hooked instantly. She’s written werewolves, vampires and is currently working on a brilliant series where Eddie works at the Nightmare Factory and appears in your dreams as all kinds of different ghosts and ghouls. If things that go bump in the night aren’t your taste, her biker! Eddie and Steve series are also great, as well as her beautiful gigalo!Eddie story. 

I Can See You ❤️‍🔥by @fairyysoup — I don’t know that there are enough words to express how much I loved this story, The not-so-unrequited affection, the building tension, the way Steve and the reader keep coming together over the years, Steve’s big grand gesture at the end … just so beautiful and moving and steamy. I’ve already reread it like 4 times. 

Stranger Things Adjacent  a.k.a. Joseph Quinn characters 

The Hat Shop Girl (Ralph from Timewasters) ❤️‍🔥by @rehfan — Y’all this story is *so* good. It packs so much into this love story — issues of class, grief, sexuality, power dynamics — in a way that just makes their journey so much richer and more interesting. This version of Ralph is perfect, soft and sweet and well-meaning but also the way his confidence builds throughout the story is delightful and the smut between them is so delicious and delightful. 10/10. 

Knight in Shining Armor (Billy Knight) ❤️‍🔥by @rehfan — I’m gonna say it: This is my favorite Billy Knight fanfic of all time. So soft and tender, it handles Billy’s mental health in a way that feels really empathetic and realistic while also letting the audience indulge in the thing everyone really wants: to give sweet Billy all the love in the world. 

This Billy Knight Masterlist ❤️‍🔥by @pollenallergie — I could not pick just one of these amazing Billy fics. pollenallergie is, in my mind, *the* authority on all things Billy Knight and she’s got it all. Her writing is soft and steamy and touching all at the same time and I love it all. 

Worth It (Ralph from Timewasters) by @wheels-of-despair — Do you want to feel *all* of the delightful warm fuzzies as you daydream about the perfect life with sweet Ralph? This is the story for you. Every chapter is delightful and touching and will make you feel *all* of the feelings. I love it so much. 

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Fairytale Ending

written for @steddiemicrofic

Prompt: Rose || wc: 367 || rated: T || tags: Hanahaki, blood, sick fic

🥀🥀🥀

"Steve, what the fuck is this?"

It's a hypothetical question. Or well, a non-question, because Eddie knows exactly what he's holding in his now blood-splattered hand.

It's a full rose bud, fresh from Steve's lungs.

Steve doesn't respond, just closes his sunken eyes and turns his head away. Red stains his chapped lips, either from the crushed petals or his own blood, Eddie can't tell.

Steve's been pulling away for weeks. Cutting everyone off one by one until only Robin could get him to pick up the phone.

Until today, when she'd called Eddie in a fit of sobs, saying she hadn't been able to reach him for days. He'd hopped in the van not ten minutes later, knocking and knocking until he'd finally said fuck it and busted a window.

Like some fucked up version of Snow White, he found Steve lying on his soon-to-be death bed surrounded by bloodied flower petals.

"He doesn't love me." Steve's ragged voice stutters over another coughing fit.

He. Steve has a Prince Charming somewhere out there, and here he is stuck with Eddie instead.

Jealousy squeezes Eddie's chest in a vice so painful it feels like he rebroke the same ribs Steve snapped while saving his life. But Eddie doesn't have time to dwell when Steve's coughing morphs into sobs.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie gentles his voice, cupping his hand around Steve's face, fruitlessly wiping away stray tears. "It's impossible to know you without loving every single part of you. I--"

Eddie doesn't have the excuse of a flower to choke on. He wonders if it's worth it, confessing his love to the man of his dreams when there's irrefutable proof in the shape of a bloodied flower that it's unrequited.

Fuck it. Eddie might not be a knight in shining armor, but he's done being a coward.

"I know I do."

“Yeah?” There's blood between his teeth and a thorn stuck in his gums when Steve smiles like he won the lottery. Like all his dreams have come true.

Oh.

Eddie bends forward, kisses his fevered forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart, I really do love you.”

Steve hums, content. “I love you too.”

Maybe Eddie finally gets his happily ever after.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Here Before Morning

Prompt Day 1: Snowfall | Word Count: 578 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Established Relationship, Fluff, The Magic of First Snow

Eddie can smell the snow. It's not here yet, but it'll be here before morning, he's absolutely positive. In fact, he's pretty sure the smell of snow is his first memory. He assumes he had to have been no more than four or five, but he remembers his mom taking him outside, all bundled up in the yard, waiting. Together. The two of them just standing there, looking at the sky, soaking up that cold smell that was brand new to his little self, but has since remained seared into his brain.

It's a good memory, and if he can sense it coming, he'll always come out to welcome it in.

He pulls his coat tighter across his back, shoving his hands deep into the pockets. It's cold. Really cold, and he tilts his head back and inhales deeply, closing his eyes.

"Brrr. What are you doing out here?" Steve asks, after cracking open the back sliding door. Eddie opens his eyes and looks over at him to see Steve shivering as the winter air hits his bare skin.

"I smelled snow," Eddie explains.

And Steve nods, hair sticking up all over the place, then he's tugging the sliding glass door back closed.

And Eddie closes his eyes again, waiting.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve turns up. Dressed, a mug of coffee cupped between his hands. 

Eddie turns and smiles at him, "You didn't have to come out. It's too cold."

Steve looks so tired. He's got his glasses on, and his biggest, warmest sweater. Eddie thinks he looks cozy like this, beautiful in a way that feels effortless, and real. But then again, to Eddie, Steve always does.

Eddie will never be sure how he got this lucky in life. It always seemed like he was destined to be fucked by life at every turn. And then Steve arrived, covered in blood and bat bites, determined to save him.

He did. In more ways than one.

But mainly just by loving him. Eddie's luck, the shitty, hard life he felt helplessly destined for, had finally turned tides.

And it had everything to do with Steve Harrington, white knight in a bloodied battle vest, Eddie is absolutely certain. 

"You got a timeline on this snow?" Steve asks, stifling a yawn, as he hands over his mug, sharing it with Eddie. They definitely don't take their coffee the same, but Steve's left this cup black, Eddie's preference, not his own.

Eddie looks at the sky, as if he's making predictions:

"Seventeen minutes, thirty-two seconds," Eddie answers.

"Really?" Steve asks, looking like he doesn't believe Eddie. Which he damn well shouldn't. Eddie's just talking out of his ass, as always.

"No, I'm not that good," Eddie laughs. 

And Steve looks his way, eyes all soft in a way that always gets Eddie, "I don't know, you seem that good to me. You've got that magic."

Eddie grins back at him, leaning over and pressing his lips to Steve's.

"It's early," Steve mumbles against his mouth, and Eddie starts to ask what's early.

But then he feels it.

The first brush of wetness, and then more and more damp kisses of snow land and melt on his skin.

Steve pulls back, and Eddie looks up, watching as the snowflakes fill the night sky, illuminated by the streetlamps.

"See?" Steve says, "Magic."

And Eddie laughs, spinning around, opening his mouth, trying to catch some of the falling snowflakes on his tongue.

Magic, indeed.

Notes: Definitely inspired by Lorelai Gilmore and her sixth sense for the first snow of the year.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ❄️

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Whatever the future may hold

Written for the May pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Graduation

Rated: M

Tags: Omegaverse; omega!Eddie; alpha!Steve; pregnancy; mentions of sex

Notes: Set in the same universe as Whatever you want it to be

Eddie turns the square cap in his hands, feeling utterly and supremely sorry for himself. He's been imagining this day for so long. Snatching that diploma from Higgins's unwilling hands and prancing off that stage into a brighter, better future.

Only now, that future fills him with nothing but dread.

He groans, burying his face in his arms.

It was all going so well.

A while ago, when Carver and his possee found out about his little omegan secret, he thought his life was over.

Except Steve Harrington swooped in like a white, baseball bat wielding knight and saved him, and took him home, and cared for him. Knotted him near damn stupid, too, not that Eddie is complaining.

They've since commenced what must be the weirdest courtship in the history of courtship - stolen glances and subtle gifts and furtive dates at Steve's house or Eddie’s trailer. Eddie has kept his secret safe, and Steve is its biggest protector.

It's perfect. Everything Eddie never knew he wanted.

So of course it couldn't last.

“Eddie?”

Shit!

He must've been so far gone in his head he didn't hear the trailer door open, didn't catch the scent wafting into his bedroom. Pine needles and moss and sunlight.

“Stevie,” he croaks, and his stomach twists.

Footsteps approach. The doorknob rattles once, twice, before Steve realizes it's locked. His scent turns worried. Steve's worried about him. Eddie’s needy hindbrain whines at the thought.

“Eds, lemme in. Please?”

Eddie is unlocking the door before he even realizes he’s moved. Quickly, dread clawing at his guts, he retreats back onto his bed.

“Hey,” Steve ducks around the gown dangling from its hanger by the door. “Wayne called, said you wouldn’t come out of your room? Ceremony’s about to start, what are you- Eddie? What’s wrong?”

Because he has just spotted Eddie, back against the wall, arms wrapped around hunched knees, trembling hand still clasping the cap. Steve is in front of him in an instant, mattress dipping under his weight. His hands cup Eddie’s face, tilting his head up, and Eddie knows he should pull away, he really should. Still, he’s helpless to do anything but let himself sink into Steve’s comforting touch and scent.

“What’s going on?” Steve’s voice is a barely restrained growl. “Carver try shit again? You know you don’t have to worry-”

Eddie shakes his head. His stomach feels like it’s trying to crawl its way out of his throat. “It’s not Carver.”

Steve’s brow furrows.

“But then, what- … Are you sick?” He leans in, nosing the hollow of Eddie’s neck. “Your scent’s a bit off. Should I call a doctor, or-”

“Will you fucking leave it?” Eddie slaps Steve's hands away. The cap hits the mattress with a soft thud. “I'm not sick! Jesus!”

Steve's eyes are full of hurt confusion and worry. It makes Eddie want to laugh and cry and scream all at once.

“But I don't-” Steve stammers. “Why won't you-”

“Because I'm pregnant, okay?”

Steve's words screech to a halt. His eyes grow large, mouth forming a dumb little oh shape. It would be funny, Eddie thinks hysterically, if there was anything remotely funny about this entire clusterfuck of a situation.

“Wha-” Steve starts to say. Shuts his mouth. Opens it again. “I mean how- … I mean … are you sure?”

Like a line from some cliché soap opera. Eddie laughs weakly.

“Been puking my guts out all week. Took five tests, all positive. I'm pretty fucking sure, big boy.”

Silence seeps into the room. For a moment, Eddie thinks Steve's going to continue right on with the soap opera shit and ask when it happened. If it’s his. But Steve knows Eddie has never been with anyone else. Knows they've always been careful - except for that very first time.

Eddie screws his eyes shut and waits.

“Wow,” Steve breathes after an eternity. “That’s … that’s unbelievable.”

Eddie furrows his brow. Steve’s voice is brimming with incredulity, but also with something else. Something that, if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d put close to … happiness? Hesitantly, he peeps one eye open.

He’s just in time to see Steve launch himself at him, and then he’s enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. Steve’s scent crests over him, heady and familiar.

“W-wait,” Eddie manages to mumble against the rapid staccato of Steve’s heartbeat. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Steve pulls back just enough to look at him. His smile is so wide, Eddie’s afraid his face might be too small for it. “Why would I be mad? You know I want kids, loads of them!”

“Well yeah,” Eddie stammers. The room is spinning and all he can see is Steve’s smile. “But-”

“And you know I can’t imagine a better person to have them with than you.”

“Well …” Eddie can practically feel himself flush. “I guess.”

Steve leans in to kiss his forehead. “Then why are you so upset, dumbass?”

“Well, I dunno,” Eddie blurts, unable to keep the sarcastic undertone at bay. “Maybe cause I’m barely out of school? Or because we’re not even mated? Because your parents will go absolutely fucking-”

“Fuck my parents,” Steve declares. “This is about you and me. We’ll figure it out one step at a time. First, and most importantly: Do you want to have this kid with me?”

One large hand finds Eddie’s stomach, splaying itself over it, warm and safe. Eddie feels how something inside of him goes soft.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Yes, I’d love that.”

“Brilliant,” Steve beams, and kisses him. Eddie melts into it, but just as he’s about to lose himself in that summer forest scent, Steve pulls away. Eddie frowns as something is placed on his head - the stupid cap.

“And second,” Steve winks, giving his stomach one last gentle pat, “You gotta put on that gown and let me drive you to school. The two of you need to walk in half an hour.”

Poor Steve brought beer for the celebration. He'll need to drink it all by himself, whelp.

They're baaack, and they're having a baby!!! I said I'd write more of these two sooner rather than later, didn't I?

[patchworkgargoyle]

Booty 🌿

Steve has a plan, and Eddie falls for it. || read on ao3

Here it finally is, folks! My first smut for the ST fandom. I hope you like it!! Inspired by this post.

WC: ~4.8k || E || CW: Unsafe sex

“Please, Eddie?”

“Are you insane, Steve? It’s hotter than Satan’s taint out there, you cannot expect me to peel myself off this couch.”

Eddie heard a frustrated sigh and a small thud, imagining that Steve had let his head drop on the wall by his phone. “Yeah, I’m aware, I’m sweating buckets right now. But I gotta have the car fixed before tomorrow, I promised Claudia I’d pick up Dustin from the bus station and I can’t do that if it won’t start.”

Thing was, Eddie did kinda want to go and help him, heatwave be damned. They’d grown close in the months since spring break and despite his previous misgivings Eddie had gotten to like Steve. More than he should, really. He can’t help it if his queer little heart does a jig every time he manages to make Steve laugh in that eye-crinkling, head-tipped-back kind of way. Got good at it too, which made Eddie feel a great deal of selfish pride. And if he can’t take his eyes off the long lines of Steve’s mole-dotted neck, that’s his own business.

But this was something else. As soon as Steve called to ask if Eddie would help fix the Bimmer he couldn’t get the thought of him–sweaty and greasy and bent over the open hood of the car, his hair falling just so and lip bitten between his teeth in concentration–out of his dirty little mind. The things he’d want to do. It did as much to convince Eddie to go as it did to make him want to keep his distance.

He was a weak man, however.

“Fine. Alright. But you’d better make it worth my time, I’m risking my pale, un-sunburnt ass for this.”

Steve snorted. “Don’t worry, I will,” he said blandly.

They hung up after Eddie promised to be there in a few minutes, and he rolled off of the couch with a melodramatic groan. Moving in the muggy heat trapped inside the trailer sucked, but he wasn’t going to back out. Steve had sounded so relieved when he’d said goodbye that it gave Eddie enough pep to lurch his way to the kitchen to grab a few cold beers before scrambling into his van. He appreciated his own forethought when he burned his hand on the door handle and could hold a cold bottle against the spot. Fucking summer.

Parking in the Harringtons’ driveway, he spotted the Bimmer pulled halfway into the garage, the front shaded by the overhang in what must be an attempt to avoid the worst of the sunlight. The hood was popped open, but Eddie couldn’t see Steve.

“Ohh Stevie!” he sang, “your knight in shining armour has arrived!” He heard something thunk from the garage but got no response, so he wandered inside, trying to peer around the hood. “I come bearing gifts but they’re gonna get–”

Wheels squeaked from below and Eddie looked down, only to be treated to the sight of Steve’s legs, long and hairy and sprawled open, flexing as he dragged himself out from under the car on the creeper and revealing more inches of mouth-watering thighs. He was–oh fuck, Steve was wearing the tiniest cut-off jean shorts Eddie had ever seen, the fabric of the pockets poking out from under the frayed hems. They were tight, too, hugging his hips and, god, his bulge. The white tank top Steve wore had ridden up, too, exposing the trail of hair that dipped below the fucking shorts, but Eddie followed it up, along the grease stains and the swell of his pecs to Steve’s grinning face.

“...Hot.” Eddie’s voice cracked around the word.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie said, “The beer, it’s uh, gonna get hot.” Somehow he managed to not sound like he was choking on his own drool while Steve still stared up at him from the ground, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. There was a slight smear of dirt across his cheek and Eddie wanted to lick it off.

“You know where the fridge is, Eddie, if you’re that worried.”

“Nah, you look like you need a break. Get up here,” he said, waggling the bottle over Steve’s face. Steve chuckled but finally stood and relieved Eddie of the misery of seeing Steve on his back and not having been the one to put him there.

He popped the caps off with the bottle opener on his keychain, and Steve took his with a ‘thank you,’ downing half in a few gulps. Eddie distracted himself from the sight of Steve’s throat bobbing by peering over at the engine.

“So what’s the issue, doc?”

Steve pulled away from the bottle with a soft popping sound from his pink lips and a gasp. “Dunno yet. That’s why I called you,” he said, leaning on the car beside Eddie. “Oil and battery are fine, spark plugs look good too.”

“She been making a sputtering kind of sound recently? Could be the throttle.”

“Nah, no weird noises.”

Eddie hummed, then set his bottle aside. “Alright, let’s get underneath her then.” Lowering himself onto the creeper and sliding under the car, he said, “Could be a belt has finally busted. Got a flashlight?”

“Really need to ask that?” Steve’s voice got fainter as he walked a little ways away. “The kids insisted on a disaster preparedness kit after round two with the Upside Down.”

There was a tap on the wood under Eddie’s hip, and blindly he reached down to grab the flashlight Steve found. He tinkered around under the Bimmer, unable to wipe away the sweat that started to drip and stick his bangs to his forehead. But eventually he began to roll back out into open, but no less stupidly hot, air.

“Looks like everything’s shipshape, captain–” Eddie choked on his own words when he looked up and was met with a sight straight out of his wet dreams.

Steve stood over Eddie, his legs spread wide enough that Eddie had rolled right between them. If he sat down, Steve would be straddling Eddie’s hips, but that would deprive him of this new angle at which to admire all of Steve’s assets wrapped so tightly in frayed, lightwash denim. Mouth falling open, Eddie let out an eloquent, “Uhhh,” and Steve laughed, holding out his hand.

“Thought you’d like a hand,” Steve explained, smirking.

He took it without thinking and let Steve haul him off the creeper board and up to his feet. A kick, and Steve sent the board skittering away underneath the car, but Eddie barely winced at the noise. He was too busy standing so close to Steve that they breathed the same humid air. If he so much as swayed, their noses would bump together. Christ, Steve had pretty eyes, a bright, warm brown flecked with amber even in the shade of the garage and he swore he could see Steve’s pupils dilate the longer their gazes locked together.

“So, what were you saying?” Steve asked in a low tone. He tilted his head ever so slightly and those eyes held some kind of dare within them, one eyebrow ticked upward. Eddie couldn’t help swallowing, licking his lips, and Steve went from staring into Eddie’s eyes to down at his lips.

“Just saying that, that everything looked fine. Might, uh, might be the crankshaft or the–” Steve stepped forward just enough to bring their chests together, the back of Eddie’s knees hitting the bumper, and Eddie’s breath hitched, his voice cracking, “–the sensor.”

“Eddie.” The way Steve said his name sent a frisson of heat through Eddie, right to his dick, which was becoming a very obvious guest between them.

“Yeah, Stevie?” he whispered.

Broad, warm hands wrapped around Eddie’s slim hips. Steve worked a finger through a belt loop on each side and tugged, and Eddie realised he wasn’t the only one with a hard on when Steve’s pressed up against his own, pulling a hiss of pleasure from them both. Oh, shit. Leaning impossibly closer, Steve’s lips brushed against Eddie’s when he spoke. “I don’t care about the car right now.”

That snapped whatever faint, lingering reservations Eddie had. “Fuck, Stevie, please kiss m–” He didn’t even finish before Steve’s lips crashed into his, plush and hungry. It wasn’t long before Eddie began to nip and lick, his teeth drawing short, pleased noises from Steve’s mouth before he pulled back a scant inch.

“Fucking finally,” Steve said, and dove back in, biting back, making Eddie groan. His hands found their way to Steve’s sides, then, spurred on by Steve’s enthusiasm, he reached down and grabbed at his ass. His fingers wrapped under the hem and he yanked Steve’s hips in and up, rising to meet them.

Steve’s cock grinding against Eddie’s was a fucking revelation. From the way Steve’s mouth parted with a hot gasp, Eddie guessed he felt the same. “Hold on, baby,” he rasped, and using what leverage he had, Eddie hoisted Steve onto his lap, Steve’s knees spread and braced on the car. There was no way he could keep them there for long, but fuck it was hot, rutting their hips together while they kissed, wet and messy.

Eddie tasted the salt of his own sweat when Steve licked into his mouth and moaned, hands fisted into the denim in his grip, feeling more sweat beginning to drip down his back. The heat was stifling, but nothing compared to what started to grow in Eddie’s gut. One of Steve’s hands buried in his curls and pulled, had Eddie bucking up and whimpering around Steve’s tongue. He could come like this, dry humping on top of the Bimmer, lap full of Steve in those shorts, hands on his perfect ass, would’ve if the idea weren’t more embarrassing than hot.

“St-Steve, wait,” Eddie panted, whining again when Steve’s hand clenched in his hair again.

“Why’d you stop? Don’t wanna stop, Eddie,” Steve groaned, before a little more clarity seeped into him and he leaned back into his arms, concerned. “Or, shit, wait, is this okay?”

“God, fuck yes this is okay. Been thinking about this forever, man.” Steve smiled widely, verging on a little goofy, before ducking in and pressing open-mouthed kisses to Eddie’s throat. Eddie’s arms began to shake. His legs had long since begun to tremble. “But, hang on, ah, I’m gonna either drop you or come in my shorts in like two minutes if we don’t rethink this.”

All that did was make Steve start rocking into him again. “Hot,” he mumbled as he licked up a trail of sweat under Eddie’s jaw, making Eddie swear and tip his head back.

Eddie’s knees decided to buckle right then. They shouted, Eddie scrambled, locking Steve in his arms and getting his feet under himself before standing, his hands still hooked around Steve’s ass while Steve’s legs clung to his waist. Steve’s shocked expression likely matched Eddie’s, before he rested his forehead against Eddie’s and laughed so hard his body shook. Helpless, Eddie joined in, holding Steve close while their giggling faded out. But his arms were aching so, gently, he put Steve down.

“Do you wanna stop?” Steve asked. Eddie shook his head.

“You?” Steve shook his. “Thank fuck,” Eddie said. He ran his hands over Steve’s ass, over the crease of his thigh, the tips of his fingers tickling the hair on the back of his thighs before guiding him close again. “Didn’t wanna let you go now that I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Steve dove into Eddie’s mouth with a hungry groan. The slick sounds of their lips echoed in the garage. With a tug, Steve turned them around and backed up into the car, his hands wandering underneath Eddie’s cut up Iron Maiden tee and clutching at his sides, over the fresh demobat scars, nails digging in bluntly.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off Steve either. He pawed at whatever he could, finding the places that made Steve pant and hum into his mouth. But he wanted more, because Eddie has always been a bit greedy. One hand snaked its way around to cup Steve through the shorts that barely contained him, pressing his fingers around the hard outline of Steve’s cock and squeezing, rubbing. The low, raspy moan he got for his efforts made Eddie grin wolfishly.

Head lolling back, Steve breathed hard and rose to meet each stroke of Eddie’s palm. Eddie began to bite and suck his way down the strong line of Steve’s neck, biting every mole he could find. “E-Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”

The words made Eddie bite down just shy of too hard. Steve whined, and Eddie lapped at the spot in apology. “I wanna, I wanna so bad, Steve, but we’re fucking filthy, sweetheart,” he mumbled into Steve’s neck.

“Don’t need to do anything. I, mmh, prepared for this.”

Eddie pulled back to blink at him in disbelief. “You what?”

“I’ve been wanting this for months and nothing was working! So I just, made this as obvious as I fucking could.”

“Months?” Eddie’s jaw dropped when Steve gave him a look that managed to be both fond, flirty, and frustrated. “I could’ve been fucking you for months!?”

“Or I could’ve been fucking you.”

That idea, as sexy as it was, had to be pushed aside before it managed to make Eddie’s horny little brain leak out of his ears. “Putting a pin in that, that’s absolutely gonna happen, but I wanna revisit something. You prepared?”

Steve smirked. “Yeah,” he said, simple and cocky and so hot Eddie could combust. Eddie tried to capture Steve’s lips again but Steve stopped him with a firm hand against his chest, pushing Eddie back a few steps. Turning, he closed the hood of his car and instead of twisting back around to face Eddie, Steve leaned on his arms and arched his back.

Now that was a sight. Steve’s long, tan legs spread just so, one knee cocked to give a slight tilt to his hips. The firm, round swell of his ass peeking out under the denim that struggled to hold together. And right on the apex of those pretty, biteable, jean-clad cheeks: two dark, dirty handprints. There’s even the blackened imprint of fingers on Steve’s skin. Eddie’s fingers, Eddie’s hands. His cock twitched against his zipper and he moaned out, “Ohhh my god…”

Looking over his shoulder, Steve’s smug smirk grew, and he tilted his hips up a little further. “I know I look good, Munson, but are you gonna do something about it or what?”

Eddie stepped forward and draped himself along the expanse of Steve’s back, rutting his hips into Steve’s and making him hum sweetly. “Don’t have to get bratty about it, baby,” he said. He dragged his fingers along Steve’s sides, letting his nails catch on the soft texture of Steve’s scars before dipping down and popping his button open in one swift motion. “Tell me how you prepared.”

He felt the shiver his words evoked run down Steve’s spine. As he slid the zipper down and slid his hand in to find Steve had gone commando–both of them groaning when Eddie’s hand wrapped around Steve’s leaking, twitching cock–Eddie nuzzled into the dip between Steve’s ear and neck, inhaling the scent of his sweat and musk and the faint traces of a clean, fresh cologne valiantly hanging on.

“I, I got this toy. In Indy,” Steve gasped as Eddie pumped him, pulling his cock out as his hand sped up the more Steve spoke. “Worked myself open on it.”

“What’dya think of?” Eddie squeezed.

“You,” Steve keened, jerking into Eddie’s grip.

“Fuck. God. Alright, enough of this.” Standing, Eddie took his hand away and ignored the needy noise Steve made to instead yank the shorts down. Steve only bothered to step out of one leg, having to kick his foot when they got stuck on his shoe. It made his cheeks jiggle. Eddie couldn’t resist giving him a few taps just to watch it again before spreading those cheeks with his thumbs. More dirt smeared over Steve’s dewy skin, but that was only the opening act. The true star of the show glistened with lube and twitched under Eddie’s hungry stare, already loose and used and ready for him. He held himself back from burying his tongue in Steve’s hole, but just barely, letting out a low, hungry rumble instead.

Eddie couldn't move fast enough after that. He grappled with his belt, popped the button of his shorts and shoved them and his boxers out of the way enough for his cock to spring out without help. Then he stepped forward. Eddie let out a shuddering gasp when his aching cock met the searing heat of Steve’s taint and smeared precome along it, echoed when Steve sighed unsteadily as his head slipped up, up, up. Brushed over Steve’s hole once, twice, before catching on the rim.

“Please, Eddie,” Steve whined as he pushed back, and who was Eddie to deny such a pretty request?

He thrust forward and sank into Steve with a slick sound and such little resistance that Eddie’s jaw dropped open in a soundless moan, eyelids fluttering at the hot, wet clench of muscle around him. Another thrust and Steve groaned thickly, his head tilting back so Eddie could see how his bitten-red lips parted deliciously.

“Steve, you good? Please tell me you’re good. Fuck. I wanna fuck you so bad, you feel so good, hot, please Steve,” Eddie begged and rambled, his hands shaking with the need to grab and pull and take.

“If you don’t fucking start right now I’m leaving–”

That was all the permission Eddie needed.

He sank slowly past that ring of muscle and Eddie didn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed about the high-pitched, breathy whine that escaped him. Steve really had prepped, just loose enough and slick enough, but he still took his time. He wanted to savour this, the way he slid into Steve’s tight heat, how the feeling made his legs tremble and his stomach clench. Steve deserved the caution. At first, at least.

“Tell me,” Eddie demanded, needing to talk to distract from the sheer feeling of bliss of being enveloped by Steve. “Tell me about what you were thinking when you fucked yourself on that dildo.”

Steve’s head tilted back with a moan, his brows drawn together, and Eddie longed to bite and lick the strong column of his throat, but he didn’t want to get distracted. He wanted to know.

“I thought about your fingers, first. Those rings, fuck, they drive me nuts. Wish you’d worn them today.” Eddie gave his hips a firm squeeze, fingers spread wide to catch as much soft skin as he could, and grinned when he felt Steve clench around him and heard a stuttering breath.

“I’ll wear them next time, big boy. Wanna see how good they look when I’m jerking you off.” The appreciative groan caused by Eddie’s words was divine.

“God yes. Next time.”

Of course it was then that the phrase sunk in. Next time. Eddie hadn’t even noticed he’d said it but Steve repeating it had something other than raging hormones rising in his gut. He didn’t even have time to process the implication because Steve kept going, and started meeting Eddie’s thrusts with small movements of his own.

“Then I thought about your dick. Y’know, it’s so hard not to stare when you get out of the pool.”

“Did you?”

“Duh.” Steve shot a bitchy look over his shoulder. The usual power behind the look was lost in the bright red flush on his face. It completely fell apart when Eddie shifted and hit somewhere new, Steve’s mouth dropping open with a guttural noise that made Eddie’s cock twitch. “S-shit, it’s so perfect,” he said.

Steve’s head hung loose from his shoulders, forehead resting on the hood of the car, needy, lingering moans bouncing off the metal, breath and sweat condensing on it while Eddie inched further into him every time he slid out and pressed back in. With his palms on the Bimmer, Steve used the leverage to rock into Eddie, the muscles in his shoulders rippling under the white cotton tank starting to go translucent with sweat.

Watching his cock steadily disappear into Steve’s hole was addicting. He leaned back to get a better view of how he split Steve open between the grimy handprints he’d left on the globes of his ass, placed his hands there again and dug his nails in, making Steve’s hips jerk so that Eddie sank the rest of the way with a groan.

“God, Eddie,” Steve mumbled, “fuck, you feel so. So, uh, so good.”

“Y-you too, baby.” Eddie could barely form words. The tight pressure around his cock threatened to end things there and then, but Eddie closed his eyes and breathed, letting the fire and the urge and the want die down to a less immediate threat. But then he opened his eyes, saw how good they looked locked together, the way his darker thatch caught against the lighter brown hairs decorating Steve’s ass, both of them wet from the lube he’d pushed out of his hole, and jesus fucking christ he didn’t want, he needed.

Pulling out slowly and bracing Steve’s hips with a punishing grip was the only warning he gave before snapping forward with a loud grunt, the slap of damp skin a filthy echo in the garage. Steve cried out at the second hard thrust, choked off when Eddie kept going, his hips picking up speed.

“Good?” Eddie gasped. Nodding, Steve uttered a desperate, pleading ‘yes’ that made him fuck into Steve faster.

“Look so fucking hot, Steve,” he started babbling, his voice reedy with pleasure. “God, my handprints on you. Want ‘em to stain, be there forever.” Steve moaned and Eddie felt him tighten around his cock. “Like that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, fuck, I do, I do!”

Eddie leaned forward, draped himself across Steve’s back, and the angle was so fucking good, so much better, and he knew he’d started pounding into Steve’s prostate by the way his gasps had turned into a delicious mix of thin moans and choked out grunts. Fucking him into the car, Eddie let his hands roam. He rucked up the tank top, watched as the last of the dirt on his hands smeared over Steve’s perfect, scarred skin like loving and greedy claw marks. Finding a nipple, he pinched and squeezed until Steve writhed and squirmed.

Then Steve reached up. Buried a hand into Eddie’s hair, grabbed a handful and pulled.

“Oh fuck!” Eddie whined, his hips stuttering, the pain mixing with pleasure and zinging down his spine.

Steve chuckled, unsteady and breathy but so self-satisfied. “Thought about this… for so long, Eddie.”

“Thinkin’ about me so much, sweetheart. I’m honoured. What, hah, what did you think about?” he asked into Steve’s neck, lips catching on his skin, tempting him to lick, to bite. He did, groaning at the taste of salt.

“This. On your couch, by the pool, my bed, anywhere. Been desperate for it.” Steve pulled Eddie closer by his hair while he bounced back on Eddie’s cock as if to prove it. “Or, shit, bending you over that throne of yours and fucking you into it.” Eddie let out a pitchy whimper and Steve cooed in a way that could’ve been condescending but instead made Eddie melt. “But now, now that I know the kinds of fucking sounds you make–t-there, yes–I wanna take you apart. Slow a-and gentle until you’re a mess–”

He cut himself off with a broken moan. Eddie’s hips kept up their brutal pace with short, sharp, hard thrusts, the sound of their sweat-slicked fucking and and the jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle filling the room. His brain was nothing but static. The image was stuck in a loop like the end of a record left to spin. Eddie heard a desperate, animalistic whine and realised it came from himself.

“Close, baby?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded frantically, his lips dragging through beads of sweat dripping down his neck. He’d been holding it off, the fraying coil threatening to snap, his balls aching as they slapped into Steve’s asscheeks.

“You?” Eddie wanted to beg for Steve to be ready. 

“Getting there, just, don’t stop,” Steve gasped.

Twisting, Steve pulled Eddie down to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, fingers tangled in his damp curls. Their tongues met sloppily. Shared panting breaths like trying to inhale each other. Eddie’s thrusts were starting to falter. He was going to shake apart at this rate. Might just shatter when he comes, the pressure and heat and need too much and so fucking perfect.

“Steve,” Eddie whined, and Steve’s eyes met his. “So good to me, Stevie, sweetheart. Feel so wet, fuckin’ beautiful. Nee–mmh–need you, need you to come, please baby, please.”

“Touch me,” Steve said, practically commanded, and Eddie wasted no time.

Spitting in his hand and hoping it was enough, Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s dick, mixing his spit with the shocking amount of precome leaking from the head and spreading it over his length. Christ he was hung. Steve let out a relieved sigh, which Eddie swallowed, smashing their lips together again while fucking hard enough that he rocked Steve into his fist. Steve started making little ah, ah, ah noises. Next time–please let there actually be a next time–he’d worship this cock in the ways he wanted to, the ways Steve deserved, but for now he pumped him mercilessly. Then, then.

Steve seized, a full-body tremble ripping through him as he came, pulsing in Eddie’s hand as he tightened around Eddie’s cock and he was so fucking gorgeous, plush kissed-red lips open in a silent scream, so hot and tight and, and, and–

With a hoarse shout, Eddie came too, rutting helplessly into Steve as he rode out the sparking shockwaves that also had him shaking, the wet sounds between them even more obscene with Eddie’s come slicking the way. He finally stopped when Steve’s whimpers sounded a little too sharp. Breathing heavily, Eddie braced himself on the hood of the car on weak arms to keep himself from collapsing on top of Steve, only letting his head rest in the crook of Steve’s neck where he left one final, achingly gentle love bite.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed contentedly, leaning his head against Eddie’s, their damp hair sticking together.

“Gonna pull out now, Stevie, okay?” When Steve just nodded lazily, Eddie slowly pulled out, both of them groaning at the feeling. And he couldn’t keep himself from parting Steve’s cheeks to see his come dribble out a little, feeling a great deal of pride and greedy satisfaction at the sight.

“Bit late to ask, but you’re still clean, right? After all those tests for the bat bites?” Steve asked, grimacing when he stood up. He was the perfect picture of debauchery, only wearing his rumpled, practically see-through tank top, socks, and shoes, with his hair a wild mess and sweat still dripping from his forehead. The dirty fingerprints and red marks starting to bloom on his neck and hips were Eddie’s favourite part.

“Yep, only time I’ll ever thank those shady government fuckers for poking me with all those needles.” Eddie grinned at Steve’s tired, but fond, chuckle.

Steve looked at the car with heavy-lidded eyes, then did a double-take. “Shit, I gotta wash that off.” There, on the shiny burgundy hood of the Bimmer, was the white splash of Steve’s come, stark against the dark colour. Eddie started cackling and Steve complained, “Dude, shut up, it’ll ruin the paint!” 

“Gonna wash your car without these, Winnie the Pooh?” Eddie bent down to scoop up Steve’s shorts, dangling them from a finger. He laughed when Steve snatched them back with a glare that barely hid his begrudging smile. While he stepped back into them with a wince, Eddie said, “Interesting choice of clothing to work on your car, by the way.”

“Worked, though, didn’t it?”

“What?” Eddie’s eyes narrowed when Steve smiled innocently and shrugged before he wandered off to get a chamois towel and soap. And it clicked. “You planned this? You lured me in with slutty shorts?”

Tossing the towel up and catching it, Steve’s smile widened into something smug. “Yep.”

“Wait. Is the car even broken?”

Steve just offered Eddie another sly shrug and started wiping his come off the hood.

[formosusiniquis]

I'm in chainmail, baby I'm impressed

Squeaking in under the wire for @stevieweek day 4: Special Outfit with bonus prompts: lingerie and DnD/Fantasy. Plus I'm counting this as my @steddie-week Day Seven Free Space

Stevie Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 3217 | M | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: Transfem!Steve Harrington; Transmasc!Eddie Munson; Fade to Black

AO3

It starts with a blouse.

No, that’s not right. It actually started when Stevie asked how earring a suit of armor didn’t chafe, and if a pair of keys could stab through a beer can how were arrows not sending stabby metal pieces into people.

Which actually probably means it really started with layers. Like the extra layer of leather, done up to Eddie’s chin when he called her back. “Make ‘em pay” wasn’t the send off she’d expected after the big boy and other flirting. Flirting that had made her stomach twist and her heart flutter and her brain flinch with the close but not quite of it. But maybe that’s why she’d sent her own return volley. Why she’d grabbed hold of that half done zipper and left Eddie with a pat to the chest and a promise to do just that.

She totally saved his life with that move. Her, the leather jacket, and some extra breast tissue Eddie wasn’t really using, all working together to keep razor sharp fangs from tearing flesh and puncturing any important organs.

That breast tissue maybe saved her too, when she learned just what having it made Eddie and what it meant about options she hadn’t known were there. They had a lot of time to talk in their shared bat bite isolation chamber.

Talk about layers that go under chain and metal to protect knights of the realm and their devoted squires that help them.

That started in the Upside Down, finished in the hospital. And this started in the thrift store.

The blouse was white. Pure white, basically neon, white as the virgin snow. Totally not Stevie’s color, the fresh wedding white brings out the undertones in her skin in a way that leaves her looking sallow and liver failure-y. But something about the sleeve catches her eye. The way  it balloons before gathering at the wrist. 

It’s a 70’s throwback for sure. Reminds her of the cover from the album Eddie brought over a few weeks ago, Little Queen. Robin has her face screwed up before Stevie even has it all the way off the rack. Hating it but trying to be supportive the way she has been throughout all of Stevie’s transition from Steve to who she is now.

“That is… wow!”

“It’s super ugly, and not even in a cool way.”

Robin slumps against the rack, sending a hanger cascading to the floor. She scrambles down to pick it up but Stevie doesn't miss her, “Oh thank god.”

“The best thing to happen to you was my sense of style not changing.”

“I know. You’d look good in anything, but my wardrobe offerings would have shrunk.” Seeming to remember the source of the freak out. She snaggs the shirt. “So what’s with this thing? I think even you’d struggle to make this look good.”

She takes it back from Robin’s disapproving grip. Holds it up to herself just to see the way Robin’s face contorts. The neckline is going to do nothing for her, not low cut enough to show off the way her boobs are coming in. The poof in the arms will accent her shoulders . And it’s so, so white.

“It made me think of Eddie,” she says, fingering the loose tie that’s hanging down the front of the blouse.

“It is very vampire lord,” Robin admits. “Might even make him look tan.”

Layers, knights would wear padded shirts under their armor and under those drapey shirts in cotton and linen. He’d been excited when he’d talked about it. Passionate. The way he got when he talked about Lord of the Rings or DnD. She holds the shirt even tighter against her, turns this way and that even though she can only kind of make out her reflection in the mirror at the end of the row. It’s an ugly shirt. But it makes her think of knights and Éowyn and paladins and Eddie.

Eddie flushed pink and beautiful, squirming in his seat in a different way than he usually does, talking about devotion and pledges. Duty and honor.

“I’m gonna buy it.”

“For Eddie?” Robin asks on a sigh. She already knows the answer.

“He’ll certainly get to enjoy it.”

The problem with being the one to come up with a plan is she has to be the one to follow through with it. 

Part of her knows the blouse would be enough. She could dress it up just right, flirt a little, and have Eddie eating out of the palm of her hand.

But the part of her that had a flair for the dramatic that rivaled her boyfriend’s wasn’t going to let her skimp unless she took every possible step to fully achieve her vision.

So she goes to the only person she knows who might be able to put the final and most crucial piece of the scene together.

Flopped across the Henderson couch, she’s making herself comfortable for her and Caludia’s date with Dallas. She’s too cozy to get up, decides it's easier to flop her head over the arm of the sofa to shout at Dustin while he rummages through the kitchen.

“So if I was trying to get my hands on some of that chain link armor stuff, would you know a drama club nerd who might have some?”

“Yeah, I have some.”

“You have some?” she can feel her eyebrows raised up into the middle of her forehead. She went to him for a reason, but surely she would have known if he was capable of affording something like that. Was that why she was footing the bill at the arcade every week, so he could have suit of armor money?

“Well it's not like it grew in the backyard, I made some.”

“Made some?” she flips around on the couch, this has become the kind of conversation she has to look at her brother and have him be rightside up.

He’s got his hand on his hip which isn't as commanding when he’s also holding a glass of milk in the other. It’s cute though, like he’s trying to channel her.

“What are you an echo? It's not like it was hard. You need some wire and pliers and patience.”

“And you?”

“Har har. Yes. Do you want to borrow it or not.” The threat is there even if she doesn’t think it’s that sincere. It’s fucking armor she doubts he could hide it that well if she wanted to just come in and take it.

But she makes nice anyway cause she’s a good sister. “Yes! Sorry.”

“Ma's got all that jewelry making stuff and you know I like to work with my hands when I'm talking with Suzie.”

“Disgusting.”

It was a joke. But it’s a joke that sends his drink sloshing over the sides of his glass as he startles. A good friend, even if she doubts he’ll ever acknowledge it, she stifles her laugh in the palm of her hand as he turns a shade of red that is medically concerning. 

“Ew, don't be crass, Stevie,” he stutters out.

“Is this even going to fit me,” she takes pity on him, dragging the topic back to her, “you made it for yourself half-pint.” The insult barely works, a summer growth spurt has left sophomore Dustin towering over her shoulder. Well, not towering, but he can see over her shoulder now.

“I made it for Mike, actually, so he could be his paladin at that convention in September. But he wouldn't let me measure him cause I ‘know what he looks like’ and it came out too big.”

“Oh so it'll be perfect for me.” She tries to make it a joke, but hearing that it was made for human stringbean Michael Wheeler has her nervous in the place where all of her ugliest body issues live. At least if Dustin had made it for himself it would have just looked like a crop top.

“Well, it still might not fit because of your,” he gestures vaguely at her front.

“Boobs, Henderson, they're boobs. You can call them-”

“Alright!” He shrieks, “I was trying to be respectful.”

“When have you ever been respectful? And don't say it's because I'm a girl, I'll push you into Lover’s Lake.”

“I wouldn't talk about El’s or Max’s is all I'm saying.” He says into the glass in his hand.

“But I can borrow it?”

“If it fits over your boobs,” he says the word like it's in a foreign language he's neither spoken nor heard, “you can keep it. I know it's for some weird sex thing with Eddie and I don't want it in my closet knowing what it's seen.”

Honestly it's for the best, because if this goes the way she thinks it's going to she really doesn't want to have to figure out how to get stains out of aluminum. But it's hard to resist the siren song of torturing Dustin. “I can't believe you're calling my sex life weird, are you saying there's something wrong with us? That we aren't a normal couple like everyone else? I thought you were a friend.”

“Nothing about Eddie is normal and he'd be offended you tried to suggest he was so I'd feel bad.”

“Yeah, good point loser.” She snuggles back down into the couch, she never really gives the episodes of Beauty and the Beast that much attention but this one should be wrapping up soon. “If it doesn't fit over my tits and it sees zero action do you want it back then?”

“After this conversation, I'm not sure I ever want to see you again. So just keep it. I'm sure Eddie will find some kind of use for it.”

There’s another quip at the tip of her tongue that she knows will send Dustin into fits, whether they would have been of rage or denial she’ll never know. The front door is slamming open bringing with it Claudia at the end of her swing shift.

“Stevie, dear,” she always bustles into the house like she’s carrying an armload of groceries even when it’s just her coming home in her uniform, “never go into nursing. Doctors are some of the dumbest fuckers on the face of the planet.”

It occurs to her, the attitude might be a family trait. Maybe that’s why they adopted her so easily. If only she could pull off the tiny hat the way Claudia can.

All of the pieces of her plan stay hidden for weeks. Folded up carefully in an oversized hatbox in the back of her Mom’s extended closet. The hat, a monstrosity purchased for a Derby she doesn’t think they’d even gone to left to gather dust or whatever it is hatboxes are meant to prevent.

The chainmail had fit. The weight of it as surprising as the cool feeling of it against her fingers.

She has the clothes, the accessories, even bought something silky and golden yellow to go underneath. Like the armor wasn’t going to be sexy enough for Eddie. Lingerie under lingerie like a hat on a hat, but she has to feel sexy or else she’s going to feel like a complete idiot.

She kind of already feels like an idiot. Something in the knowing that the top and the chain and the yellow bra with the flowers embroidered on it are all upstairs makes her anxious in a way she hasn’t ever been with Eddie before.

Hands haven’t been wandering during their movie nights. She keeps her feet kicked back behind her, crossed at the ankle, when they’re sharing a booth at dinner. There’s always a fifteen-going-on-sixteen year old chaperone in the car with them, sometimes even in the front seat as she pretends she’s just making sure they’re getting pre-prepared for their upcoming drivers tests.

And sitting next to him on the sofa, a whole cushion between them for the first time since ever, she watches the careful way he makes each line as he sketches and cross hatches what she can just make out to be a flowing haired knight. Her resolve breaks.

Stevie craves him the way she used to want ice cream on a hot day. The taste and feel of it an almost physical feeling, she would want it so bad. That’s what horny feels like now, she’s slowly realizing.

Before she can overthink it too much more, “I wanna try something.”

Normally she thinks of Eddie as having a kind of feline grace, he slinks and when he does fall off of something he isn’t supposed to be on he grins like it was always the plan to reacquaint himself violently with the floor. But the hint of suggestion in her voice has him perked up on the couch like a dog that just heard his leash come off the hook.

It's embarrassing how badly she wants him.

“What were you thinking, baby?”

He’s better at this than she is, at the lead up. The introduction. It’s a different skill to slowly introduce the concept of the strange, a change. Different than foreplay. She feels like she’s propositioning her proposition. The thing about slow, missionary in a room with the lights dimmed, no bandaids need to be ripped off before.

“You’ve roleplayed.”

“Not the kind I think you’re suggesting.” He’s impossibly more perked. Notebook and pencil still and poised like he’s about to start taking notes. “But I’ll try anything you want to do, however you want to do it.”

Maybe it isn't healthy, but she likes that about Eddie. That he’s all in on her, obsessed maybe. Willing to push himself out of his comfort zone for the sake of letting her have what she wants or try what she thinks she wants.

She likes how a few right words will turn him into putty she can squish and meld between her fingers.

“I’m gonna go get changed.”

Now that Eddie is waiting downstairs for something spectacular, it isn't so hard to pull that box down from its hideaway and slide each layer on. She already knew it wasn’t that hard to get the chain on and off by herself, she had tried it on. Maybe squires were for the heavy metal suits like on Scooby-doo. Or maybe it was about the intimacy and the ritual even back then, sliding on pieces and parts meant to keep the other person safe from harm knowing later if there was a chance to undress again you could see just how you helped save them.

Next time, she thinks, they should do this the other way around. She can get Eddie off a couple times, clean him up, and slowly dress him in each new layer. Until he’s lying in her bed armored in metal and cocooned by her cotton sheets. Safe from anything the world might want to do to him. Under her panties, and the sports leggings she’d decided where the sexier choice of pants, she can start to see the evidence of her arousal in the full length mirror.

It’s a good thing Dustin doesn’t want his stuff back.

Her finishing touches go on next. The gold ring with the small green stone that Robin had given her slides on to her index finger. Then around her neck her holy symbol, the guitar pick from Eddie’s first post-almost dying show. Tossed at her from the stage in an act of Bon Jovi badassery. She had gently poked a hole through it and now she slides it on its dainty, gold chain around her neck.

She tugs at her hair in the mirror, the one part that isn’t quite right. In her vision it’s finally grown out, beautiful waves that would fall out of the ugly helmet she doesn’t have when she pulled it off. Waves like Brooke Shields or the girl from One Day at a Time who married the guy from the band Eddie liked have instead of the bob she’s growing out now.

But it would grow and in the meantime she looked hot.

Stevie looked really hot. Swallowing around the saliva pooling in her mouth, she remembers she has a boyfriend to show that to.

Her first reward is the sight of Eddie's jaw dropped against the floor.

“You remember the other day, you were talking about how paladins could get leveled up so high they basically became gods too?”

Stevie knew that wasn't right, but she liked watching the nerd part of him war with the boyfriend part of him. One itching to correct the mistake and the other looking for a way for her to be correct in a roundabout way. Usually, it leaves him flushed and wide eyed, like his brain is overtaxed and with just a little more stress steam will start to burst from his ears to keep his brain from melting. Last week she had him arguing with the Party that humanoid didn't mean hobbits couldn't also be little rabbits.

She decides to take pity on him now, his wheels skidding blankly on wet road.

“I want you to worship me.”

He's agreeing, she thinks, before he's even sure what he's agreeing to. Dropping to his knees in front of her just like the worshiper she imagined: awe struck and devoted. Her divine intervention on his unfinished prayer kept him alive. Eddie Munson would let her kill him if she wanted to, if it suited her whims.

Good thing she wants to keep him for forever.

His hands slide up the back of her legs. She can feel the hot trail of them from the calf up to the thigh.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Presses a kiss to her knee, her thigh, the chain that covers her hip. “My hero, my knight.”

In the end, she didn’t need the blouse or the bra and panty set. She still has her chainmail on when she eases them both down onto the couch. Running her fingers through Eddie’s hair from his sweat damp temples to the tangling ends she’s careful to keep it from getting wrapped in the links while he rests on top of her.

“I don’t know where you came up with that, my lady, but I think that was the hottest thing to ever happen to me.”

She tugs at the end of his hair just to watch the way the lingering arousal dances across his face. “I got that from the way you creamed your jeans while you were playing with my clit.”

“I am but a man, my golden sun. When a paladin of Apollo is before me what can I do but show my utter devotion.”

“You liked it? It was good for you?”

Maybe it’s a testament to how good it was that Eddie isn’t immediately off the couch. He only shifts enough to rest his chin on her stomach. Looking her in the eyes or maybe at the bottom swell of her breasts.

“Steph, that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re a vision in everything you put on,” he assures, “but where did you even get this?”

“That’s the bad news, if you’re hoping for a better fitting part two I think I’m gonna have to give Dustin my measurements.”

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

Inappropriate Touches

Pairing: Steddie x reader

Warnings: King! Steve Harrington, Personal Knight! Eddie Munson, light to heavy petting, unprotected p in v, bj's, exhibitionism, nipple sucking, fondling, cunnilingus, male masturbation, they get caught (technically), bodily fluid eating, let me know if I missed anything

———

You’d been married to King Steve Harrington for about six months now. It’d been sort of an arranged marriage so your family could become allies with the Harrington royal family.

King Harrington’s parents were still around, but had stepped down to allow their son to take over so they could go off and “see the world”, whatever that meant.

It’d taken awhile for you to get warmed up to the newly made king, and his personal knight who seemed to follow the king around like he was a second shadow.

Both men were intimidating. At least six foot with broad shoulders. King Harrington was more intimidating when he was dressed in all his king attire, fancy dress clothes and shoes with a flowy cape that hung from his shoulders, and often accompanied with a simple crown on his head. And the king’s personal knight, Eddie Munson. He was often dressed in full body armor, a sword on his hip, and a white cape down his back that showed his authority.

Both men seemed to take advantage of your timidness when dressed up, which was often for Knight Munson. They often backed you into a corner and or sandwiched you between them and showered you with praise while their hands roamed.

Overtime, these praises and simply touches developed into more. It was a slow process that you barely took notice of until you were on your hands and knees in your shared bed in King Harrington’s quarters, your eyes blurry with tears as Eddie shoved his cock down your throat and Steve used you from behind.

And as you got more comfortable with these inappropriate touches, the more often they came, especially outside the bedroom.

You’d been called to something important this early morning, so early that the sun hadn’t even risen yet. It was so important that you don’t really remember what it was about. And you were so tired, but you refused to go to bed cause you knew that if you undressed you’d just be redressed the next time someone needed you. So you were in the castle’s library, huddled over in a empty corner as you read a book on a rather comfy couch.

The doors to the library squeaked open and thud shut. You paid it no mind until two sets of footsteps came your way. Before you could see who it was, a curtain of dark, curly hair blocked your view.

You leaned your head back to see Eddie, dressed casually but still with his sword around his waist.

“Whatcha reading?” He asks, a smile on his face.

“Something about dragons,” You answered.

“One where the princess is captured and a knight in shining armor rescues her?”

“Sure,” You tell him, barely even remembering what the book was about cause you were so tired.

Eddie hums, standing to his full height and resting his large hands on your shoulders.

“Where were you this morning?” A voice asks in front of you.

You look up and see Steve standing in front of you wearing a loose, white shirt with some soft looking pants.

“I was called to something this morning,” You answer him.

“Before the sun rose?”

You nod.

Steve hummed, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’ll have to talk to whomever needed you so badly this morning that you were woken up before the sun.”

“Something about trade routes,” You tell him.

“Well they should be able to wait until sunrise for that, or until I get up,” The king mumbles, obviously not too happy about his wife being woken up before him.

“Well, we found you and that’s all that matters,” Eddie reassures Steve, leaning down to kiss along your exposed neck, wrapping his arms around your front to grope at your chest.

You watch as Steve crouches to his knees, sliding his hands under your dress to squeeze at your thighs.

“Oh, this is what you wanted?” You poke at the two men, making eye contact with Steve.

“Of course,” Steve purrs, hands pushing up and up. “We missed you this morning.”

You only hum in response as Eddie starts popping open the buttons on the front of your dress, stopping just below your sternum, he unties the string of the front of your under shirt as well, exposing you. The curly haired man pulls the collar of both shirts so your shoulders are exposed and he starts leaving open mouth kisses along the skin, occasionally stopping to nip and suck at the skin, groping your expose chest as he does.

Steve leans forward and takes your left nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue and sucking on it. He slowly inches his hands around your waist and gently pulls your underwear down your legs. You watch as he stuffs them in his back pocket, a sliver of the lace sticking out. The man meets your eyes, mischief dancing in his eyes before he puts his full attention back on your breast.

Steve switches over to your nipple, leaving your left one wet and exposed to the cool air.

You’re fighting hard to stay quiet, lips pressed together and hand gripping the nape of Steve’s hair. You jump when you feel two fingers venture between your lower lips, feeling the slick that’s been threatening to spill out onto the fabric of the couch. A whimper slips past your lips when Steve’s fingers easily find your clit, gently pressing against the button.

Before you can get too lost in the pleasure, both men pull away from your body.

Eddie moved to stand at the arm of the couch, blocking the view from any prying eyes of the library, and he pats the arm.

You place a bookmark in your book that you’d forgotten about and set it on the nearby end table, awaiting instruction.

“Come here,” The knight instructs. “Hands and knees, sweetheart.”

You do as told, face heating up when you realize you’re face to face with Eddie’s crotch. You glance up at him and await his next movements.

Your attention is drawn backwards when you feel your dress move. You see Steve leaning down to lay on the couch under you, scooching upwards to disappear under your dress. Before his upper body fully disappears under your dress, you watch his hands untie the knot at the front of his trousers and pull them down just enough for him to pull out his erect cock. Steve’s hands disappear down your dress once more, moving to grip your thighs and pull you down.

“Sit,” You hear a muffled order.

You do as told, vulva meeting Steve’s awaiting tongue. Your breathing stutters and you almost slip into that certain headspace but fingers taps your cheek.

Your met with another erect cock, the head tainted a deep read.

“Open,” Eddie tells.

You do, watching Eddie’s cock disappear into your mouth. He stills when a comfortable length is in your mouth.

“Go on,” Eddie nods, encouraging you to move on your own.

You start, bopping your head up and down his length. Every movements back up brings your hips down onto Steve’s awaiting mouth. In which, spurred on by your movements, he starts his ministrations and licks up and down your vulva, dipping in between the folds and flicking against and around your clit.

You feel fingers join his tongue momentarily before a hand disappear from your legs and you being to hear a wet “schlick”, you assume Steve is jerking his exposed cock, simply turned on by the process of eating you out.

You turn your attention back to Eddie, sucking in every time you pull on his cock, earning moans from him and a hand on the top of your head. You feel saliva collect in your mouth and slowly slip from your slips, soaking into the plush cushion below.

You feel Eddie start to move with you and you adjust so your forearms rest of the arm of the couch and you arms can grip at Eddie’s trousers.

The longer you three go on, the louder you three seem to get.

Steve’s moans vibrate against you, making you jerk and grind against him with every noise. With the building pleasure in your abdomen, you can’t help but let moans spill past your vocal chords, the pleasure urging you on for Eddie. And with the harder sucking and faster bopping of your head from you, Eddie can’t help but groan and moan above you, eventually gripping your head with both hands.

The more the knight’s pleasure builds, the more prominent his thrusts into your mouth are. It ends up at the point where Eddie holds your head in place with both of his hands so he can fuck your throat at his own pace.

You sputter and gag, tears blurring your vision and saliva coating his cock and puddling onto the cushion below you. You’re gripping Eddie’s trousers and grinding down onto Steve’s mouth. The moans from both men and the sound of Steve jerking himself off spur you on, and you barely sense the knot in your lower abdomen until it snaps and white hot explodes from between your thighs.

Your moans build in pitch and volume as you cum, thighs shaking and your gripping at Eddie’s thighs, pulling at his pants.

Steve eats you out with vigor and he follows you soon after, the “schlick” growing in volume and speed, breathy moans vibrating against your center. His free hands grips your thigh. You can feel his trimmed fingernails digging into your skin.

As if on cue, Eddie follows both you and Steve in finishing. His thrusts are sloppy and hurried as he fucks in cum down your throat. His moans are more vulgar, groaning and cussing to himself as he rides out his high.

Slowly, even as Eddie stills rides out his high, Steve removes himself from under you. Fixing your dress so it’s not all crumpled up at the back of your knees.

Eddie slowly calms down, pulling himself from your mouth. He gives you a moment to swallow any remains cum and saliva before tapping your lips with the head of his cock. You open and watch as he squeezes the remaining cum from his cock.

As you close your mouth and swallow, Eddie pats your cheek with his fingers and you take that as a sign to settle down, still aware of Steve not fully removed from under you.

You watch as Eddie takes a handkerchief from a back pocket of his and as he wipes off his cock. You keep watching when he tucks his half-hard cock back into his underwear, and when he adjusts and ties his trousers back into place.

Eddie leans down to clean up your face, using a clean area of his handkerchief to clean up your face.

It’s when the handkerchief is back in the knight’s pocket and when he’s in the middle of a deep sigh does a someone clear their throat from around a bookcase.

Both of you jump and whip your heads around to the person.

It’s castle staff, looking nervous and awkward and he just caught you two in a rather intimate moment. He clears his throat again before speaking.

“Have.. uhh… either of you seen the king?” He asks timidly.

Said king removes himself fully from underneath you, his face is flushed and his forehead and cheeks are sweaty. He doesn’t look the slightest bit embarrassed as he sits up and turns to face the staff member.

“Yes?” He asks.

You notice he’s tying his trousers back into place. You had no knowledge of him cleaning himself up or tucking himself away.

The staff flushes and stutters, “Your parents are here, my king. They wish to see you.”

“Very well,” Steve sighs.

He moves to pull you to him so you sit back on your legs. He kisses you on the lips for a few seconds and hums at the taste before getting up, wiping his pants of imaginary dust. Steve moves around the couch to fall in beside the servant as he leads the king away from your corner of the library.

Before following, Eddie pats your cheek and gives you a wink before trotting after the king, curls bouncing on his shoulders.

You watch for a few moments before settling back into the couch. You take a few moments before realization settles in your chest and heats up your face.

You’d just been caught by a servant with both the king and his personal knight.

You heat up some more and bury your face in your, previously forgotten, book as you try to stave down the embarrassment.

[medusapelagia]

Facing the dragon - Part Seven

written for steddiemicrofic Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Prompt: Dress TW: blood and injuries WC: 350

Part one: I’ll make you proud, Part two: Battle cry, Part three: Stupid but brave, Part four: Sorry, Part five: The siege, Part six: The old plug

The acrid smell fills Eddie's nostril as soon as he steps out of the castle with Gareth is at his side, while the horse moves toward the hill where the enemies are waiting for them to surrender.

Most Hawkins' knights are already dead, those who remain are either injured or too old to be a real treat. Now that his son is safe and his husband dead, Eddie’s ready to sacrifice his life for the survival of his people.

The closer he steps to the hill the closer he can see the dragon. Its scales are bigger than Eddie's hand and they shine in the dawn's light like an ocean of gold. Its eyes are huge and deep, and when the dragon tilts its head to the side, Eddie can't avoid thinking it looks like an enormous bird.

In front of the magic creature, Creel, all dressed in white, is grinning.

"Prince Consort. I thought you flee like those cowards." He says, pointing toward the woods.

"I didn’t flee. But I'm here to ask you for mercy for those who did." He simply states, trying to hide his fear.

"Do you really think they deserve mercy? Were they merciful on the battleground? No. And they wouldn’t have been if things were different.” Vecna states coldly.

Eddie was expecting that, but he has a secret plan. Hidden under his cloak there's an ornamental bow with one single arrow. It wasn’t meant to be used as a weapon, but if Eddie manages to hit the dragon where his neck's skin is more delicate, they could still have a chance.

He gets off the horse, giving the reins to Gareth and then slowly grabs the bow engraved with Eddie's family emblems.

Creel laughs, already conjuring a shield around him, but not around the dragon. Eddie’s quick to change his aim and shoot the arrow toward the dragon.

For an instant their eyes meet, and those caramel eyes seem so familiar, but the next moment the dragon is roaring, the arrow stuck in his eye and dark blood pouring down his neck.

Eddie missed.

permanent taglist: @katyawriteswhump

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

my favorite art piece

pairing: knight!steve harrington x fem!princess reader

wc: 777

warnings: none. tis' a clean story.

summary: knight and princess talk about the visiting duke over oil painting.

A/N: another story to my knight!steve series. alone together is the first one but you could read either one standalone.

masterlist

“was hoping i’d find you here. was beginning to worry you climbed the palace walls again and i’d have my head chopped off.” a male voice entered your quiet art room.

barely a glance over your shoulder you knew who was stepping behind you. the gentle clang of his armor and weapon reverberated off the high ceilings.

“i’d never let them do such a thing. can’t waste a pretty face away.” the smirk evident in your words.

the footsteps and clanking stopped just over your right shoulder, “they don’t write sonnets about this face for nothing, princess.”

an unprincessly snort left your nose, “oh do they? you must recite some to me one day. would adore to hear.”

steven hummed, “what is your focus on today, princess? you mostly paint when stressed.”

focused brush strokes paused, ignoring the way your heart beat just a bit faster that he knew something so small about your ticks. “not always. it’s just when… inspiration hits me. and perhaps it may be when i can’t control something.” resuming practiced strokes, a band of fury hidden beneath a poised grip.

“might i inquire what has you… vexed?” steven took two steps over, now in your peripheral.

shades of periwinkle and indigo mixed, “if you must. but mind your words.” speaking slowly, fully concentrating on your work.

“would this have anything to do with a certain duke? one who happens to be visiting for the week?” you ignored the gentle venom of the word duke.

“lord hargrove’s arrival has been known for many days. though his intentions of travel have not been stated until the day of his arrival.” seeing shades of red while adding spots of white.

“i’m guessing-“ “marriage! lord hargrove is here for my hand in marriage. in request of my father and his, for the good of our kingdoms.” stains of paint dripped down the canvas in tears.

“marriage,” steven repeated, you could imagine the slight snare on his face at the word.

“yes, marriage,” a deep sigh from overuse of the word, “to a man i don’t know and is expected to wed in the spring. no choice in the matter.” rinsing your brush in the murky paint water, tapping it against the lip before pressing it onto a cloth.

“not quite fair to expect that of you.” steven grabbed a stool close by to be placed beside you. he was now sitting shoulder to bicep.

you couldn’t help your scuff, “i’m but a woman. they only tolerate us cause we can be sold like sheep and breed like a calf. a single syllable from our lips can bring us death. seen not heard.” your once melancholy painting transforming into a brutal storm, one that brings sailors to the ocean floors.

dropping your brush beside your easil, you finally turn to sir steven. his back straight with knees bent at the perfect angle, a slight spread to the long limbs. forearms resting on thighs while mindlessly tugging at his fingers, head dipped with untamed strands of hair flinging about.

you spoke before you could stop, “let me paint you.” speaking quietly not wanting to disrupt the peace.

steven’s head picked up and met your wondering eyes, “pardon?” a pinch to his brows.

you cocked your head, “let me paint you. would cheer me up.” standing to your feet in search of a spare canvas.

“princess-“ “please? i wish to paint the face people pen poems and sonnets about.” trying to feed his ego.

you heard the deep sigh but saw the little smile before he could wipe it away, “your wish is my command, princess.” starting to move before you rushed over and rested a palm on his shoulder, “stay. the lighting is perfect.”

he peered up, long lashes framing normal brown eyes that held something special. his patches of silver armor cool under your warm palm. “just sit like before, but keep your head up.”

“am i getting a portrait done by the lovely princess y/n l/n? i must be the luckiest man alive.” his sword clicked off the wooden stool leg.

you started collecting more oil colors, “i would say so. and i would also say i’m the luckiest princess alive since i’ll get to stare at you while detailing my work to perfection.” 

satisfied with your supplies and making sure they stay put, you begin your simple outline in black chalk. the simple task is a distraction from your loose words and hummingbird heart.“quiet flattered, princess.” princess said in a low tone that forced you to suppress a shiver. “only the best for my favorite knight.” saying the words only to yourself.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 11

The second one for today.

There is a joust, a wild Eddie shows off his mating dance, and Steve and Jeff plot a romance.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

****

Steve sat on the edge of his seat as he cheered each successful strike the Black Knight made and winced with every hit he took.

The kids were loudly shouting and cheering and even Nancy would leap to her feet when the Black Knight won a match.

It was down to the final match. The Black Knight verses the White Lion. They were two points each. Final run.

The horses pawed at the ground. The knights shifted in their armor as they tried to settle the joints. Every person in that stadium was on the edge of their seat, leaning forward as they held their collective breath.

The man stepped forward with the flag and eyed each knight nervously. He looked up at the king and queen. The king nodded giving his consent. The flag dropped and the man leapt out of the way.

The horses raced down the line as the knights lowered their lances. The audience slowly rose to their feet as the horses thundered toward each other.

No one had yet taken a single breath.

Then...

CLASH!

And the White Lion flew to the ground as his horse made it to the other side of the arena. His squire grabbed the horses reins to stop it from running away.

The whole crowd erupted, the breath finally released in shouts of exultation.

The Black Knight and his squire were at their other end of field, whooping and hollering as they celebrated his win.

Steve and Robin grabbed each other and jumped up and down. They hadn’t seen anything so exciting since Lucas made the final shot of the game.

And it appeared that the boy in question thought the same as he kept screaming “YES!!”

The Black Knight took off his helmet and waved at the crowd. And their entire row let out a gasp.

“Jeff?” Dustin squealed. “Jeff was the Black Knight all along? That is so awesome!”

Now Lucas was completely flipping out. No one could deny that Jeff had won fair and square. That he had the superior skill.

Steve looked over at the king and queen. Neither one of them looked happy to see it had been Jeff the whole time. But they appeared gracious enough when they were handing out the prizes.

Steve was cheering and screaming right along with the rest of them. And it was a cool surprise. Who would have thought that Jeff played his favorite sport.

After the award ceremony they were allowed to go see Jeff at the stable.

Steve looked around when he entered. Jeff caught his eye and grinned. They both knew who he was looking for.

“He’s getting ready,” Jeff said with a wink. “You’ll just not want to miss the next event.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. Whatever it was, he knew it was going to be amazing. He just wished he had more of an idea of what it was. He looked out at the arena floor and saw that the long wooden partition for the joust had been taken down and workers were quickly putting up... what, Steve wasn’t sure.

“Just let me get out of this armor,” Jeff was saying, “and I’ll join you guys in the stands.”

As they walked back to the stands, Robin pulled out her flier of the day’s events and Steve looked over her shoulder.

“What’s trick riding?” he mumbled.

But she just shrugged. She didn’t know either.

They sat up in the stands and they talked among themselves as the workers finished up what they were doing.

The field was mostly empty except a small platform where the rider would mount their horse.

There were two horses, both black with weird looking saddles.

The announcer got up and bellowed into a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted. “For the first time ever here at the Hawkins Renaissance Fair we have Hawkins own Eddie Munson trick riding extraordinaire.”

Eddie stepped out onto the field but gone were the puffy sleeves and thigh high boots. His costume was tight fitting and boots were soft soled. It still looked period, but it was clearly designed from modern materials which would make it easier to move in.

Strapped to his back was a lute, the same lute he had been carrying all week.

He mounted the platform and waved to the crowd.

Eddie got on to the first horse and got it into motion. The other horse merely shook its mane as it waited patiently for its turn.

Eddie raised his feet and slipped them into a set of stirrups higher up on the saddle. Sending a wink Steve’s way, he stood up on the horse and began to play.

He began singing. Horribly. Eddie was a fine enough singer for their band, but it seemed to Steve he was deliberately off key as he sang ribald bar tunes.

He slipped a harness over his head and around his waist. Then to shock of the crowd, slid off the side of the horse. Steve was on his feet, so sure that Eddie would be crushed under the thundering hooves the galloping horse.

But as the horse turned, Steve could see that Eddie was safe and still playing.

His caterwauling got progressively worse the more dangerous the stunt was. Almost as if he was signaling to the audience that he was safe.

He made it back to the platform where he handed the lute off to someone who had stepped out onto the field for the reason. They removed the saddle off the one horse Eddie had been riding and he straddled both horses, one foot on each.

And off he went racing around the arena.

Steve was sure that his heart had stopped several times, once with every trick Eddie did.

He was also pretty sure that wasn’t good for it.

But Eddie landed every trick like a pro and at the end he hopped off the platform with a jaunty wave and a deep bow.

Steve was cheering up and down as the crowd around him erupted with applause.

Eddie bowed again and with the other guy that had taken his lute, lead the horses away.

Steve isn’t sure who was more impressed by Eddie’s riding the kids or Nancy. Her jaw had dropped from the first trick and remained that way all throughout Eddie’s riding.

“Where did he learn that?” she asked.

Jeff grinned. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Everyone exchanged glances as the whole gaggle followed Jeff back to the stable where Eddie and the other guy were brushing down the horses Eddie had used in his show.

The man, who on closer inspection was a teenage old boy spotted Jeff and waved. “Jeffrey! You did great out there today. Mom hasn’t stopped gushing about it.”

The Party turned to Jeff in shock. But he just chuckled.

“Guys,” he said, “this is my little brother Ollie. Ollie, you remember Gareth and Brian, the boys are Hellfire, the girls kick ass, and the two guys are the brat wranglers.”

Jonathan and Steve shared a look before they chorused, “Hey!”

Eddie laughed, but did the proper introducing. When he got to Steve, Ollie’s eyes went wide and nodded.

“Steve Harrington,” Ollie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Steve frowned. “From Jeff?” he asked, confused.

“No, man,” Ollie said with a laugh, “from Eddie.”

Who promptly ducked behind his horse under the guise of brushing its mane.

Steve licked his lips slowly as a sly smile took over his face. “No doubt only horrible things,” he teased.

Eddie let out a squawk and glared at him from around the horse. “Hey!”

Steve laughed and Eddie let out a little huff of breath as he pouted.

“Our parents own the horses,” Jeff said, “We have three that joust and two the trick ride and then there’s King, who was a racehorse in his heyday.”

Ollie nodded, “We usually let whoever is playing the king of the Fair ride him at the closing ceremonies. He’s pretty as hell.”

“So like Steve,” Dustin said. “He used to be called King Steve in high school.”

Steve tipped the twerp’s hat off.

“Hey!”

El giggled and Dustin’s head whipped around to face her. She pressed her lips together and looked up and away.

“Can I see King?” Will asked, softly.

Ollie lit up. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Jeff. “I’ve got get him ready for tonight anyway, so I can I have Will help me?”

Jeff smiled at his little brother. “Sure thing, it’ll make the work go faster.”

“He seems like a good kid,” Jonathan said, “how old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” he said, “so he’ll be an incoming freshman this year.”

Lucas smiled. “So a year younger than us.”

Jeff nodded.

“Is he going to join Hellfire?” Dustin asked, practically vibrating out of his skin.

“He wants to but with me graduating last year,” Jeff said with a wince, “he’s worried he won’t know anyone but Gareth.”

Lucas grinned. “Well he knows us now, we’ll hang out with him all summer so that come school time, he’ll have friends in Hellfire.”

Jeff grinned back. “I think he’d really like that.”

Steve smiled at his nuggets. He was glad that they were willing to take this kid they just met under their wing and make sure he didn’t get lost at high school.

He really couldn’t have been prouder. He caught Eddie’s eye and the other man grinned.

He lopped over to Steve, the grin never leaving his face.

“So pretty boy,” Eddie teased. “You enjoy the show?”

Steve nudged him his shoulder. “Of course I did. A bit terrifying on this side of things though.”

Eddie laughed. “I assure you, sweetheart, it’s equally terrifying on my end, too.”

“How long have you been doing this then?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and thought about it. “On and off since I got to Hawkins and became friends with Jeff. His mom is the one that thought me, but I’ve only been serious about it in the last couple years. As a way to keep myself from getting too depressed about school.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said.

When he looked around most of them had gone. It was only Robin, Gareth, Jeff, and Max that remained.

“Where did everyone go?” Will asked as he came out the stall with Ollie.

Robin began counting of on her fingers. “Brian and Mike went to go watch the caber toss on the outskirts of the Fair. Dustin, Lucas and El went to go watch the sword fights. Nancy and Jonathan went to try the ax throwing.” She looked around. “Did I miss anyone?”

The rest of them shook their heads.

“And the rest of us were waiting for Will!” she finished with a cheer.

Will blushed and Eddie and Steve shared a knowing glance.

“Hey, do you and Ollie want to come with me to see the bagpipers?” Max asked Will.

Will and Ollie looked at each other and then nodded as one. The two boys followed the pirate queen, walking side by side.

“Well,” Gareth said, “I’m glad Mike missed that one.”

Robin looked over at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Mike is always jealous of anyone who spends time with Will,” Steve explained, “except El. Even if he spends all his time with her, he still gets jealous when Will gives up and goes to talk to someone else.”

Eddie nodded. “That kid has got to get his head out of his ass, before a sweet boy like Ollie sweeps our Will the Wise off his feet.”

Jeff grinned. “I like that idea!”

Gareth snorted. “You only like that idea because Mike called your thief a common rogue.”

“My thief is literally a lord,” Jeff defended. “Like Lord Kelnic is his name. He can’t be a common rogue.”

Steve leaned over to Eddie and whispered, “What are they talking about?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Eddie whispered back.

Steve nodded, knowing that Eddie would do just that.

“Hey, you want to go for a stroll?” Steve asked. “I don’t care where, really. I just want to spend the afternoon with you.”

Eddie perked up. “Hell yeah! Why don’t I show the behind the scenes stuff most people don’t get to see?”

“Sounds perfect.” Steve smiled.

Robin and Jeff shared a fond glance about their best friends and shook their heads as Eddie led Steve away.

****

Part 12 Part 13

I love jousting Eddie as much as the next gal, but I also realize that Eddie looks like a stiff wind would knock him over and would be flying out of that saddle with every hit. So I made him a trick rider instead.

I also did not set out to write Will a love interest, the love interest just shoved himself into my story and I let him stay.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

「 fantasy au masterlist 」

here is a list of all of the stories I’ve written that are in a fantasy au.

return to the main masterlist

fused with the foe (king!steve rogers, series, original fantasy world)

the wistful wyvern (knight!bucky barnes, series, original fantasy world)

soot and sparks (blacksmith!peter parker, series, original fantasy world)

witch!reader x eddie munson (au)

angel!steve harrington & devil!eddie munson (au)

tiny (miguel o'hara x fairy!reader, blurb)

maroon (vampire!remus lupin, blurb)

my little flower (warrior!din djarin, blurb)

can’t fight the moonlight (werewolf!bucky barnes)

the shadow's soul obsession (demon!bucky barnes)

snow white (dark!prince!billy russo, miners!steve rogers, bucky barnes, thor odinson, miguel o'hara, marc spector, matt murdock, frank castle)

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble

[rigginsstreet]

billy shouldve lived just so he could keep giving steve shit even as hes saving the world

"ooo look at harrington wielding a bat twirling it all around"

"ooo steve making molotov cocktails what are you, rambo?"

*steve carrying billy to safety after he got attacked by creatures* "ooo mr knight in shining armor over here wheres your white horse"

and steves like "do you ever shut up?!"

and billys like "i can think of one way to get me to, sport 😏"

and thats how i wouldve written season 4 personally

[bleedingoptimism]

𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘚𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 

𝗦𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗮𝘆

Someone is knocking on his door when Eddie wakes up from his impromptu nap at 4:30 in the afternoon.

Although there’s nothing impromptu about his nap since he literally spent the whole day in bed feeling sorry for himself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, past self who thought it’d be funny to write about his knight in shining armor when high as fuck.

He knows the knocks are either the kids, here to beg him not to cancel the campaign, or Steve, coming over to let him down easy. And he doesn’t want to deal with either one.

He’s just so embarrassed, and like, he knows Steve won’t laugh at him. He will a little, probably, but not meanly.

It’s just the ‘This is flattering Eddie, but I don’t feel the same’

It's the ‘I hope we can still be friends’

It’s the ‘I care about you but not that way’ of it all Eddie really fucking hates.

The knocking hasn’t stopped and it’s getting more insistent so Eddie sighs and gets up. Time to face the music, he supposes.

He opens the door so hard it bumps into the wall, revealing a slightly surprised Steve outside.

“Harrington,” he says and turns, walking back inside. He flinches once he’s turned at the thought his dramatics might have left a dent in their brand new government-hush-money-bought house.

How is he going to explain it to Wayne?

‘Sorry about the wall Wayne. I needed to do the equivalent of slamming the door shut but while opening it before I got rejected.’

Steve walks in behind him and closes the door softly, following him to the kitchen where Eddie is leaning against the cupboards with his arms crossed.

Steve leans against the counter right in front of him. The kitchen is nice but leaning on the smaller side, so there’s not much room between them. Eddie watches as Steve takes a neatly folded paper out of his pocket.

And his shoulders go all the way up to his ears when he sees it’s the character sheet. Steve delicately unfolds it and puts it beside him on the counter, straightening it with his hand, softly, caringly.

‘Why?’

It makes Eddie nervous, “If you’re here to laugh at me, just get it over with already,” he tells him.

Steve looks at him, smiles kindly, and then his smile gets bigger and bigger until he’s chuckling, but still kind, “I’m sorry but,” he breathes, “Harry Stevenson? Really?”

Eddie snorts, unable to help himself. It's so dumb.

“Who would that make you? Manny Eddinson?” Steve says, outright laughing now.

Eddie starts laughing too, “Yeah, okay, okay. Laugh it up Harrington,” he says, completely red in the face and motioning with his hand in a ‘go on’ gesture.

Steve shakes his head, “No, no, it’s Stevenson to you,” he says, but then he sobers up, shaking his head again.

“Wait, sorry. I didn’t come here to laugh at you Eddie,” he tells him, standing up straight, making the distance between them seem shorter, “I came here to tell you something.”

Eddie sighs and looks at the floor, at Steve’s white snickers at his own bare feet.

“Let me guess,” he says, “You’re flattered, but–”

“I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

He stares at Steve. Stares and stares, but Steve is just looking at him, biting his lip with a faint blush adorning his cheeks.

“Is this real?” Eddie asks him in a whisper.

And Steve points at the sheet, “Is this?” he asks him.

Eddie blushes even more and nods once.

Steve smiles bashfully and takes one step closer to him, “So, can I keep it?” he asks, and it takes a minute for Eddie to figure out he’s talking about the character sheet. It’s hard to think when Steve is standing so close.

“Can I keep you?” Eddie blurts out.

Steve’s whole face illuminates with the brightness of his smile, and he lets out a small noise, a happy little hum of a sound that Eddie knows he’ll dream about for the rest of his life.

Steve lifts his hand and moves Eddie’s hair away from his face. He grazes his cheek as he tucks a few strands behind his ear, smoothes them when he gets to his shoulders. He continues to trail his fingers down his arms, all the way to his hands and takes them, holds them.

“Is this real?” Eddie can’t help but ask again.

“It is if you want it to be,” Steve answers easily.

Eddie nods and closes the distance between them with a kiss.

And Steve chuckles because Eddie didn’t actually stop nodding before attempting to kiss him, so he has to chase his mouth up and down for their lips to properly touch.

They both end up giggling into each other's mouths, but then Eddie takes a deep breath through his nose and tries again.

He grabs Steve’s face with both hands and inclines it for a better angle, deepening the kiss, exploring the inside of his mouth with his tongue, and then sucking Steve’s own tongue into his mouth.

Steve moans and pushes Eddie into the cupboard and Eddie retaliates by pushing Steve back and crouching slightly to grab the back of his thighs and lifts him. Steve yelps and laughs into his mouth as Eddie places him on the counter and Steve opens his legs to let Eddie stand between them.

He hugs him, burying his face on his neck and Eddie circles his waist with both arms and presses himself flush against his chest.

Steve sighs and then moves back a little to look at Eddie. He moves his hair out of his face again, lifting his bangs, and kisses his forehead, and then his nose and his cheek once, twice, three times quickly, and Eddie laughs.

“I wanted to do that for so long,” Steve sighs, still holding Eddie’s face between his palms.

“You? Wanted? Really?” Eddie stammers, because his brain left the perimeter a long time ago.

Steve giggles and leans in, touches their foreheads together, and nods.

“Steve…”

“Mmm?”

And Eddie kisses him again because he doesn't know how to say what he wants to say. He kisses him and he hopes it gets the message across. He kisses him and he lets his hands talk, his lips confess, his body speak.

He pours everything into it and when they pull apart to breathe, Steve whispers, 

“Take me to bed” And he knows Steve understood him.

The sun is gone when they get back to the kitchen, wearing each other's boxers, with Steve also wearing one of Eddie’s shirts, and fuck does it look good on him. He tells him as much as he kisses his cheek and hands him a glass of orange juice.

Steve is back to sitting on the counter, and Eddie groans when he sees he’s looking at the character sheet that’s still laying innocently beside him.

He steps between Steve’s legs and Steve immediately makes room for him, putting one arm around his shoulders and pushing the paper out of Eddie’s reach with the other.

“You really want to keep it?” Eddie asks against his neck and kisses a bruise he left there a couple of hours earlier.

“It’s so embarrassing! I was high and pining and a little horny…”

Steve laughs, and buries his hand in Eddie’s hair, scratching the back of his head, “Of course I want to keep it! It’s probably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Well, that’s just sad,” Eddie snorts.

“Shut up,” Steve tells him and pulls at his hair, making him groan and then laugh.

He moves back an inch or two to kiss Steve’s cheek and catches him still staring at the paper, tracing where his name it’s written backward,

“You have no idea how happy this made me,” Steve whispers, and Eddie fucking melts at the way his voice sounds, oh so tender, “When Dustin showed it to me-” 

But something clicks when Steve says that. Dustin said he hadn’t looked at it, the little shit. 

“Oh, I’m going to fucking kill that gremlin.” 

Steve laughs, “Don’t be too mad at him,” he tells him, rubbing his hands up and down his back, “Yes, he did something shitty, but he just wanted to help.”

Eddie just grunts in response, his mind going through a hundred different scenarios of how to punish him.

“I was never going to confess to you Eddie,” Steve admits.

“But he knew I liked you and thought I needed some encouragement. That’s why he showed it to me.” 

“You told Dustin you liked me?” Eddie asks him, smiling.

But Steve snorts, “No. The little shit accidentally overheard me.”

That prompts an ugly laugh out of Eddie and then they are both laughing again and then kissing again and again and again until the moon is high in the sky and their eyelids are heavy.

They go back to Eddie’s bed, Steve on his back and him between his legs, head resting on his stomach.

“I quit Hellfire,” Eddie murmurs sleepily.

Steve hums, “Of course you didn’t. But I don’t think it’s a bad idea to wait until Dustin apologizes before you come back. Make him sweat a little.”

Eddie chuckles and moves to bite Steve’s tummy right above his belly button before kissing the spot and resting his cheek over it again, “God, I love you.”

Steve pinches his shoulder lightly for the bite, “Love you too,” he answers back and after a moment he asks,

“Should we tell them?”

“It’s up to you,” Eddie tells him, “They already know I’m gay.”

“Really?” Steve asks him, curious.

“I noticed Will was struggling with it, so I made one of my characters gay just to test the waters. I made it clear there was nothing wrong with him, or me. And when they had questions I answered them and-”

He gets interrupted by Steve pulling him by his face and kissing him soundly.

“That was so nice of you. So fucking brave,” Steve tells him between kisses.

“You make me feel brave,” he confesses.

So yes, it’s up to Steve when he wants to tell The Party, because he knows, he’s sure, whatever comes their way, they can deal with if they’re together.

𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘂𝗲𝗱

part 1: ❤️

part 2: 🧡  

part 3: 💛  

part 4: 💚    

part 5: 💙  

part 6: 💜

part 7: 💗

☕🥐💕

[inkluvs]

fields of white clover

knight! steve harrington x fem!princess!reader

content warnings: time period discrepancies. cinderella reference kinda. royal au. steve is literally obsessed with you. hopper as a father figure. this is pretty much just world building.

summary: steve catches sight of you at a ceremony and finds you fascinating <3

a/n: posted 2 months or so ago originally (copy and pasting the original a/n bcos most of it still applies), i wanna thank @maddipoof for being my cheerleader n figuring out all of my incoherant thought with their super special decoder abilities <3 also @livingintheupsidedown ; @crappymixtape ; @ghostlyfleur ; @forevermoreharrington ; @theemporium ; and @beezywriting since they all read bits of it i was unsure about <3 also this is just the set up for future stuff and nothing really happens <3 it's just steeb being sorta head over heels for u <3

part one // series masterlist // taglist

You didn’t quite understand what you were doing with hundreds of nobles and servants around you. You knew what it was, of course, a ceremony; the kind you were required to be at to prepare you for your future, but you'd been spared any more details. It was funny, the way you’d been told that your presence was of the utmost importance this time in particular and still you had been given no details on why you had to be there, nor were you given details on why you couldn't sit in your regular seat. 

You normally wouldn’t mind it, the extent to which you’d been kept in the dark, but it would be helpful to know why there were so many pairs of leering eyes, staring at you like they were waiting for you to mess up. 

The majority of the time you had a choice. Whether or not you wanted to attend had always been an opportunity you'd chosen to take every time it had been offered. So much so that despite never having been taught about the process of swearing fealty in detail until you were fifteen, you’d been able to recite the oath at any given moment since the age of ten. 

Using your hand to shield your eyes from the sunlight, you noticed a man a couple of meters from you doing the same. He was tall, his hair a honey blonde in the sunlight. Something about him made him look ethereal despite not being able to see the details of his face. The way the light was reflecting off the metal of his armor and towards you, the direction shifting ever so slightly when he turned his torso gave him a sort of glow. There was a dull ache in the back of Steve's eyes. The throbbing only increased as he squinted, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked around. 

The way his curiosity seemed to heighten when he caught sight of you was similar to that of a child when they're told not to do something. It was the way he knew he shouldn't stare, that somebody would reprimand him later, but he couldn't help but think that there was something off about you. He didn’t know how he came to that conclusion, perhaps it was how out of place yet well-adjusted to your surroundings you seemed. It seemed like you’d done this before, so much so that you were bored. 

Steve couldn't if your uninterest intrigued him or offended him, maybe it was both, the irritation leading him to find curiosity in your nonchalance. He also couldn't tell why his train of thought was leading him there, maybe he was just as uninterested and you'd been the first person to openly display it, or maybe he simply found you that captivating. Something about the way you presented yourself was inherently enchanting to him. Suddenly, Steve from his thoughts, the whistle of the wind was no longer the only thing he could hear as heat rose to his cheeks.   

“Something catch your eye?” a familiar voice quipped. Steve shook his head quickly before shifting his attention to his surroundings, almost disoriented before he remembered where he was and what he’d been doing. He looked back to see who’d asked only to realize it was the face of a man he’d half recognized, not quite sure of his name. He turned back to you intending to only look for a second, but once again he ended up staring. The fact that you could so easily immerse him in you, the thoughts circling his mind of things unfamiliar and foreign to him, without even speaking to him was terrifying.  

Somehow, Steve composed himself enough to notice the king’s attempt to gather everybody's attention. In a matter of minutes, everybody had quieted down, waiting for the king to speak as the wind bit at their skin.   

The king took his stance next to you, standing tall above the crowd on the dais with the queen on his arm. He nodded once to the herald and looked across the crowd. The same routine as every ceremony.   

“My beloved subjects,” but you were new, “I am honored by your service and fealty. There is no prouder king than I, standing before you.” A lady in waiting possibly, “Time and again you have shown your strength, honor, and allegiance to your king, your royal family, and your country. You have my endless gratitude.” No, you’re too beautiful for a lady in waiting.

“But I would be doing us all a great disservice if I did not extend my thanks to my daughter,” a duchess, maybe, “The princess.” The king’s words echoed in the pavilion as the crowd muttered with uncertainty. He held his hand out to you, and you stepped forward hesitantly.

She’s the princess.

“The relentless devotion she has shown to our country and our people is beyond words. There is no greater love than that of your princess to her kingdom. I am certain she will be a most beloved queen, and as that time draws nearer, as does her coronation. Your next pledge shall be not only to me as your king but to her as your crown princess as well. I know you will all do well to honor your allegiance to her as she shall to you.”  

Everything seemed to come together in his mind at once, why you had looked so bored and why you struck him as different than anybody he’d ever met before. Now that he thought about it, you must’ve been to at least twenty of these ceremonies, each with a similar if not exactly the same speech and the same people. As much as he hated to admit it, Steve felt a stab of pity for you. He was only able to continuously attend such events since he had a choice, at least the majority of the time. And though he would never say it, out loud he still didn’t always enjoy every one he’d been to.    

And suddenly he was moving forward. He’d found himself lost in thought yet again, unaware of the fact that he'd been moving till somebody behind him bumped into him. His boots suddenly felt tight against the sole of his feet, his legs stiff as he fought the urge to turn around and leave. He wouldn’t do it of course, but somehow the thought of getting closer to you made him jittery. He flexed his palm before squeezing it into a fist, repeating the motion until his muscles became less tense.   

Steve couldn’t remember when he’d started this habit of sorts, just that it was now second nature to him, subconsciously flexing his hand and then squeezing it into a fist when he was trying to control himself or occasionally when he needed to focus. He was doing the latter now, still repeating the action as the leather heel of his boots sunk into the grass, the dirt muddy from rain the previous night. He stopped walking just as abruptly as he’d started, now a few inches from the dais.     

Steve looked at you again, except this time he was close enough to notice the slight pucker in your brow. The sunlight was no longer obstructing his vision as he saw you instinctively straighten your back with the weight of thousands of leering eyes. The pucker in your brow seemed to ease as the crowd dispersed, your eyes raking over the crowd until they caught sight of him staring back at you. Your lips twitched as you considered how you should respond before you decided on simply smiling at him. Steve mirrored your expression, and he felt a sudden sense of relief surging through him at your lack of reaction. It took him a moment to realize you were motioning him to come closer, and another minute for him to work up the courage to do so.  

You slowly lowered yourself off of the dais, praying that nobody was paying enough attention to you to notice before you landed on the ground. The grass crunched under your feet and you. Steve couldn’t tell how but you were more captivating up close. His eyes strayed to the curve of your lips, tracing the soft dip of your waist apparent in your kirtle.  

And suddenly, in a whirlwind of motion, you were gone. Steve looked around for the deep maroon of your dress, turning around until he noticed a scrap of the fabric left behind on the dais. He looked to his left and then his right before carefully pulling the cloth from the nail it had gotten caught on. Looping it around his wrist once, he tied a knot, just tight enough that it wouldn’t slip off. 

It wasn’t wrong, right? He intended to give it back to you, though he didn’t have the slightest clue when that was.  

- 

Steve’s back ached when he woke up. He didn’t know why, and he also didn’t know when he’d gotten back to his bed, but that was something to think about later. Instead, he was worrying about what he’d do with the shred of your dress, which was still on his wrist despite his tendency to move around in his sleep. 

“Are you up yet?” a familiar voice pierced through the momentary veil of silence in the manor. He sat up, fiddling with the fabric in an unsuccessful attempt to undo the knot he’d tied the previous day. Hopper saw the deep maroon of the fabric before he could hide it and Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, waiting for his response. 

“How did you get that?” he paused. Steve opened his mouth to reply but Hopper's eyes went wide as he cut the boy off, “Tell me you didn’t steal it.” 

Steve shook his head almost instantly, appalled that the thought had even crossed the man's mind. Hopper seemed to deflate with relief. 

“I found it,” he explained vaguely. Hopper held back a laugh at the boy's unclear clarification.

“Yeah?” Steve nodded, “who’s is it?” 

And suddenly, over two decades' worth of barriers Steve had built around his vulnerability fell all at once. He looked at Hopper like a guilty little boy, like he’d accidentally dropped and shattered his mother's vase and he’d been caught near the scene. He looked at Hopper like he was scared of his potential response. The intensity of his gaze softened at the boy’s silence. He somehow seemed to understand Steve’s sensitivity regarding the subject.

“I found it on the edge of the dais,” he wasn’t technically lying. 

“You still aren’t answering my question,” Hopper said quietly. 

“You won’t be mad?” the man shook his head earnestly

“I found it at the ceremony yesterday,” Steve paused, thinking over his next words, “It’s from the princess’s dress, got torn on a screw” 

Somehow, when the words finally started falling from his tongue, they wouldn’t stop or slow down, the sentences he strung together becoming more rushed and incoherent with each passing one, the words toppling on top of one another and slurring in his throat as he recalled what had happened the previous day. 

“You should’ve seen her,” he trailed off, his eyes staring off into space as he smiled all fond. Hopper smiled at the boy’s lovesick demeanor, an odd sense of pride filling him with Steve’s vulnerability. It wasn't often that he opened up, so Hopper made sure to recognize it when he did.

“Are you going to give it back?” he prodded gently. Steve nodded.

“Next time I see her, yeah,” he replied, frowning as he did so. Steve hated the uncertainty of it all, the fact that he didn’t know when he’d see you next, or that he didn’t know what you wanted to say to him the previous day. He detested the spontaneity of it and the idea that he didn’t know the next time he’d bump into you, having been used to rigid rules and calculated decisions, yet Steve thought he could get used to it for you.