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scoops-stevie-archive · 1 year

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@outpastthebrakers posted a thing about hospital security guard eddie and er nurse steve and @zerokrox-blog sent in a prompt for a steddie med school au, but despite working in a hospital, i don't know anything about med school other than it's 4 years of schooling and 4 years of residency, so i couldn't deliver on that part unfortunately. but i hope yall enjoy regardless!

"Are you gonna actually do something tonight, or are you just gonna sit there and look handsome like always?"

Steve pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks up from the computer and rolls his eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing, you know," he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "This is the third time you've been down here in the last," Steve checks his watch, "hour. Don't you have a parking lot to patrol or something?"

Eddie only laughs and hooks his thumbs into his belt loops. "Bold of you to assume they let me drive the car, big boy. Nah, Preston drives and I get to be the passenger princess I was born to be."

Steve snorts. He definitely doesn't pay attention to the looks the other nurses are giving them.

"Besides," Eddie continues. He leans his elbows on the counter of the nurse's station. "It's your fault I'm down here so often in the first place."

"Oh really?" Steve raises an eyebrow and doesn't hide the fact that he's checking out the tattoos on Eddie's forearms that are showcased by the short sleeves of his uniform shirt framing his biceps. Hospital uniform policy says minimal jewelry but Eddie's never been one for conformity so his fingers are adorned with rings of different size.

(Hospital policy also says that security staff are, under no circumstances, to physically harm violent patients or visitors, but that policy doesn't say anything about Eddie threatening to dole out a knuckle sandwich or two.)

Eddie tracks Steve's gaze and smirks. He taps his fingers on the counter in a rolling rhythm, his black nail polish accenting the flashiness of his rings.

Eddie leans in a little more (which isn't necessary because the counter is a foot above the desk Steve is sitting at) and almost purrs, public decency be damned, "Because, princess, if it weren't for you, I'd be stuck up in my office doing something boring, like reading." He places a hand on his chest. "As much as I love my dragon hoard of books, seeing your pretty face for twelve hours is a much better option."

Steve blushes and tries to sputter out a response, but the radio clipped to Eddie's shoulder goes off.

Eddie confirms the call and groans, dropping his head.

The moment is all Steve needs to compose himself. "Oh no," he frowns, insincere but his tone teasing. "You have to actually do your job. How awful."

Eddie mouths wordlessly back at him, mocking, but then grins and raps his knuckles on the counter once more, giving him a wink. "Don't miss me too much, sweetheart."

Steve tries to not watch as Eddie walks down the hallway, but god those pants fit him so well. He's always had a thing for tiny, perky asses.

"Steve."

Steve jumps and does not yelp like a child. He turns to see his colleague Jen. Jen's been working in the ER for a few years and is a spitfire with a heart of gold.

"You've been flirting with him for months and neither of you have made a real move on each other. What the hell? The betting pool Trent and Brett have is getting shallow."

The tips of Steve's ears start to burn. "Betting pool?!" He turns his chair around to the guys mentioned and they're very much making an effort not to look at him. "You guys are betting on us hooking up? How old are you, twelve?"

"Stevie," Jen sighs in a dramatic way that reminds Steve of Robin and it makes his heart clench. "You have turned down every single person in the vicinity since you started. Eddie is obviously into you and you're into him. I'm going to say this as nicely as I can because you're my favorite out of all the graduates: Please jump this man's bones so I can get my $50."

"My love life is only worth $50 to you?"

"Steve."

Steve groans and hits his head on the desk.

xxxxxxxx

Eddie outright moans when 7am rolls around and he's finally able to take off his uniform. He shoves the bulletproof vest and his holster belt into his locker and his shirt and pants into his dufflebag to be washed later.

God, he doesn't even want to think about laundry.

After he got the call that pulled him away from Steve, it was like the floodgates opened. Two code violets, one report of a car circling the ASU parking lot suspiciously, and three code browns that ended up being patients sneaking outside for a smoke.

He didn't blame them. With the night he had, he's regretting his decision to quit.

Eddie walks through the automatic doors at the entrance of the hospital after he's changed back into his civvies, and those regrets immediately disappear and his mood brightens when he sees who's waiting for him.

Wayne's van is parked in the drop off zone and the sliding door is opened. A bright grin stretches across Eddie's tired face as he gets closer to his little girl, happily squirming in her car seat and drinking juice out of her bottle.

"Da-dee!"

Eddie lets his bag slide off his shoulder and onto the ground but Wayne picks it up and puts it next to Emma's diaper bag.

"Hi, baby!" Eddie coos as he unbuckles her. "Good morning!" He kisses her cheek and buries his nose in her hair, a chesnut brown like her dad's, and cuddles her close. "I missed you so much. Did you have fun with papaw last night?"

"She fussed a little after you left but I got her settled," Wayne says. He holds up a McDonald's bag. "Decided she was gonna get an early start this morning so I figured yall could use some breakfast."

Eddie's stomach chooses the right time to growl and his mouth waters. Last he ate was a TV dinner around one in the morning. Eddie tells Wayne to pick a spot in the visitor's parking lot and then takes Emma back inside the hospital with him.

He doesn't see Steve when he gets to the ER.

"Hey, Steve hasn't left yet, has he?"

A nurse, Jen, Eddie thinks her name is, looks at him and immediately starts cooing at the (admittedly adorable) baby in his arms that's looking around with curious eyes and drinking her juice.

"Steve's in the locker room getting changed, he's just about to clock out. Who is this little cutie?"

Eddie grins and bounces Emma lightly. "This is Emma, my little monster. She gets all her cuteness from her other dad."

Jen's face falls for a second but before Eddie can ask what's wrong, Emma squeals way too loudly for a hospital at 7:30 in the morning and almost throws her bottle in her excitement.

"Da! Da!"

Steve looks just about as tired as Eddie feels and he can practically hear their bed calling their names. But Steve's eyes light up when he hears who's calling for him and a sort of puppy-like grin takes over his face, dopey and happy.

Emma is already reaching for him and Steve quickly strides over and takes her in his arms.

"Good morning, lovebug," Steve says, enveloping her in the gentlest hug he can muster. He breathes in her natural baby smell and closes his eyes.

Eddie's hand goes to his waist to keep him awake and Steve hums, opening his eyes and leaning into give Eddie a peck on the cheek.

"Morning, baby," he murmurs, all traces of teasing and flirting from the night before gone and replaced with open affection.

Steve doesn’t need to look at Jen to know her jaw is probably on the floor.

Eddie returns the kiss on Steve's lips. "Morning, sweetheart. Wayne’s waiting with breakfast outside. Seems like little miss princess here decided she was gonna wake up early, early today." He tickles Emma's tummy as he says this, causing her to laugh around her binky and try to push his fingers away.

"Food sounds so good right now," Steve practically whines.

Jen is still staring between the three of them. Steve smiles sheepishly.

"Sorry you didn't win your money. I should’ve told you, Eddie and I have been together for years. Emma's our daughter." He shifts Emma in his arms and gives everyone a wave. "I'll see you guys later."

He and Eddie walk out of the hospital hand in hand. They eat their breakfast in the parking lot and Wayne follows them to their house to stay up with Emma while Steve and Eddie get some much needed sleep.

When they go back into work later that evening, they fess up to everyone and Eddie gives Jen $50 right from his own wallet.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie dads #cj talks #cj writes

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eddiezpaghetti · 3 months

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It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.

#byler #Part 2 I fucking guess.#Wasn't planning on making a Part 2 but here we are.#I seriously just want you guys to feel safe.#I'm not naive. I do not say any of this shit lightly.#But I've been around the block long enough to know what queerbaiting looks like and this ain't it. Promise.#Will's already been confirmed as in love with Mike for fuck's sake. You don't think the other half of the equation's gonna follow through?#There has only ever been one other situation where I've gone 'Okay this is going in gay places' with no doubt whatsoever without being told #And that was with Daja in Tamora Pierce's 'Will of the Empress' when I read it at like sixteen or whatever #and she wound up having whole-ass fuckin' gay sex.#I was right then and I'm right now. I swear.

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justmeinadaze · 4 months

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Little Girl Gone Part 2 (Steddie X You)

Part 1 Here

Warnings: Mafia Gangster Eddie/ Officer (Slightly Mean) Steve/ Fem Doctor Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, degrading (lightly), choking, spanking, Slight FLUFF, they like her

ANGST: Obviously (and not just cause I'm me), Boys interrogate Andrew (mentions of punching him and making him bleed, stabbing his hand), mentions of shootings, mentions of Child Abuse (definitely trigger warning), Eddie talks about an incident with his father that lead to him "getting his ass beat", mentions of Andrews abuse upbringing. Eddie talks about his fears of having another partner brought into his particular life style. Steve get a little short with the reader in the beginning but he apologizes. Cliffhanger ending again because I can :)

Word Count: 6818

“Not if we shoot you first.”

At Eddie’s words, you cocked the gun and pulled the trigger.

The man in front of you screamed in pain as Steve grabbed his arm and pried the weapon from his hand, shoving him to the ground. He hastily passed it to the gangster before stepping over the person you had just shot in the shoulder.

“Y/N, give me that.” The adrenaline and fear of what you just did coursed through you as your hands shook. You knew he was speaking but you couldn’t understand a word. “Y/N! GIVE ME THE GUN NOW!”

A heavy exhale left his lips as you pointed the weapon at him causing him to pause as he held his hands up once again.

“Honey, everything’s ok. Hey, look at me. No. Don’t look at him. Focus on me, baby.”, Steve cooed as your eyes constantly flicked to the gangster in pain and bleeding on your living room floor. “I’m sorry I shouted. I’m not angry with you and neither is Eddie. Right, Ed?”

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

“See? You did good, baby girl. Now, remember what we said about letting us take control?” Tears began to stream down your cheeks as you nodded eliciting a soft smile from him. “Good. That’s good. Can you let us take care of this for you? Can you give me my gun, Y/N?”

Slowly, he inched closer to you, extending one of his hands as he continued to whisper praise.

“Good. Good, baby. You’re so brave. I’m going to grab the gun now, ok?”

You nod your head a bit to aggressively and once again he smiles as he reaches for his weapon. After gradually removing it from your grip, Steve yanks you to him as he firmly presses your face into his chest.

“Everything’s going to be ok, Y/N. I promise. Stay right here with Ed and I’m going to grab my radio real quick just to make sure no one calls in the noise. I’ll be right back, ok?”, he instructed, running down the hallway once you confirmed.

“Hey. How did you know where we were?”, Eddie growled from his place on his heels beside the other man. When he didn’t respond, he roughly grabbed his collar and tugged him upright. “Answer me.”

Andrew spit in the gangster’s face and he threw him back down, kicking him in the stomach for good measure.

“Alright, here’s some pants, honey. I want you to get dressed and put on some shoes. You’re coming with us.”

“We should take her to my loft. The boys and I can watch out for her till we get all this resolved.”

“Am I not safe?”

Both sets of eyes turned to glance your way at your question and before they said a word you knew the answer.

“Definitely not now after you shot one of Jason’s men.”, Andrew laughed sarcastically. “As soon as he finds out, he’s going to send people to rip you apart, you fucking whore!”

Steve stepped towards him, pressing his foot against the bullet wound making the man howl in pain.

“Shut. Up.” After his last word, the officer punched him in the face so hard it knocked the man out. “Y/N, come on. I need you to focus! Put these on and grab your shoes—”

You palm collided with his cheek hard and Eddie hastily placed himself between you two.

“This is all your fault! I told you I never wanted to see either of you again!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you protesting last night!”

“Fuck you, Steven!”

“You don’t get to fucking call me by my name like that, little girl. You will show me the respect I fucking deserve!”

“HEY!”, Eddie bellowed, silencing you both. “Steve, grab this asshole and put him in the trunk of your cruiser. We’ll interrogate him in my building. Do you think you can manage that?”

With his eyes never leaving your own, he nodded before turning to do what the gangster commanded. Once the officer was out of sight, he faced you, gaze and tone equally as intense.

“Put on your clothes and pack anything you may need for the next couple of days. After we find out how he knew where we were and make sure it’s safe, you can come back home.” When you started to protest, his eyes darkened to a level that told you it was time to listen. “This isn’t a negotiation. You’re coming with us. Now, we’ll be leaving in 15 minutes whether you have a bag or not so I would stop wasting time and do as we say. Do I make myself clear?”

Scoffing in annoyance, you begin to head towards your bedroom to pack but a ringed hand abruptly grabbed your bicep holding you in place.

“I said do I make myself clear? I don’t like being ignored.”

“And I don’t like random gangsters breaking into my apartment.”, you sass.

His eyes continued to bore into yours as his grip remained steadfast; neither of you willing to back down.

“This is the second time in two days you’ve saved my life.” Eddie’s sentence threw you off guard as a shaky, nervous breath escaped your lips at his change in tone. “I’d like to return the favor by saving yours.” Releasing his hold on you, you gave him one final glance before running to your bedroom.

***

The Munson gang ran an entire area of Hawkins but the head himself had an entire building dedicated to him and his business. It was common knowledge that this was a place meant for certain people for certain reasons but rumors around town said police could never get a warrant or find anything incriminating to seize it and arrest people inside.

“Stay by me and don’t say a word.”, Eddie commanded, flashing you a comforting smile when you nodded.

Steve parked his cruiser around back, taking a side entrance so no one would see him going in, let alone with one of the rival gang’s men over his shoulder.

As you entered through the front door, the gangster’s entire demeanor shifted into a more authoritative one as he stood up as straight as he could and hardened his features.

“Hey, Mr. Munson. We were really worried about you.”, a doorman greeted at the front desk.

“I’m fine, Marcus. No reason to worry. I’m going to my loft; can you make sure no one bothers me? I don’t care if it’s the fucking mayor. Tell ‘em Edward Munson is busy.”

“Yes, sir.”

You watch with wide eyes as he motions for a man in a security uniform with his finger and whispers something you can’t hear into his ear. As you both stroll towards the elevator, a bunch of men run past you and exchange words with the man before disappearing from your view.

As the doors close, Eddie pushes the top floor button, noticing your eyes scan the other floors.

“These two floors are for men that work for me. Most of them are people who can’t afford homes or a place to stay so I set them up here. This one is for the kids and people to relax. There’s a pool there and a bar for everyone to have a good time. In this job you need to know when to let go and let your hair down.”, he smiles softly as he continues. “The floor above that is where we keep supplies and do planning if we need to. I have an office there as well that I work from when meeting with partners and things like that. And this…”

The elevator door dings as it opens to a small hallway leading to a door that the man opens and gestures for you to enter.

“This is my apartment.”

Your jaw drops as you step inside and marvel at the gothic style décor of the massive space he called home. There were many feets of open space filled with black furniture to match the setting. Along the walls were different guitars as well as media posters including multiple bands you imagined were his favorites. Near the open kitchen area was a set of stairs that led directly to his open bedroom where you were able to see a huge comfy looking mattress next to a window and a nightstand with some books you couldn’t make out from where you were standing.

“This place is gorgeous.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Definitely a step up from a trailer.”

Steve banged the front door open as he wrestled with the man in his grip and tossed him roughly to the floor.

“He was awake when I opened my trunk.”, he grunted in frustration as he headed towards the dining room table to grab a chair.

“Y/N, why don’t you put your stuff on the couch and go to that fourth floor I mentioned. There’s a kitchen and you can—”

“I’d like to stay…please…”

Eddie’s eyes scanned you carefully as he delicately took hold of both your arms.

“Pretty girl, what’s about to happen isn’t going to be pleasant. You’ve already dealt with and seen enough these past few days.”

“I’ve seen a lot most of life.”, you breathily chuckle. “Especially in my field. I just…this involves me to and I want to know how worried I should be. Plus…”, you glance towards the officer who was tying the rival gangster to his seat. “I’m scared and I feel like the safest place for me to be is next to you two. You promised me that…that you’d keep me safe.”, you whisper.

After pushing some of your hair behind your ear, he kissed your forehead before heading towards a closet off to the side. As Steve backed away from Andrew, it was just then that you noticed his chest was bare except for his holster making you salivate at how delicious he genuinely looked. The sound of his throat clearing brought you back to reality when your eyes landed his smirking face.

“Caught you.”

“I was, um, I was looking at your abs—”

“I bet you were.”

“At your bruises, officer.” His grin grew as he placed himself in front of you. “You’re going to aggravate your wounds if you keep doing things like this.”

“Doing what? Lifting people over my shoulder?” His strong palms take hold of your hips, picking you up, and placing you on the kitchen counter nearby. “I think I’ll be ok. Look, I’m…I’m sorry I was short with you back there. What you did was incredibly brave.”

“I forgive you. I’m sorry I smacked you.”, you murmur as you cup his face causing Steve to sigh happily as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Are you sure you want to be here for this, honey? It’s not just what we’re about to do to this man but who we have to become.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise when he feels your lips softly connect with his own before his eyes open again to meet yours.

“I want to see it.”

Nodding, he removes his holster and places it beside you just as Eddie comes up beside him, handing him some brass knuckles.

“I want you to know, Y/N, that what you are about to see is NEVER a way we would talk to or treat you. You never have a reason to be afraid of us.”

Eddie’s tone was a mixture of soft but strong as if he desperately needed you to understand this. It made you wonder if past relationships they had been in especially himself were scared away by the behavior they were about to display. Or maybe this particular man had experienced behavior like this on himself from someone he trusted.

Again, you weren’t sure what it was about these men but you trusted them when they said this even reaching for the gangster’s face and kissing his lips.

Flashing one last comforting smile, you watched as their faces slowly fell, their eyes darkening as they slipped into a particular headspace and turned around to face the unlucky man tied to the chair.

***

“You know, I think it’s funny…that you two keep lying to this woman…you and I both know you can’t keep her safe.”, Andrew chuckles as he throws his head back to glare up at them. “You couldn’t even keep him safe!”, he sasses as his eyes gesture towards Steve.

They both smile at each other and Eddie places his hands on his knees as he dips his head into the man’s eyeline.

“How did you know where we were?”

“Lucky guess?”

You jumped as Steve’s fist flew, hitting the gangster in the face so hard that blood flew from his lips.

“I always find it funny myself that Jason keeps men like you around who have zero insight whatsoever.” As Eddie spoke the officer continued to deliver blows to different parts of Andrew’s body. “Because if you did, you’d realize how much trouble you’re actually in.”

“Fuck…you…”

“How did you know where we were?”

Another witty retort, another punch delivered. They went around like this for a while with both men getting nowhere. As your eyes scanned the rival gangster, you noticed even with considerable amount of damage he received, he didn’t seem to be phased at all. While this lifestyle was rough and Andrew had probably been punched many times there was no way he could still be as cognitive as he was.

“Were you beat up a lot as a kid?” Your voice cut through the chaos as all the men glanced your way. “Since you were a child, maybe?”

Steve’s eyes scanned the bleeding man as his jaw clenched and he tried to sit up straighter. He had seen this before many times in interrogations. You were on to something.

“H-Hurting him like this won’t get through to him. He should be at the very least passed out by now but it’s kind of like a built-up tolerance. He’s been through this already and since he’s still so young… I would assume either he was bullied—”

“Which wouldn’t be the case, would it, Mr. Jock-I’m-Best-Friends-with-a-Prom-King?”, the cop teased.

“…Or he grew up with it in his house.”

Eddie’s gaze shifted from you back to Andrew as he folded his arms and waited for a response.

“Well look at that, Andy. It looks like you and I have some things in common.”

The gangster casually reached into his pocket and flipped open his switch blade eliciting a small whine from you at the action as the veins in arm flexed while holding it to the man’s throat. Why was that so fucking hot?

“Your father was a businessman if I’m not mistaken, just like my friend here.”, he muses as he pats Steve’s shoulder. “From the stories I’ve heard from him, I’m not surprised your dad was an asshole. Me on the other hand, I had the head of a mafia corporation as a parent. Trust me, Al definitely knew how to teach me and my mom a lesson.” The knife he was holding gradually traveled down Andrew’s chest to his stomach.

“One day while he was at work, I stole a pack of cigarettes from his nightstand thinking with how much that man smokes he’d never notice. Joke was on me because when he got home, he dragged me out of bed and threatened to cut off my fingers if I didn’t tell him the truth.”

Abruptly, Eddie slams the blade into the man’s hand making him scream before Steve covered his mouth.

“I told him what he wanted to hear and fucker still beat my ass.”, he laughs sarcastically. “How did you know where we were.” When all Andrew did was cry and whine, he twisted the knife causing him more pain.

“I followed you! I fucking followed Steve from the station! Goddamn it!”

“Did you tell Jason where you were going?”

“NO! The last time I called him was as this fucking dumbass left! Jason told me, to grab you and kill Steve if he got in the way! I didn’t even know anyone else was in the apartment! If I had I would have fucking taken her out.”, he spat through gritted teeth. “Jason doesn’t care about your fucking whores, you fucking dick!”

As Andrew kept shouting obscenities, Eddie slowly moved till he was standing directly in front of you and his fingers reached out to caress your cheek.

“But, oh, just you wait! Because when I tell him what happened, he’s going to torture them both in front of you so you can watch them fucking suffer! Sweetheart, I don’t know what these assholes promised you but I assure you aligning yourself with them is the biggest mistake you’ll ever making make!”

“Close your eyes, baby.”

As soon as you do what he says, you squeak and cover your ears as the deafening sound of a gun rings loud through the room.

“Don’t open them until one of us says, ok?”

You nod as you listen to them move quickly around you. Eddie makes a phone call to a couple of his men and murmurs instructions to them when they come up to his home. Mid way through everything, you feel strong arms grip your wrists to wrap your arms around a sweat dripping neck.

“It’s alright, honey. It’s just me. Hold on tightly, alright?”, Steve cooed as he lifted you off the counter and carried you up the stairs before placing you on a mattress. “You can open your eyes now.”

As you carefully pry them open, you are met with the officer’s soft honey irises as he kneeled in front of you on his knees. After removing your shoes and pants, he notices your hands that you had placed in your lap were subtly shaking.

“Everything’s ok, baby girl. He was just shouting those things to rattle you. Andrew was never the carefullest criminal. I know he was Jason’s friend but I’m surprised he kept him around with all the mistakes that kid made.” His large hands cover your own as his thumbs comfortingly rub against your skin. “Eddie and I aren’t like that. We are very meticulous especially when it comes to each other. We aren’t going to let anyone fucking hurt you.”

You only muster a small nod before Steve tilts you back against the pillow and pulls the covers up to your shoulders.

“Steve? Will you stay with me please?”

“Yeah, um, let me clean up a bit.”

Once everything was resolved, Eddie exhaustedly climbed up his stairs, taking off his shirt and tossing it aside before freezing at the sight in front of him. You and his boyfriend were fast asleep on his bed with you seemingly gripping his hand for dear life. Steve had placed his arm around your waist but you intertwined your fingers with his own and clung to his arm like child holds a teddy bear. He was the big spoon to your little one and for the first time in a long while the man he loved seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

Carefully, he slid in beside you, kicking his shoes gently to the floor, and drifting off to sleep himself.

############

“10-4 that’s a negative on Officer Harrington. If anyone gets eyes on him please be advised the captain is looking for him.”

Steve’s eyes groggily shot open just as Eddie rolled over to unclip the walkie from his vest on the floor and hand it to him just above your head.

“Yeah, hey 10-4. Officer Harrington here. Does…Does he need me to come in?”

“For your shift? Yes, he would appreciate that.”

Checking his watch, he bolted awake and jumped from the bed to hastily put on his clothes.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I overslept. These 48hr days are killing me. Tell the captain I’m on my way! Over and out.”

“Are you late, Steven?”, Eddie joked as he cracked his eyes open to watch the man fumble with his wardrobe.

“Fucking…woman is like a valium. I’ve never slept so…heavy in my life.”, he mumbled as he threw on his vest and double checked to make sure all his equipment was attached.

“Is it her or the long hours you’ve been working lately to protect me?”

“Is she staying with you today?”

“Way to avoid the question, sweetheart. That’s up to her. Since Jason and the rest of them don’t know about her she can go home and we can follow through with leaving her be.”

Steve paused, letting his shoes dangle in his hand as what the man was saying fully sunk in.

“Oh, I guess you’re right. I just, um…”

Eddie’s eyes fully open as he sits up and leans his head on the officer’s shoulder while comfortingly rubbing his back.

“I know. I like her to but she really needs to think about if this is a life she wants to be a part of. We didn’t exactly have a choice but she does.”

***

When you wake up, you find yourself alone in bed again but as the familiar panic washed over you, the smell of bacon and eggs settles your worried brain. Glancing beside you, you notice your bag was put on a chair near the bed as well as a towel as if to silently inform you that you could take a shower before coming down if you wished.

Grabbing your things, you tiptoe into the bathroom and quickly change. When you finally pause and exhale a nervous breath, your gaze shifts taking in the beautiful area before you. The claw tub was exceptionally huge with an equal size attached standing shower. The black tile matched the décor of the rest of the apartment with the white contrast of everything else making the furniture stand out.

As you pulled up your hair, you took in the items on the sink in front of you taking amusement in the fact that none of it looked expensive. You’d figure as a man who owned this kind of space and ran an entire gang, EVERYTHING he owned would be top-notch. Not to say that you didn’t enjoy the smell of Eddie’s cologne or Steve’s travel sized bottle of hair product. You weren’t the type of woman that needed lavish things and appreciated the fact that it didn’t seem like they did either.

After spraying on your own body spray, you tossed your things to the floor and took a seat on the bed to slide on your shoes. You didn’t mean to be noisy but you couldn’t help being curious as you took in the things around you. On the wall directly across from you was a framed poster for the movie “Evil Dead” and directly beside that a guitar with a signature scrawled across that you couldn’t make out from where you were.

On the nightstand were regular things such as a clock, cigarettes with an ashtray, and a book you assumed was fantasy by the fantastical cover but a framed photo caught your eye as you lifted it to take a closer look.

It was an image of the officer and the gangster in bed holding each other with Steve asleep just below Eddie’s bare chest. His tattooed arm extended out in front of him to get them both in frame as he softly grinned while playing with the other man’s hair.

Smiling to yourself you placed the image back down where you found it and quietly opened the drawer below. Your eyes flicked to the gun that was nestled there, ignoring it as you flipped through some papers you found with words that made no sense and sketches of he and his boyfriend in oddly sexy looking Renaissance style garb.

“Steven Harrington, the salacious, handsome Paladin came to bring justice to Rouge Edward Munson but little did he know that this particular man had a little magic up his sleeve seducing the knight and falling love. Edward had never been in love before but he knew after that night in the Paladin’s carriage, he would do anything for him.”

“I love you to, you nerd.”

You giggle at what you assume is Steve’s comment and place the papers back in the drawer. Near the back was a photo album and your smile grew as you looked at the images within.

“Hm. Steve was right. You are nosey girl.”, Eddie scolded in a light tone as leaned against the railing by the stairs.

“You really love him don’t you?”, you ask, flashing him a picture of the officer rolling his eyes with a smile as the long-haired man laid himself over his shoulders, locking his hands lazily around his neck.

“Yeah, I do.”, he answers as he comes to sit beside you. “I honestly never thought I would…fall in love you know…and definitely not with a fucking cop but…like that saying says, ‘You can’t control who you fall in love with.’”

The gangster’s eyes carefully watch your face as you continue to flip through the images of them together, only looking away when he noticed you blink as your head tilted. The photo you were looking at was what you guessed was a younger Eddie in front of a woman in a beautiful pink gown with wavy curls like his own. He was grimacing as she kissed his cheek but that didn’t erase the happiness that emitted from his demeanor.

“Is this your mom?”, you ask and he affirms. “You look like her.”

“Heh. Thank you, princess. You have no idea how much hearing that means to me.” Turning the page, you find a couple more images of them together but as you continue forward you notice his body language change as a 10-year-old Eddie is standing between two men that look vaguely like him. “That was taken right before my dad left me with my uncle.”

“What happened to your mom?”

“She died.”, he sighed as he suddenly grabbed the album from your hand and put it away. “Come on, I made you something to eat.”

After following him down, you place yourself on one of the stools and wait patiently for him to slide a plate in front of you with a cup of coffee. You mutter thanks as you begin to eat trying to ignore the fact that the gangster’s chocolate-colored irises were once again burning a hole into your skin as he stared at you.

“When I was six.” Eddie stated matter-of-factly as he leaned over the island close to where you were sitting and continued. “My mother died when I was six. I lived with my dad after that but…let’s just say he wasn’t the best father.”

“Was the story you told last night real?” When he nods, a sad sigh leaves you. “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

He shrugs brushing off the feeling of sadness that always washes over him when he talks about this topic.

“So, yeah, since it seems the Carver’s don’t know about you…I can take you home…and you’ll never hear from us again. I’m, uh, sorry about everything. I promise you won’t get in trouble or anything like that.”

“Oh. Do you want me to leave?”

“No…but I don’t want you to feel trapped either.”, he sighs. “Y/N, we like you so much. I know you said we don’t know you and I understand that but there’s something about you…” When he pauses, you watch as he stands up straighter and hardens his expression like he did when you two first walked into his building. “Steve and I had no choice in the life we chose. Like I told you the other night, I’m a gangster; I kill people. Steve’s killed people and done some other terrible shit that could get him put in prison for the rest of his life. We’re both assholes and as I’m sure you’ve notice have tempers at times. We like to control as much as we can which is hot as hell in the bedroom but can be infuriating anywhere else.”

Stepping around to your side of the island, he swiveled your stool till your body was facing his as his fingers gripped your chin.

“If you stay you’re ours. No one would hurt you or disrespect you because you’d be ours and everyone knows not to mess with things that belong to me.” Your breathing stuttered as his thumb grazes your lips. “We like that you’re strong with a bit of an attitude but you seem like you can also submit and listen which is perfect for men like us. Because that tells me you can handle us, not just out there but under the covers as well.”

Your eyes close as the tip of his nose grazes yours, the humid air from his breath warming your lips.

“Or anywhere else we feel like having you. Against your apartment wall, in the back of Steve’s police car, or even… on this countertop.”

Grabbing his face, you bring his lips to your own mewling at the taste of his tongue as it glides along your own. There was an immediate sense of urgency in your movements as if you didn’t have him now you would implode.

“Wait… your cut—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Trust me. Fuck.”, he groans, pulling you out of your chair and spinning you around to bend your top half over the marble in front of you.

Eddie hastily yanks down your pants and panties before fumbling to free his cock from his shorts and spitting in his hand as he strokes it along his length. With his palm pressed to the small of your back, you both moan as he runs his tip between your folds, collecting your slick, and guides himself into your core.

“Oh fuck. Steve was right. Fuck, princess, your pussy is so fucking tight.”

“Eddie…”

“Yeah, baby? Does my dick feel good?” You whine at his question, your hips pushing back to meet his thrusts allowing him to hit that sensitive inside of you that has your eyes rolling as your head hangs. As one of his palms abruptly smacks your ass, the other grabs a handful of your hair, and tugs you backwards till your feel his lips against the shell of your ear.

“I asked you something, little girl. When I ask you something I expect a fucking answer. Does my dick feel good stretching your tight little pussy open?”

“I…I can’t…”

Eddie grumbles through clenched teeth as he wraps his arms around you; one looping around your tummy and the other across your chest so his hand can lightly grip your throat. He pressed your back against him and you whimper as he rolls his hips slower but harder, slamming his cock impossibly deep into your cunt.

“You can’t what? You—fuck—you can’t fucking use your words to answer me? Aw, poor pathetic little girl. So dumb off my cock she can’t even speak.” The palm near your stomach travels between your legs and slaps your clit making you jump. “And so sensitive to. I like that.”

Turning your head slightly, you press your forehead against his cheek and Eddie dips his chin so his lips can kiss yours.

“Y-Your cock…your cock feels so…so fucking good, Eddie!” You rush out your last few words making him grin as he pushes you back down against the counter and pounds into you.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. I want to feel you squeeze me.”

Your hands clung to the counter as your body shook and you came hard around him. The gangster grunted at the feeling chasing his high until you heard him moan your name under his breath and feel his release warm your insides.

After he pulled out, you turned your body to face his right as his forehead leaned against your own. Eddie’s eyes were still closed as he continued to pant, his palms resting under your shirt against your lower back.

“I’m afraid.”, he murmured throwing you off.

What could a man like him possibly be afraid of? His eyes gradually opened meeting your confused ones before continuing.

“I wasn’t prepared for Steve nor was I prepared for how much I would come to love and care about him. I would kill for that man and if anyone took him away from me…” He exhaled heavily, shaking his head as if to wipe away the thought entirely. “Like I said, there’s something about you… we weren’t prepared for you either and the way I feel about you after these few days… I’m afraid to be vulnerable like that again. Not just for me but for my business. Another vulnerability is another thing someone can use against me. It’s not just about me when it comes to this gang. I have a lot of people that need me and look up to me…sort of like your patients.”

Your hands cup his face as you tenderly lean forward to kiss his lips.

“Maybe…we all have some thinking to do. I know you said you didn’t have a choice in your lives but you both very much did and do. Being a doctor was who I was meant to be but I very much had a choice of where I opened my clinic and the people I help. I could have turned you both away… I knew Steve wasn’t going to hurt me… but I helped you…”

Eddie nodded in understanding, backing away from you as you two got fully clothed again.

“Would you like me to drive you home?”

“Please.”

###############

Steve exhaustedly sauntered into Eddie’s loft, pulling off his gear and everything he didn’t need as he tossed them on the couch.

“Hey you.”, the long-haired man smiled as he came down the stairs and tenderly kissed the officer as both men fell onto the sofa behind them.

“How was your day?”

“Long. They’re still looking into Carver’s men being murdered but at some point they’ll give up. The higher ups honestly prefer to let you guys duke it out on your own.”

“Did they mention Andrew?”

“No but it’s too soon for Jason to really be worried yet. I imagine you’ll hear from him before we do.” Steve smiled softly as Eddie’s fingers gently ran through his tussled hair and petted his head. “How’s Y/N?”

“She’s good. We had a bit of a talk today and then I took her back to her apartment—”

“You what?”, the officer interrupted in a sharp tone. “So that’s it? You just said a few words and that was that?! You just took her home?!”

“Steve, calm down—”

“NO! Don’t tell me to calm down!”, he shouts as he rises to his feet.

“I thought we agreed that if she wanted to go home and be left alone we would honor that.”

“You didn’t even let me get a chance to say how I feel!”

“Oh? How DO you feel, sweetheart? What would you say if she was here right now?”

“I’d say that I fucking care about her! I think she’s witty and kind... She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Besides you, I’ve never wanted to protect and take care of someone more than I do her. Every day I go out there and risk my life but no one fucking cares except you which is one of the many things I love about you. She makes me feel the same way. I feel like she genuinely cares if I’m in pain or hurting.”

“She’s a doctor, babe.”

“It’s more than that, Ed, and I know you know that. FUCK! I wanted to get to know her better. Now she’s going to think we just used her for her clinic and sex. I hate that that’s the last idea she has of us.”

“I don’t think that at all.”

Steve’s head whipped around at your words finding you at the bottom of the staircase in similar pajamas they saw you in when you were watching over Eddie.

“You didn’t let me finish so I thought I’d let you get it all out.”, the gangster smirked. “I was going to tell you I took her back to her apartment because she asked to get a couple of things so she could stay with us for a few days.”

“So we CAN talk and get to know each other better.”

Relief painted Steve’s face as he listened to you speak before determination darkened his eyes and he strides confidently towards you, lifting you into his arms, and carrying you back up the stairs.

Tossing you onto Eddie’s bed, you couldn’t help but giggle as he roughly but needily tore off your clothes as his lips roamed all over your skin.

“I told you, sweetheart, passionate with a good heart.”, Eddie teases as he takes a seat in the chair beside the mattress.

You grinned his way as Steve sucked and nibbled on your neck, his pant covered cock grinding against your core as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Fuck. Did you get to feel her today?”, the officer groaned towards his boyfriend as your lips picked up where he left off, trailing down his jawline while your fingers unhooked his belt and tried to push down his trousers.

“I did and you were right.”, the gangster answered as he leaned forward to capture Steve’s lips. “Her pussy is too fucking good and so tight especially when she comes. Just like you, baby.”

You and Steve moan loudly as you grip his length and guide him into your dripping heat making Eddie’s smirk widen as he licks his lips.

“There you go, pretty boy. Fuck her harder with that big, thick cock. Little girl doesn’t mind it rough, do you baby?” The moment your head shakes, a hand shoots out to pinch your cheeks and adjusts you so your eyes meet his. “What did I say about unanswered questions?”

The man above you pants heavily as he watches your face while his partner’s palm shifts to your throat and squeezes. When he releases his grip, a hiccup and a mewl leave your throat that has Steve grunting aggressively as he pumps into you harder till your eyes close.

“I…I don’t mind it—shit—I don’t mind it rough. Steve, please.”

“You want to see something that really gets him going?”, the gangster whispered in your ear.

You watch as his palm gently runs through his boyfriend’s hair, down his back, and guides effortlessly over his ass. Steve’s head shot up, his mouth falling open into a wide O as Eddie pushed two of his fingers deep inside of his entrance.

Pushing up on to one of his palms, he pounded into you making your cunt cling to him as you listened to all the beautiful sounds that fell from his mouth.

“There you go, baby. Make her cum. Make this good girl cum.”

The coil in your stomach violently snapped, your back arching into his chest as you cried and screamed his name. It was too much for him as Steve fell flat on top of you and chased his high, slamming his seed deep into your body.

“Are you okay?”, you murmur as you nails run softly down his back.

“Yeah…fuck…I’m fine. I’m…I’m glad you decided to…to hang around.”, he pants as he tries to catch his breath.

“Need some water, hun? We ain’t nearly close to being done.”

You both chuckle at Eddie’s words as he tilts down to kiss your lips.

##############

ONE WEEK LATER

“What’s got you all smiley?”, one of the nurses asks you as she passes by your office.

“Nothing, I’m just happy. Am I not allowed to be happy?!”, you joke as the young lady laughs at your response.

“You are absolutely allowed to be. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you wear any other emotion beside stress and worry. Dr. Y/L/N wouldn’t have happened to meet a new guy now did she?”

“No…”, you blush.

“Oh my god, you did! I have to know everything.”

“Isabella, did you come to my office for a reason?”, you deflect.

“Your new patient is here and ready to see you.”

You grin at her as you head down the hallway to the exam room, your grin promptly falling as you read the chart.

“Izzie, are you sure this is the right file?”

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“No reason.”

Her eyes continue to scan you over as you heavily exhale and open the door, stepping inside. A gentleman in a nice suit and a green button up underneath turned to face you beaming from ear to ear as he stepped closer to where you were standing.

“Hello there. You must be Dr. Y/L/N. It’s nice to make your acquaintance. I’m Jason Carver.”

#############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer

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princessstevemunson · 1 year

Text

All this talk about shovel talks and nothing about Claudia Henderson. Like where’s her giving steddie shovel talks?

Claudia is eternally grateful to Eddie for saving her Dusty’s life, but she sees the pain her boys were both in after his sacrifice. She hears the screams at night from Dustin’s room. She watches as he either radios whoever was sitting with Eddie—usually Steve—or calls if the person doesn’t have a radio. Always asking for updates in the morning. Making sure the other boy is still there. Still alive.

Steve on the other hand is hiding his pain as he always does. She still sees Steve sitting vigil at the young man’s bed when she comes to bring real food and good coffee to Steve, Wanye and occasionally Dustin’s middle school science teacher Mr. Clarke. She sees the way Steve took extra care washing the other’s vest. All under a guise of being a good friend and not wanting Eddie to wake up alone.

When Eddie starts tagging along with Steve to their dinners occasionally she slowly watches as the two go from friends to pining to something else entirely. It’s when she’s certain that Eddie and Steve have become EddieandSteve that she starts doing it.

She would never give a shovel talk to Eddie. Steve’s a grown man, and can protect his own heart, but she’s already seen the pain Eddie had unwilling caused him. She’s seen the way Steve held the metalhead’s vest as it was his anchor to this world. She knew Eddie would never cause him pain like that again, but that doesn’t mean she can’t have a little fun scaring Eddie.

It starts innocently enough, she’s just sharing fun facts.

“Did you know,” she says to Eddie while Steve and Dustin are clearing the table, “that pigs can eat a human body. It can take some time, but sixteen pigs can do it in about eight minutes actually.”

She hides her smile as the younger squirms uncomfortably and replies “um, no I didn’t know that.”

She didn’t think anyone else but Eddie heard her, but she was wrong. Dustin says something about remembering going to Claudia’s cousin’s farm shortly after his dad left them, and thinking it had pigs. She had an even harder hiding her smile after Eddie went as white as a ghost with that information.

She continues to give Eddie little fun facts like that, and one time confirming that Eddie is in fact allergic to cinnamon, because she’d hate to forget that when baking him something.

She’d never ever be the cause of Dustin and Steve’s pain, or give her new found friends Wayne and Scott the panic she had in spring break not knowing where her Dusty was, but she does like seeing Eddie squirm on occasion.

#Claudia henderson absolutely adopted Steve and is far more observant than the kids #she’d never give an actual shovel talk to Eddie but she’d have fun scaring him #eddie thinks she hates him #Steve who’s partially deaf and somehow is never in the room when she drops tidbits is very confused #He’s like ‘what? Ma loves you’#claudia henderson #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #I’m totally not pushing my Claudia killed her husband hc into this #my writing #blurb #steddie blurb #steddie fanfic #clarkson if you squint

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very-feral-lesbian · 2 years

Text

huge shout out to whoever edited the page that pops up when you google ‘steve harrington’

#stranger things season four #stranger things #gayner things #st4 #steddie #steveddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie is real *confirmed*

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shares-a-vest · 2 months

Text

@steddielovemonth Day 15: Love is... Co-Parenting (Prompt by... me! sorry-not-sorry for being self-indulgent)

wc: 1076 | Rated: T for swearing | cw: None

Tags: Steddie Dads (for my Joanie Munson AU), Valentine's Day Crafts, Co-Parenting Negotiation Tactics, Eddie Munson is a Menace, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson

'Eddie vs. Valentine's Day Crafts'

Eddie splutters away, swatting at his face. He can see a speck of red glitter in his periphery, a remnant of his red glitter and heart-shaped confetti-filled afternoon. The offending shimmer is somewhere on his cheek and he needs to get rid of it this instant, or he is going to fucking scream.

He foolishly thought he had already removed all traces of Valentine’s Day crafts from his very being via what felt more like a decontamination scrub-down than a warm shower. Eddie grumbles, thinking about the monumental clean-up effort he endured right through to past dinnertime and his mind turns to the clothes hamper…

A job for Tomorrow Morning Steve, he smiles to himself, blinking and glitter free.

He holds out his hand for one final confirmation that the glitter has been vanquished once and for all.

Only he finds a little pink heart stuck to the middle of his goddamn palm.

“Fuck!” he curses, flailing on the bed and punching his fist into the sheets.

The mattress dips on the other side as a craft supply-free Steve finally joins him. The lucky bastard doesn’t know how good he has it!

“What’s wrong?” Steve chuckles.

Eddie rolls haphazardly onto his side, his legs tangling up in their bedding as he all but shoves his palm into his partner’s face.

“I take it all back,” he rants, “Our little girl is a complete gremlin. A stinky little bean who makes it her life’s mission to make a mess. Look!”

Steve grabs his wrist and moves it back at a (reasonable) distance, squinting without his glasses. He shrugs.

“Wonder where she gets it from?” he quips and Eddie all but yelps with frustration.

Steve gently curls up Eddie’s hand in his own and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

“I think we should drop her on Robin and Nance’s doorstep,” Eddie continues and scrunches his nose in every attempt to remain focused on complaining, even though his partner begins to massage his tense hand, “The glitter can be their problem. They love crafts!”

“I like my Valentine’s Day cards,” Steve says absentmindedly as he continues his ministrations, now rubbing at the skin typically covered by rings, “Made with love by my favourite munchkin...”

He leans over for a kiss when Eddie spots a red shimmer in his hair – an impossibility that causes him to throw himself onto Steve and dry-sob into his blue sleeping shirt.

“You know the trade-off,” Steve says, his hands moving to his hair with combing movements Eddie shouldn’t find so soothing right now, “I do Christmas crafts, you have Valentine’s Day and Halloween. I can’t help it if I’m better at containing glitter than you.”

Eddie pulls back and glares.

“Fuck you,” he spits with no real heat behind his words because Steve flashes a toothy grin and winks.

“Speaking of cards…” he purrs, taking his hand again and interlocking their fingers, “Where’s my naughty one?”

They both side-eye Steve’s pillow, a year’s old hiding spot for said obscene greeting cards, in unison.

Eddie yanks back his hand and slumps onto his own pillow, “Don’t know what you could possibly be referring to, Stevie.”

Their particular brand of Valentine’s Day celebrations can wait. He needs to renegotiate this whole co-parenting over holiday crafts thing…

“Think you do…” Steve coos, rolling on his side and shimmying closer, enough that he can press himself flush against Eddie’s side.

Eddie screws his eyes shut. It was cold today but of course, Steve runs hot. So hot that he thinks if they took their clothes off…

He can feel Steve’s breath against his ear as he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper, “The one where you say all the things you want to do to me…”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, gulping as his very limited willpower quickly crumbles away. He thinks he’ll do anything to get out of this arrangement by Halloween - or god forbid, whatever random celebration Joanie’s preschool conjures up next.

Funny Hat Day? Easter? Favourite Character Day? Impractical-For-Preschool Clothes Day? Make Your Parents Stay Up All Night In A Glitter-Induced Nightmare Realm As They All But Glue Themselves To The Goddman Kitchen Table-Day?

His eyes shoot open at the thought of possible years to come of this – his vision blurred by a small pale dot of paper sticking to his left lashes.

“God damn it!”

He swishes his hand in front of his face again – at least until Steve bats him away, leans in and delicately plucks the rogue heart off. Steve even has the sense to reach for a tissue on the nightstand and squish the paper inside a balled-up clump, hopefully locking it up for good.

“Here,” he offers, sliding his hand under Eddie’s pillow with ease to retrieve a comically large red envelope, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Steve pecks him on the cheek before quickly settling to rest his head on his chest.

“What are you doing?” he asks, dipping his neck to watch Steve snuggle in tight, eyes closed and looking a little bashful.

“Hiding,” he mumbles.

“Did you write me some sappy sonnet, my love?” he asks, tearing the envelope open and filling their quiet bedroom with an abrupt riiip.

“Just... some words,” Steve yawns, as Eddie frees the card and tosses the destroyed envelope onto the floor, “I don’t know, it probably sounds pathetic.”

“Not a chance,” Eddie says, giving the card a once over, his free hand finding its way into Steve’s impossibly soft and fruity-scented locks.

The card features two brown teddy bears, cuddling and cozy as they sit amongst a bed of rose petals. Above are floating glittering red hearts and the words, ‘To my Dearest Husband on Valentine’s Day’.

“Steve,” he sighs, opening the card to a message that spans the whole inside.

“I know you aren't my husband, not technically anyway,” Steve mumbles, peaking through one eye, “But I meant everything I wrote…”

His voice trails off, any grip he has around Eddie’s middle going lax.

“Love you, Steve,” he whispers, “G-get some sleep, hmm?”

Eddie falters in his words, overcome with love for the man wrapped around him (one who is rapidly approaching a state of sleep that leaves him snoring like a jackhammer) as he begins reading about just how much Steve loves walking through life hand-in-hand as they raise their daughter together, confetti hearts and glitter or not.

#i thiiiink i might be late with this one!!!#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie dads #steddie as girl-dads #steddie au #steddielovemonth

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stevethehairington · 1 year

Note

for the writing prompt, can I request numbers 37 & 64? It sounded so cute in my head 🥺

hiiii! thank you for the prompts!! double action hell yeah!! these two go soooo well together too omg.

you did not say any specific pairing, so i went ahead and wrote steddie because they are my default <3

37. "can i kiss you" + 64. "it's two sugars, right?"

Eddie wakes up in his bed feeling more peaceful than he has in a long time.

He lets consciousness return to him slowly, basking in the soft sunlight that seeps through the blinds, the cozy warmth of the bedsheets, and the delicious ache of his body as he stretches out.

The memories of last night trickle back to the forefront of his brain, and a syrupy smile spreads across his face.

Eddie hums contentedly and nuzzles into the pillow. Lazily, he wonders if his luck has stuck around long enough for a round two (or round three, really) in his near future.

But when he sweeps his arm out from under himself and towards the other side of the bed — towards the body that’s supposed to be there, all it catches is air. There’s a lingering warmth against the sheets, but it’s the only sign that anyone was there at all.

Eddie blinks his eyes open properly and sits up. Disappointment wells up as his sight confirms what his touch had told him:

Steve is gone.

Oh.

It… it stings. Eddie can’t say that it doesn’t. Maybe it was naive of him to think that last night had meant as much to Steve as it did to him, but he had. Thought that.

The idea that this whole thing was just… just a one night stand? It hurts. Eddie doesn’t want it to be a one night stand. Steve had been so sweet, too. So attentive. It didn’t feel like a one night stand for him either. But what did Eddie know? Maybe that’s just how Steve is with all of his bed partners. Maybe he just makes them all feel that special.

Or, shit. Maybe Steve isn’t even into guys. Maybe he’d thought that he was and last night just proved that no, actually, he’s not. Except — no, no. That can’t be true. The sounds he was making last night were way too real to be fake. That was enjoyment, no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.

So then maybe Steve just isn’t into Eddie. And instead of being honest with him, instead of telling him straight up, he slipped out before Eddie could wake up. He didn’t have the guts to break Eddie’s heart, so he just… left. Disappeared. It’s a dick move, but… sometimes old habits die hard, right? Maybe his heart wasn’t so gold that the assholery couldn’t slip back through the cracks.

But Eddie can’t believe that either. Not with the way Steve’s been looking at him. Smiling at him. All of the excuses he’d make to be around Eddie; and the constant touches to his shoulder, his arm, his back, and the way they lingered; the way he’d laugh at everything Eddie had to say, even if it wasn’t funny. There’s no way Eddie read the signs wrong. Steve was interested. In Eddie.

Before Eddie can spiral any further, though, a creak sounds off from somewhere outside of his bedroom and he freezes in place. Wayne isn’t home yet, he’d taken a double shift at the plant today, and won’t be home until the evening. Which means, unless Eddie’s home is being robbed, there’s only one other person that could be snooping through the kitchen cupboards like that…

His heart starts to jump rope in his chest as he ambles out of his bedroom, down the short hall, and into the kitchen. And, just as he thought— just as he hoped, he finds Steve standing at the counter.

He’s still sleepsoft, in nothing but his boxers (or maybe those are Eddie’s, actually) and one of Eddie’s worn old t-shirts. His hair is flat, rumpled in the front and sticking up in the back, like he’d slept on it funny. There are still pillow creases in his cheek. He is beautiful.

He’s also speaking to the ancient coffee maker in a mild-mannered tone, whispering gentle encouragements and positive affirmations to it, like those will coax it into finally working right.

Fat chance.

“Come on, baby, come on. You can do it! You can make a cup of coffee, I know you can! Come on, work with me here,” Steve pleads.

When the coffee machine continues to do nothing, Steve curses under his breath and smacks his palm against the side.

Eddie can’t help himself as he snorts at the Jekyll and Hyde change of heart, and Steve startles at the sound, spinning around.

“Oh, hey,” he says, shoulders relaxing when he realizes it’s just Eddie.

“Hey,” Eddie replies, and his cheeks warm for no good reason. “I see you’ve met Leonard.”

Steve’s nose scrunches up. “Who the fuck is Leonard?”

Eddie jerks his chin towards the coffee maker. “Leonard,” he introduces. “He’s a crotchety old fucker. Only does what you want when he wants to. Kind of like Wayne.”

Steve laughs. “You just gotta treat him right then. That’s all. A little sweet talking is all it takes.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah — Harrington charm hasn’t failed me yet. Just you watch.”

Steve pets the side of the coffee machine, caresses it, more like. He leans in close and whispers, “Come on, big guy. I know you can do it. Just give me some of that sweet sweet lifeblood you’re so good at making, that’s all I want.”

The smooth tone and the flattery make Eddie think of last night again — the praise and the exaltation and the so good, baby, so good for me that Steve kept repeating like a prayer.

None of this now is directed at him, but he still feels hot all over. (Is it reasonable to be jealous of a fucking coffee maker?)

But then, against all odds, Leonard sputters to life. First, a tiny little drip. Then another, and another, and another, until finally a full stream of hot, fresh coffee spills into the waiting carafe below.

Holy shit. Steve can talk anything over the edge, apparently. Harrington charm indeed.

Steve brightens and sends a triumphant grin Eddie’s way. It’s tinged with smugness too, and Eddie shakes his head at him. (Fondly, always fondly.)

“Hah, see? I still got it,” Steve boasts. He waggles his eyebrows and Eddie wants to kiss him again.

He doesn’t know if he can, though. He doesn’t know what this is, and he doesn’t want to make assumptions.

Instead, Eddie moves over to the table and drops himself into one of the chairs. “You makin’ breakfast?” He asks.

“Just coffee,” Steve responds, “but I can make something to eat if you want.”

A home cooked breakfast sounds so nice. All Eddie usually eats in the mornings is toast or cereal. Something hot off the stove would be a treat. But Eddie doesn’t want to rope Steve into cooking for him if he doesn’t want to. If he… has other plans. Like leaving. Eddie doesn’t know his morning after habits.

“No, it’s okay,” Eddie tells him.

He’s about to add on that maybe just a cup of coffee for himself would be nice, if that’s not too much trouble for Steve, but Steve is two steps ahead, as always.

He brushes up against Eddie’s side and sets a steaming mug right in front of him.

“It's two sugars, right?” He asks.

Eddie blinks up at him. “Yeah, I— how’d you know that?”

Steve smiles. “I pay attention.”

And it’s— it’s so fucking sweet. Steve’s never made Eddie a single cup of coffee in his life but— but he knows how Eddie takes it anyways. And he made it for him without even asking. Just thought of Eddie, like it was no big deal. Like he wanted to do something nice for him.

Steve turns to go back to Leonard and pour his own cup of coffee, but Eddie lunges forward to catch his wrist before he can go far.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve wrinkles his nose, tilts his head. “You have to ask?”

Eddie purses his lips and ducks his head. It’s a little embarrassing that he does have to ask. It makes him feel a little bad, too. Like he’s doubting Steve or something.

But he’s never done this before. Any of it. He doesn’t want to assume. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I wasn’t sure,” Eddie replies.

“Eddie,” Steve says, sliding into the seat across from him. “We did a lot more than just kiss last night,” he points out.

And, yeah, they sure did. Eddie fights a flush as the memories of last night flood back. Steve on his back, Steve between his legs, Steve with his mouth and his hands all over Eddie, making him feel so good.

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, but that was last night,” he says, curling in on himself a little. He hates that he feels so insecure about this. Hates that he has to even bring it up. “It’s morning now. It’s a new day. It’s— I’m not sure— I just don’t know if last night was, like, some one time thing for you or…” he trails off. Shrugs again. His fingers toy with the handle of the mug in front of him.

Steve reaches out across the table to take Eddie’s hands. His thumbs brush over the tops of his knuckles, and he waits for Eddie to meet his eyes before he smiles — soft and sweet and warm.

“It’s not just a one time thing for me, it’s really really not. I’m, like, so into you it’s kind of crazy,” Steve admits, a little breathless as he says it. “I want… I want everything with you. I want as much as you’ll give me.”

Eddie’s heart somersaults beneath his ribs, backflips across his chest, puts on a whole god damn gymnastics routine.

“That’s— yeah. I want that too,” he confesses back, twisting his hands in Steve’s so that he can tangle their fingers together properly.

The smile that lights up Steve’ face is brighter than the sun. Prettier, too.

“Steve,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve laughs, and he nearly knocks over the chair in his haste to stand up and round the table. He pushes himself into the space between Eddie’s knees, and cups Eddie’s face between his hands, holds his head like it’s something precious. Like he’s something precious.

“Yes,” Steve says, “you can.”

So Eddie pulls him into his lap, and he kisses him.

100 ways to say i love you prompts

#asks #justalittlefungi #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mack writes #macks ficlets

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novacorpsrecruit · 4 months

Text

April 24, 1987 - GAME 1

Hi here’s a Steddie Drabble from my latest sports discovery while deciphering basketball stats.

gen * wc 1,174 * established relationship

The 1986-87 Indiana Pacers season has been a doozy. Steve would never had guessed that the Pacers would make it to playoffs. Jack Ramsey, the long standing coach of the Portland Trail Blazers recently hired for the Pacers, leading the team into playoffs for the first time since ‘81.

And for the first time in four years, Steve has someone to watch the playoffs with.

When Eddie was still in the hospital, Steve and Wayne would meet in passing, alternating sitting by his side to keep him comfort and to keep him safe. The first two weeks, Eddie was in and out of consciousness, and “unable to protest when I put on the game,” Wayne half joked, nodding to the Cardinals-Cubs game on the television. Steve nodded, sitting down on the other side of Eddie as they watched the game in silence. A few innings in, Wayne scoffed. “You tellin’ me, this Rick Sutcliffe is worth a buck and a half?”

Steve couldn’t help but smirk. “The Cardinals are the ones paying almost 2 million for a short stop.”

“And a damn good one, too,” Wayne added. “Wayne.”

“Steve,” Steve added, properly introducing himself.

Wayne hummed, as if he was thinking something over. “I wondered if that was you. He doesn’t shut up about ya.”

“He’s … something special,” Steve said softly, and he was sure Wayne knew.

And when Steve and Eddie started to date, game nights with Wayne became more common. They started by watching the World Series (an unfortunate season for the Cubs, but at least Wayne’s Cardinals also failed to go into post season). Then into football season (a disappointing season from the Colts). Then a couple of hockey games when the Blackhawks were nationally televised, but the real excitement hit when the Indiana Pacers were playing.

Wayne and Steve were pretty excited when the Pacers made it to playoffs.

On game nights, one of the men would be in charge of grabbing supper, usually pizza or something from the diner on the edge of town. Wayne and Steve would settle in the living room as Eddie went to his bedroom, working on a new song or planning the next campaign. He enjoyed his alone time, allowing the creativity to flow and not worry about if he’s ignoring Steve. During halftimes, Steve would find his way into the bedroom, enjoying time with Eddie before the game picks up again.

Steve was setting up the living room and finding the channel for the first Pacers playoff game. Wayne and Eddie should be off of work and be home soon. Eddie was on supper duty tonight.

Gravel crunched under tires, signifying that one of the two had arrived. A loud slam of a car door confirmed that it was his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby —“ Steve started to greet Eddie.

“What do you mean a basket is called a field goal?” Eddie asked dramatically.

“I — what?” Steve asked a wrinkle to his brow.

“A field goal,” Eddie supplied. Steve watched as Eddie set up the three meals —three? — in the living room. Usually Eddie takes his into the bedroom before the game starts. “It’s fucking basketball. They’re called field goals?”

“I mean — yeah. Field goals,” Steve said, watching Eddie get settled into the couch, burgers and milkshakes spread out on the coffee table. “They’re the two or three pointer shots. If they score, it’s a field goal. They’re mainly called that … in stats.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, stuffing fries into his mouth. “I read up.”

“On … stats,” Steve said, sitting down on the couch, nearly on top of Eddie. “On basketball stats?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I wanted to know what’s going on in the playoffs.”

“You want to watch with us?” Steve asked.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, leaning into Steve. “You said this was a big deal, so I thought I’d join in.” He took a sip of his milkshake. “Is that … okay?”

“You, Eddie Munson, want to watch basketball with us?” Steve asked. He extended his hand, pressing the back of his palm against Eddie’s forehead. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie laughed, swiping Steve’s hand away. “I asked Lucas if he could give me some pointers.”

“For the Pacers game,” Steve repeated.

“Yeah,” Eddie said with a slight huff. “He said to keep an eye on Chuck Person, said he wouldn’t be surprised if he won Rookie of the Year. He said the Pacers improved drastically with the coach change. That they went from, what, a record of 26-56 to 41-41? That’s fucking impressive. And it looks like a lot of that depended on Person averaging 18 points per game? I mean, he’s no Magic Johnson or Larry Bird or Michael Jordan, but that’s still fucking good, right? For his rookie season?”

Steve couldn’t help but stare, his mouth slightly agape. He had to be dreaming, right? This is his boyfriend rattling off facts and stats in front of him, right?

Eddie waved his hand in front of Steve’s face. “Stevie?”

Steve all but leaped into Eddie’s arms, crashing their lips together in a hard and clumsy kiss. Eddie, known jock despiser, learned sports statistics for him?

“If I knew this was the response I’d get,” Eddie mumbled into the kiss, “I would’ve told you Colts stats months ago.”

Steve groaned. “It wouldn’t have worked as well. Colts sucked ass this season.”

“I know something that sucks good —“

“Please, for the love of God,” Wayne groaned from the front door. The two nearly split, pulling off of each other but staying pressed against one another on the couch. “Not in front of the Pacers.”

“Eddie’s gonna watch with us tonight,” Steve beamed. Eddie took note of his smile, of the energy Steve gave for just Eddie being interested in watching sports with him. Maybe he could get enough cash together to buy three tickets for the next Cardinals-Cubs game.

“Wondered when he’d get his head out of his ass and join us,” Wayne laughed, sitting in the recliner, grabbing his dinner from the coffee table. “Who you got on the game, Eds?”

“Depends on if we can keep the ball away from Wilkins,” Eddie said around his fries. “Ending last season with an average of 30 points per game? Need to keep him away from the net.”

“Jesus,” Steve mumbled, taking a long look up and down Eddie. “Wayne, you might need to take a long smoke break during halftime.”

“Already planning on it,” Wayne sighed. “Turn on the game.”

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Wayne Munson #stranger things #//myfic #I don’t think I can get into basketball but I was highly considering it for a moment

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dickplinko · 2 years

Text

Did anyone else have the official Netflix account reblogging steddie content on their vol 2 bingo chart?

#stranger things #st4 volume 2 #steddie #netflix #wtf steddie confirmed real #steve stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things Netflix

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gerrystamour · 11 months

Text

here i have found some peace of mind [chapter two]

Rated E | Steddie

[ PREVIOUS ]

Steve gets to know 'Chris' a lot better. CW: This chapter deals a bit with dysphoria and deadnaming. Steve is deadnamed by a colleague in the chapter (which is based on a situation I actually went through and I'm personally working with HR to address). This chapter also delves into grief a little bit, particularly about the loss of a parent. Because apparently I not only wanted to process my Trans Feelings, but also my Grief Feelings. (Though my relationship with my dad before my dad passed was not strained) NOW INCLUDES AMAZING FANART drawn by my lovely lovely lovely friend Simon @sentient-trash !!

[ READ ON AO3 ]

longing for isolation, for starlit skies

Steve sat at his desk typing up an email to one of the event managers’ clients, quietly grumbling to himself about why he had to email them without any real heat. The managers were busy, and sometimes it just made more sense for Steve to email the clients outright. He would do it, he would just bitch about it while he did it.

“Steve.”

Looking up, he met Joyce’s eyes and cringed under her stern expression.

“Yes, Joyce?” he asked, but he already knew what this was about.

“I was looking through the turnovers. Did Nancy give you a group the other day?” she asked, and Steve looked at his computer.

“It’s just a band and film crew. I’ve already made contact with the client,” Steve said, his ears heating up when Joyce sighed.

“I’d like to speak to you in my office, please,” she said and walked away.

Sighing heavily, Steve finished the email he was working on, sent it, and locked his computer. When he got up and turned, Nancy was hovering at her cubicle and chewing her bottom lip.

“Sorry,” she mouthed, and Steve just rolled his eyes and trudged across the room to Joyce’s office and shut the door.

When he sat down heavily, Joyce sighed again.

“I’m not mad at you, Steve, so you can relax,” she soothed, and Steve tried to do just that. “I’m concerned because I don’t want you burning yourself out again.”

“I know. It’s just rooms, and it’s a band so it’s super easy,” Steve replied quickly. “She wanted me to handle it.”

“Then she should have turned it over properly and put it in the notes that she wanted you to handle it,” Joyce said sternly.

“Nancy seems to think that if she turned it over properly and asked for you to assign it to me, you would assign it to one of the other managers,” Steve said with a knowing raise of his eyebrows when Joyce looked away and cleared her throat. “C’mon, she has a point, Joyce.”

“That’s because if I agreed to assign every group she wants given to you, you would be back in the same mess you were last summer,” Joyce said a bit defensively. “Tell me about the group, and I’ll decide if you can keep it.”

“I already made contact with the client!” Steve said.

“And you were not actually assigned this group properly. If I decide I want to take the group from you, that is my decision to make as your manager,” Joyce said, standing her ground.

Steve sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes. “You would undermine your team like that in the eyes of the client?” he asked, and Joyce pursed her lips.

“And Nancy didn’t undermine me by assigning you a group?” she challenged, and Steve sighed heavily.

“It’s a band and film crew, about twenty rooms if I remember correctly. They’re arriving in July, have already sent the rooming list and the riders, and the tour manager has already received the confirmed rooming list,” Steve rattled off and leaned back in the chair to stare up at one of the motivational posters on the wall above his boss, getting ready for Joyce to take the turnover.

“Is there any catering?” she asked.

“Nope,” Steve replied, trying not to sound dejected. He really liked working with bands and film crews, so the two being combined? He was looking forward to it.

“Steve, you know I’m not trying to punish you, right?” Joyce asked imploringly.

“I know, but you’re also refusing to give me work that you know I actually enjoy,” he replied with a sigh as he looked back at her. “I know you’re worried about me burning out, but that means all I’ve gotten for almost a year has been small little meetings and pop-ups. I haven’t had a single tour, or band, or film crew in months and I’m starting to get sick of my work.”

“Why is this the first you’ve mentioned this?” Joyce asked, and Steve cringed at that.

“Because I knew you were just trying to help me, and I figured if I just kept going without complaining you’d stop babying me,” Steve replied honestly, shrugging one shoulder.

“Oh, Steve, I wasn’t trying to baby you or treat you like you were less capable,” Joyce replied with a big sigh. “And you telling me how you’re feeling about your work is not complaining.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve started, but just trailed off with another shrug. “Just… don’t give it to Tammy. She screws up rooms-only blocks like this every time, and I’ll practically be handling the group anyway.”

Joyce huffed a big sigh and shook her head. “You can keep this group. It has been a while, and I don’t want you burning out because you’re bored either,” she said and Steve looked at her, shocked. She still had a stern expression as she added, “I will be speaking to Nancy about going above me like that.”

“Of course,” Steve said quickly, so happy that he was keeping the group to feel bad that Nancy was going to get chewed out.

“And you! If you’re feeling that way about your work, you tell me, got it?” Joyce added firmly, pointing at him.

“Right, of course, absolutely,” Steve agreed, nodding quickly. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Joyce called and Tammy, one of the event managers, poked her head in.

“Hey guys, sorry to interrupt, but there’s someone calling for Steve?” she said with an apologetic grimace. “He said his name is Chris? I have him on hold right now.”

Steve nodded and turned to Joyce. “Are we good?” he asked, and Joyce smiled and nodded.

“Yep, we’re good,” she replied and waved him off.

When Steve got back to his desk, he heard Tammy speaking to Chris before she transferred the call. Steve picked up on the first ring.

“Good afternoon, Steve speaking?” he said quickly.

“Good afternoon, handsome. How are things going in hotel land?”

Steve chuckled and rolled his eyes a little bit. “Busy, as always. Can’t complain though,” he replied as he tapped his pencil against his notebook. “How can I help you, Chris?”

“What if I just wanted to hear your voice?” Chris teased, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’m on the clock. How can I help you?” Steve asked again, but there was a part of him that was still flattered by the attention, interested in the attention even.

And so began the almost-daily calls from Chris. Steve never actually reached out from his end because there was no reason for him to until they got closer to the actual stay. It was always Chris calling him to make requests, to discuss the area a bit more, or sometimes just to chat. As their work relationship progressed, Steve found it easier to fall into more friendly banter, even returning some of the flirting.

Steve still refused to try to find out who the band was or look Chris up, but mostly because he didn’t want to give a face to the man he was talking to on the phone just yet. He knew that if Chris was even half as hot as he sounded, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

As it stood, most days Chris would call, they would discuss matters pertaining to his band’s stay in July for five minutes, then spend the next twenty just talking about other stuff. Usually, it was just Steve talking about his job and complaining light-heartedly.

“The worst way to receive a rooming list is as a PDF,” Steve grumbled into the phone as he painstakingly copied and pasted a rooming list into a spreadsheet. “Please know that if a Group Housing Coordinator receives a rooming list as a PDF? They hate the client just a little bit.”

On the other end of the call, Chris chuckled before stopping abruptly. Steve smirked a bit as he could practically hear the dots connecting in Chris’ head.

“Didn’t we send our rooming list as a PDF?”

Steve snorted. “Maybe,” he replied cheekily, and Chris groaned.

“Is that why you are resisting my charm?” Chris whined and Steve laughed.

“That, and I’m also on the clock,” he reminded Chris teasingly.

“You could always give me your number?”

Steve sighed and thought back to the employee conduct manual. It would be wildly inappropriate to give a client his number. “Not while you’re my client,” he responded, resolving to pull out the conduct manual and read it over again.

“So… after?” Chris pressed and Steve laughed.

“I’m not making any promises, Chris,” Steve sighed, chewing his lip while a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

There was some shouting on the other end of the call and Chris sighed. “Alright, Stevie, that’s my cue to go in a bit. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Steve almost said yes, but then remembered he had requested the next day off. “No, unfortunately I won’t be in the office tomorrow. I’m taking a personal day,” he replied.

“Oh, doing anything fun or interesting?” Chris asked, and Steve actually grinned at how interested he sounded.

“I wish. Uh, nah, I have appointments and then visiting a cemetery, so,” Steve trailed off with a shrug before cringing. Chris couldn’t see him shrugging, what the hell?

“Oh shit, sorry. That was really stupid of me to ask,” Chris said, and Steve laughed.

“It’s all good, man. I wouldn’t’ve answered if it bothered me,” he admitted and on the other end of the line, Chris chuckled lightly.

“That makes sense. I’ll talk to you another time then.”

“Or you could relax and not call me again about your stay in July,” Steve insisted as he always did when they were about to hang up.

“Mm, no. I think I’ll continue to micromanage our stay, just to keep you on your toes, Stevie,” Chris replied and then hung up.

Steve sighed with a little grin as he hung his receiver up, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

“What the hell was that, Dingus?”

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin and looked up at Robin peering over his cubicle with wide eyes.

“Nothing,” Steve lied, and he could feel his face burning with his blush.

“Stephen, are you flirting with a client?” she hissed as she hurried around the cubicle wall to sit on his desk.

“No,” Steve hissed back, glancing around but thankfully no one was paying attention. “No, he is flirting with me.”

Robin gasped dramatically. “He?” she asked excitedly.

“Did you need something? Because I’m kind of busy,” Steve said, shoving his glasses up to scrub at his face.

“I texted you about food in Dustin’s Office, but you didn’t respond so I came to find you,” she immediately replied, smiling when Steve locked his computer and got up.

“I’m definitely in,” he replied happily.

“We’re talking about everything I overheard tomorrow, you hear me, Harrington?” Robin said as they walked, pointing at him accusingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes with a chuckle.

❖

The next morning, Steve woke up with his normal alarm, even though he technically had the day off. It was a bit nice, being able to get up and not rush through his morning routine. He even had time to make a proper breakfast and eat it while listening to an audiobook.

Steve took his time in the shower and then shaving and doing his hair. With a small grimace, he put on gloves and tried to hold his breath as he smeared his testosterone gel on his shoulders. Holding his breath never seemed to work as the sting of the alcohol evaporating always hit his sinuses.

Once he was showered and groomed, Steve went back to his room to get dressed. “Robbie, time to get up!” he called as he passed Robin’s room, pounding on her door without pausing in his steps.

Forty-five minutes later, Steve and Robin were in the car on their way to the first of several errands and appointments. The two of them tried to schedule as many of their things for the same day as they could so Robin wouldn’t have to worry about catching the bus. Plus, it was generally just better to have company for errands and appointments.

“So, what’s up with you and your client?” Robin asked around a yawn, scrubbing her eyes. She had been working a huge dinner party until two in the morning the night before, and hadn’t gotten home until after three.

“Nothing is up, Robs,” Steve muttered, trying to recall the perfectly good explanations he had come up with for what she overheard yesterday but drawing a complete blank. “He just calls a lot, and he just flirts with me. It’s nothing.”

“Okay, but you were definitely flirting back,” Robin said, and Steve shot a quick glare at her. “C’mon, Steve, I can tell when you’re flirting, and you were definitely flirting. I’ve heard you shutting people down before and you were not doing that. Maybe you thought you were, but you weren’t.”

“Fine, maybe I was flirting back. It’s not like it matters, or like anything’ll come of it. He’ll get bored eventually, and he’s only going to be in town for like… three days,” Steve said explosively, running a hand through his hair. “If we hook-up, and that’s a huge if, it’ll be super casual because he’ll be off to the next place, so, whatever.”

There was a long pause, the silence between them deafening.

“Steve,” Robin finally started, and her voice was the gentle one she only brought out when Steve was being especially reckless. “You know how you are with casual…”

Cringing, Steve tried to wrangle up some kind of defense against that. But it was true, it was largely why he struggled so much with dating and a huge factor in why he and Nancy didn’t work out. Steve’s feelings for people seemed to move at the speed of light with zero in-between, whether they were platonic or romantic. The reason he only had one friend was thanks to Robin being very similar, or at least receptive to having someone immediately prepared to die for her after two proper conversations.

“Like I said, he’ll get bored eventually,” Steve said instead of addressing Robin’s point out loud. “It’s not like he even talks about himself much.”

“Maybe you should ask him about himself,” Robin suggested, shrugging when Steve glanced at her questioningly. “If he’s just in it for some casual sex while he’s in town, he’ll probably avoid opening up, right? But if not… just because he’s not in town long doesn’t mean it has to be casual.”

Steve considered Robin’s words for a few moments, rolling them around in his head. “Maybe,” he conceded after a bit, ignoring the smug smile that split Robin’s face.

A few hours later found the two of them at the big cemetery near the posh neighbourhood where Steve grew up in the suburbs. It was one of the errands Steve dreaded, but he did it every year anyway.

Steve didn’t like visiting graves. It felt performative, fake, like it was an act he was putting on. There were better places for him to visit where he felt closer to that person than their grave. But Steve knew that if his mom arrived tomorrow and there were no flowers from Steve on his dad’s grave, she would immediately call him and demand an explanation.

He didn’t hold it against her, not at all. Melissa Harrington was amazing, even if she wasn’t very present in Steve’s life as he was growing up. She was doing what she could to make up for that, and even now that Steve had moved out to the city, they met up regularly for brunch on the weekends.

Steve’s relationship with his dad had been strained just before his unexpected passing. Thomas Harrington had grand ideas about Steve’s future, and he pushed Steve hard to reach that potential. He hadn’t done it cruelly, by any means, just thoughtlessly and without considering Steve’s wishes at the time. When Steve had gotten his first job at a hotel and fallen in love with hospitality, Thomas was not very happy and made his displeasure known.

Ultimately, though, Thomas had been coming around. He’d started showing an interest in Steve’s work and growth at his property. They were fighting less and enjoying each other’s company more often again.

One of the last conversations Steve had with his dad had been an aborted attempt to come out of the closet. Steve never got the actual words— “Dad, I think I’m a boy…”—but there was something in the way Thomas had gripped his shoulder firmly and pulled him into a tight hug that said he knew and that it was okay.

If Steve had known he wouldn’t get another chance to try again…

After a lengthy walk, they finally arrived at Thomas’ grave and Steve immediately began tidying it up. The graveyard was well maintained, so there wasn’t much for him to do, but it felt better fussing over brushing grass off the gravestone than just standing there. Once he was done, Steve laid the flowers on the grave and stood back up.

Robin had joined Steve on his annual visit to his dad’s grave since the first anniversary of his passing. She never questioned why he didn’t say anything when he was there, and she never tried to make him. It was the one reason he always visited the day before the actual anniversary to avoid running into his mom. Melissa would spend hours at Thomas’ grave talking to the gravestone, and she didn’t understand why Steve couldn’t.

It just felt weird to talk to a slab of granite in the middle of a silent field of slabs of granite. The body six feet below them wasn’t his dad anymore; that body stopped being his dad suddenly and quietly—painlessly, the doctors all insisted—in the middle of the night seven years ago.

“Need more time, Dingus?” Robin asked quietly, and Steve took a deep breath. Reaching up to rub his eyes, he found that he’d been crying.

Quickly wiping the tears off his cheeks, Steve shook his head. “No, I’m good,” he said, and he sighed happily when Robin tucked herself under his arm.

“We should get take-out tonight. We earned it after all our running around, yeah?” she said and wrapped her arm around Steve’s waist.

Steve smiled and nodded. “Yeah, take-out sounds perfect,” he hummed, tugging Robin in tightly against his side to kiss the top of her head.

❖

Returning to work the next day was hard, but Steve needed to keep up the momentum. If he took the rest of the week off like his mom always tried to get him to do, Steve would wallow and come back to work in a worse mood.

Unfortunately for him, he had the absolute displeasure to open his emails to find one of the above-property sales managers deadnaming him to not one, not two, but three different clients.

It wasn’t the first time she used his deadname in an email directly with a client. She did that a lot, and Steve was endlessly patient about it because he knew this came with the territory of not legally changing his name yet. The main system where this sales manager would see his name still had his legal one, and Steve reasoned that she oversaw too many properties to remember his preferred name.

It was different this time.

Good afternoon Martha,

Thank you so much for reaching out about your request to add more rooms to your block! I am connecting you with my amazing on-property colleague Carly (Steve) who will follow-up with you if they have availability. She will be delighted to assist you.

It was the first time she added his preferred name in parentheses like that with a double-whammy of using the wrong pronouns. Steve stared at the email, and then the other two and, yup, sure enough she did the same exact thing in every email. The kicker for him was the fact that the sales manager had, at some point, added her pronouns in her signature.

Steve drafted an absolutely scathing email that would absolutely get him fired if he actually hit send. The vent helped a bit, so he deleted it and focused on actioning the requests and replying to the clients. His signature obviously had his proper name and pronouns, so he hoped politely responding would make her look like the moron she was to the clients.

But he was set even further off-kilter by the whole interaction. On top of his grief, he felt like he was drifting outside of his body, above it and slightly to the left so that he could observe himself. Everything felt wrong, things he hadn’t felt dysphoria over in years crawling back up to suffocate him.

He felt nauseous at the way his hands moved on the keyboard or lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, the way he crossed his ankles under his chair or waved to Nancy as she walked past. Steve laughed at a joke Tammy told him, and the sound of it in his ears was like shards of glass and he just barely concealed his grimace long enough for Tammy to turn away. Steve caught himself chewing his nails at some point because they were too long, people could tell.

Steve was proudly out as trans. He managed to get his pronoun and pride pins approved against his property’s dress code and all of his public social media disclosed that he was trans. All anyone had to do was look him up online and they would know.

That didn’t mean he wanted to be seen as trans all the time.

He knew he was fortunate enough that HRT treated him well and he had been able to afford top surgery, so he “passed” pretty well. That meant he could have the safety of people’s assumptions in situations where that person might be hostile if they found out. Passing made his job a lot easier, even if a lot of his work with clients happened over emails and only face-to-face once they came to the hotel.

To be outed from the get-go in those emails? It, quite frankly, sucked.

The giant shit cherry on top of the shit sundae was that Steve had to renew his security badge with the airport that day, too.

All of his paperwork was under his legal name, obviously, but the security agent the year before had let him put his preferred name on his badge. When he made the same request to the agent this year, she argued with him about it in front of the other people in the pass office. The agent only agreed to put his preferred name on the badge when her manager came around to investigate the hold-up and gave her a stern look.

If Steve wasn’t so raw from everything else, he would have been grateful. However, he just felt sick, like he had bullied them into letting him keep a badge that didn’t have his deadname on it.

Like he was getting away with something because he was a big enough dick about it.

By the time he returned to his desk, he had more emails from the bitch from sales and one of the clients responded asking who “Carly” was, and Steve was ready to go home.

Just then, his phone rang, and he couldn’t even muster the energy to check who it was.

“Chicago In-Terminal Hotel Events, this is Steve speaking. How can I assist you?” he rattled off in his best customer-service voice given the circumstances.

“Heya, Stevie! You kinda sound like shit, man.”

Steve laughed humourlessly, even as something loosened in his chest at hearing Chris’ voice. “Thank God someone knows how to use my actual name,” he blurted before he could stop himself.

There was a pause before Chris sternly said, “Of course. What sort of asshole doesn’t use your actual name if they know it?”

“You’d be surprised,” Steve said vaguely, minimizing his emails so he didn’t have to look at them while on the phone with Chris. “What’s up, Chris?”

“Honestly? I’m just kind of bored and I missed chatting with you yesterday,” Chris replied, and his tone was so sincere that Steve felt bad that he was in such a messed up mood. “I know you’re on the clock, but if you have time…?”

Steve tapped his pencil against his notebook as he considered. He was in a rotten mood, but he already felt himself settling back into his skin, feeling a lot less jagged and wrong just after a couple minutes listening to Chris’ voice. That was a bit scary to consider, given the nature of their relationship. This guy shouldn’t have that much power over Steve’s moods, yet he did.

Remembering Robin’s suggestion from the day before, Steve decided to try that.

“Listen, Chris, I’ve had a really shitty day and talking about myself would suck for you,” Steve started slowly, taking a deep breath. “Maybe you could tell me about you? It feels like I do most of the talking…”

There is another long pause. “I dunno, man, there isn’t much to say about myself…”

Steve’s stomach dropped at the deflection. So, did that mean the interest was just casual on Chris’ end? He didn’t want to open up because he was just looking for a quick fuck, nothing more? Steve lied to himself and decided he could live with that, probably.

“Okay, sure. I’ll have to talk to you some other time then,” Steve said, his voice going tight.

“Steve, wait, don’t hang up. I didn’t—there’s just not a lot to talk about that isn’t already all over the internet, y’know?” Chris laughed a bit and added very quietly, “like, I’m surprised we’re even still talking at all at this rate.”

Steve frowned at the last bit, and reconsidered his decision not to sleuth out who the band was. Were there some shady details surrounding Chris Cunningham or the band he was managing the tour for?

“Dude, you—I haven’t even looked up the band you’re managing. I have no idea who you are,” Steve admitted, and the startled laugh he received brought a smile to his face. “Besides, why would I take what the internet says about you when I could get the real details directly from the source? Would you look at my socials and decide you knew me based on that?”

Chris chuckled. “I mean, I have peeked at your socials, Steve,” he confessed, and Steve felt his blush all the way down to his bellybutton. “I didn’t do much digging, I promise! I just—I’m very visual and wanted to put a face to your voice.”

“No, you’re all good, my public socials are, well, public for a reason,” Steve said with a laugh, chewing his lip a bit. “You, uh, like what you saw?”

Chris gave a quiet groan. “You’ve no idea, big boy,” he confessed softly, his voice deep and rumbling through the line, raising goosebumps up the back of Steve’s neck. Then Chris took a deep breath and asked, “okay, Stevie, what do you want to know about me?”

Everything, Steve almost said, and he barely stopped himself. “You mentioned your uncle once. Can you tell me about him?” he said instead, and Chris’ laugh was beautiful.

“My Uncle Wayne, literally one of the best things to ever happen to me, honestly,” Chris sighed.

“Only one of the best things?” Steve questioned curiously.

“I mean, the band actually breaking onto the scene makes that list,” Chris laughed, then added, “getting to talk to you is on there, too.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughed, blushing at how genuine Chris managed to make that absolute line sound. “Okay, tell me about your uncle.”

“Uncle Wayne basically raised me. I lived with my own folks until I was like, thirteen? I think? Then moved in with Wayne. My old man wasn’t a fan of my lifestyle and all that,” Chris explained, his tone flippant, like it didn’t hurt anymore, but Steve had a feeling that wasn’t true.

“It sucks that your parents were like that,” Steve said quietly, hoping Chris heard the sincerity in his voice.

“Yeah, but hey, I wouldn’t’ve met the boys or—yeah, the boys, y’know? Wayne taught me everything I know about guitars and music and shit,” Chris said fondly.

“You play guitar?” Steve pushed, a little embarrassed at how much more attractive Chris was with that little bit of new information.

There was silence over the line for several moments, long enough for Steve to get concerned the call was about to drop when Chris finally said, “Yeah, uh, like a little bit? I don’t play as much as I used to, and obviously not good enough to actually be in the band or anything.”

Chris was laughing at that in a way that didn’t quite sound forced but it didn’t sound real either. “Well, I still think that’s really cool. Always had a thing for musicians,” he teased instead, smirking at the startled laugh that bubbled out of Eddie.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Stevie,” Chris said, his voice low in a way that had Steve shivering.

The next couple of weeks passed with daily phone calls from Chris where he vaguely talked about his life prior to the band taking off, about the band mates and their antics. He mentioned a YouTube channel briefly once, and Steve was tempted to find it but… he liked getting to know Chris without that crutch. Steve liked the mystery of not knowing what Chris looked like.

Steve was really smitten with the way Chris talked about the people in his life, the way his tone would turn so painfully affectionate that Steve could see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Did Chris have dimples? He hoped Chris had dimples. Steve was always a sucker for dimples. Steve couldn’t help but wonder if Chris told his friends about their conversations, and if Chris spoke about him with that same tone.

If Steve also became a bit more active and a bit sluttier on his socials knowing Chris was maybe monitoring them, that was his business.

“You seem really close with the band for a tour manager,” Steve commented one day after Chris told him a funny story about the frontman nearly falling off the stage during a recent soundcheck. Apparently, he went to lean on his cane purely out of habit, forgetting he wasn’t using it at that moment, and was barely saved by one of the other band members.

“We’ve all been best friends since, like, middle school,” Chris said quietly, and Steve’s smile was big enough to hurt his face. “The band got serious about the dream in high school and then the five of us just… did what we had to to stay together.”

“That’s amazing. I only have, like, one friend that I’ve had more than a year,” Steve said, and he cringed at how pathetic that sounded.

“C’mon, no way,” Chris laughed, and Steve cringed again.

“I’m serious, man. I was… I used to be an asshole,” Steve confessed lightly, thinking back to the way he was in high school and his only attempt at college.

It was a lot of desperately performing a gender that felt wrong and overcompensating for his feelings of inadequacy. He remembered the way he lashed out and held people at arm’s length, the way he would sling cutting remarks at anyone who seemed to be thriving in their own weirdness. How dare they be weird and happy, when Steve had been trying so hard to be normal and was so miserable for it?

Steve felt bad for Carly when he looked back on those memories. She wasn’t real and, on some level, she knew that, even back then when she had no vocabulary for it. Not being real was scary, confusing, painful, and like a wounded animal she bit and clawed anyone who came near enough to see how hollow she was.

That didn’t mean Steve stood by those actions, that he didn’t feel immensely guilty for them, but he was working on showing compassion to that part of himself. It was something he learned in therapy the handful of times he actually went.

“Hm, well, you don’t seem like an asshole anymore,” Chris said, breaking Steve out of his thoughts.

“I’m trying everyday not to be,” Steve agreed, smiling as he tapped his pencil against his notebook.

Chris paused for a bit, sighing. “Go to dinner with me,” he said abruptly. “We’re at the hotel for three nights, right? Go to dinner with me.”

Steve’s breath left him in a whoosh at the blunt request. It was more of a command and that thought left Steve feeling a bit lightheaded. “You’re my client—” Steve started, and Chris made a bit of a noise.

“The way I see it, I stop actually being your client at five that Friday when you clock-out, right?” Chris said a bit suggestively, and Steve blushed.

Steve had looked up the employee conduct manual and the official rules were that dating clients was allowed as long as it happened off the clock and off-property. Their phone calls were blatantly against those rules, but they discussed enough about the room block each time to justify the conversations a little bit.

“Stevie?” Chris sounded so unsure that Steve instantly felt bad for letting his brain run away with him.

“It definitely has to be when I’m off the clock, and we can’t have dinner on-property,” Steve practically whispered into the phone and Chris made a triumphant little noise that brought a grin to Steve’s face.

“Fuck yeah, Stevie, I can’t wait! I know the perfect place!” Chris gushed and then some shouting in the background caught Chris’ attention. “Yeah! I know—I’ll be there in a—fuck off Garebear, I’ll fucking cut you—Stevie, I gotta go, okay?”

Steve laughed and nodded. Grimacing as he reminded himself that Chris couldn’t see him, Steve said, “yeah, of course. Talk to you later.”

“You know it, gorgeous,” Chris cooed and then dial-tone was droning in Steve’s ear.

It took Steve probably a full minute to actually hang the receiver up and wipe the grin off his face.

[ NEXT ]

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