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cupid-styles · 2 months

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valentine's day (nerdrry x camgirl!yn)

word count: 3.5k

content warnings: smut! (exhibitionism, toys/bondage, daddy kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, overstimulation)

original nerdrry x camgirl!yn story

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. . .

Most mornings, Y/N can’t remember where she fell asleep the night before.

It’s not because she’s a bad sleeper or has chronic insomnia or anything like that. In actuality, in the past few months that she and Harry have officially started their relationship, they find it nearly impossible to be apart for the night. Y/N hates waking up without feeling his warm body pressed up against hers, his chest curled into the form of her back and his arm looped around her waist, while Harry dreads the feeling of her cold, unmade side of the bed when she’s not there.

So, even with warnings of codependency tucked into the logical portions of their brains, they try not to worry. Instead, they enjoy winter evenings made just a tad bit toastier with the presence of the other: Fuzzy socks and steaming cups of tea, bubble baths and eucalyptus soap-scented kisses, soft palms pressed against one another as they read their respective books in a bedroom bathed in a soft golden light.

It’s good — Y/N thinks it’s all really good, and she’s really happy, and she doesn’t care that it’s Valentine’s Day because every other day that she’s spent with Harry has her walking around with hearts in her eyes, even if her friends tease her over it. But Harry is Harry and he does care — he cares a lot, actually.

He promises her he won’t go all out. She even makes him wrap his pinkie around hers and pledge not to get scammed by buying expensive, overpriced flowers and chocolates. And he doesn’t — he listens to Y/N and opts for a far more lowkey version of what he had envisioned for her.

But right now, Beatrice, his sweet, gray haired cat, is ruining it.

Beatrice is ruining it!

“Bea,” Harry hisses. The cat’s eyes barely blink open and she stays firmly placed on top of Y/N’s chest, where she’s apparently decided to take real estate this morning. “Beatrice Styles, get down!”

He’s trying his best not to speak too loudly to avoid waking Y/N before her surprise, but his hands are full so he can’t scoop Beatrice up and nudge her tush out of the room like he normally does. (Y/N hates having sex with her in the room, explaining that it’s guaranteed to scar her “poor, innocent eyes”, so both Harry and Beatrice are used to the routine by now.) And perhaps this is payback for all the times he’s kicked her out because he swears he’s never seen her so stubborn before.

“Beatrice Stevie Styles, if you don’t get down right now—”

“Are you threatening your cat?”

Harry huffs when he hears Y/N’s croaky morning voice rasp out from above the covers. He shuffles to the edge of the bed and gently puts down the tray he’s holding and leans forward to grab Beatrice’s plump body.

“No,” he mutters, “She just chose a very inopportune time to be… evil.”

Y/N hums non-committedly as Harry places Beatrice down. She hasn’t yet cracked her eyes open, which sends a bolt of excitement through his chest — he still has a chance at surprising her.

“Keep your eyes closed please,” he says as he curls his hands through the wooden handles of the tray.

“To be honest, I think I kind of liked having her on my chest— it was like a soft, suffocating weight. Almost like a weighted blanket, maybe?”

“Y/N,” Harry warns, and she peeps an eye open to see her boyfriend hovering over her, “Y/N! Didn’t I say to keep your eyes closed?”

“Oh! Still?”

He sighs, flashing her an annoyed look before lowering slightly to show her the array of breakfast foods diligently placed over the maple-hued wood: heart shaped pancakes, fruit cut into stars, her favorite tea in a mug with her initial on it. It instantly makes her grin, sitting up hurriedly against the blue velvet of Harry’s headboard.

“This is so sweet,” she coos, looking up at him with a wide smile. The frustration sitting in Harry’s body instantly melts away and he grins back at her, heart squeezing slightly at the tired puffiness in her eyes. “Thank you so much, H. This is perfect.”

“Yeah?” he asks as he slowly places the board down. She moves her book out of the way so he has room on the nightstand. “I know you said nothing big, so…”

“So this is perfect,” she emphasizes. She scooches over and pats the empty spot next to her, encouraging him to lay down next to her. “Happy Valentine's Day. I’m sorry Beatrice and I ruined your big surprise.”

Harry snorts, grabbing the small bowl of fruit and handing it to her. She accepts it graciously and pops a strawberry between her lips before feeding him a blueberry.

“She’s been getting naughtier lately. I think you’re inspiring some bad female energy I didn’t know she had.”

“Or maybe you were just stifling her energy,” Y/N points out, “She needed a cool camgirl in her life to bring it out.”

“Right,” he mumbles playfully and Y/N giggles, elbowing his ribs lightly.

“Speaking of which. You’re still fine with me streaming tonight?”

He shrugs as he leans over to grip her mug, carefully maneuvering the full cup of tea. He sets it on his lap, welcoming the warm feeling between his palms.

“It doesn’t bother me at all, baby. You know that.”

It’s the truth, too — Harry’s willing to recognize that streaming is part of her lifestyle. It’s more than just a job for her, especially considering her 9 to 5 position as a graphic designer is still rather lackluster. In the months that they’ve dated, they’ve had many conversations about it: why she liked streaming and had no plans to give it up, mainly. She viewed it as a form of sexual freedom and autonomy over her own body and the money certainly sweetened the deal. Who was Harry to argue with that?

The only thing that’s changed is her schedule. Since bringing someone new into her life — someone who she cared for and wanted to spend time with — she revised her daily streams to three times a week. She also posted additional photos and videos for members to supplement both the income she was losing, and the content her viewers weren’t getting.

Valentine’s Day is different, though. She’d asked Harry a few weeks back if he cared if she went online that day and honestly, he didn’t. He knows that if he didn’t have her, he would probably look to watching her stream to feel just a little less lonely. And while he wasn’t entirely too keen on sharing his girlfriend with the world, he also knew that they were committed to one another. They were grateful for that stupid website and her dedication to it, otherwise they never would have met.

“I just feel bad,” she says with a sigh, referring to her plan to stream this evening, “Feel like I’m making a fucked up choice.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s not like we have plans or anything, and you know I’m fine with it. Don’t feel bad.”

Y/N hands him the bowl so she can curl into his side. He welcomes her, eagerly wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her hair.

“It’ll just be a few hours and then you can come over and spend the night,” he murmurs, ducking his thumb beneath the fabric of her tee-shirt to rub circles into the skin. “Or I can come to you if you’re too tired. Whatever works.”

That seems to light a spark in her brain because she’s suddenly sitting back up. Harry’s staring at her and trying not to smile at her wild bed head, but the slightly thrilled look in her eyes is a bit distracting anyway.

“Remember that time we talked about you being with me while I stream?”

Harry raises his eyebrows slowly.

“Like, being in the room with me… telling me what to do… you remember that, right?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, I remember that.”

“What if we do that?” she asks, shifting onto her knees. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable. But you could be behind the camera and you could just… I don’t know, dominate me from there. Is that hot? Or is it a stupid—”

“Hot,” he cuts her off before coughing into his hand. “Definitely hot.”

She grins. “You think so? We could use that toy I got us forever ago, too. From when we met.”

His chest starts to feel warm as he nods eagerly. “T-The vibrator?”

“Yeah!” she nods excitedly. “So you can control it while I’m streaming, too. Does that sound okay?”

He swallows tightly and tries to will away the hardness thickening up in his briefs.

“I like that a lot.”

“Okay,” she’s smiling at him widely, completely unaware of just how appealing the situation sounds to him. She leans forward to press a light kiss to his lips. “Do you wanna finish breakfast and then shower? I have to be at the office—”

Suddenly, he’s pinning her down against the array of messy blankets scattered over the bed, a sinful smirk on his lips.

“I want you to shut up and let me fuck your face so I don’t accidentally bust when I spend my whole day thinking about tonight.”

She’s giggling loudly, the sound of sunshine and bells chiming in the wind, before dropping her mouth open.

. . .

Y/N spends way too much time tying a heart-shaped shibari harness around her chest, but it’s entirely worth it the second Harry sees her that evening.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, drinking her appearance in. His throat instantly dries as his eyes scan over her lacy pink lingerie set and she warms beneath his gaze, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“Do you like it?” she asks, pushing her chest out slightly.

“Do I like it?” he repeats breathily, running the pads of his fingertips down the length of her chest. He tucks his knuckles beneath the vertical rope and tugs lightly, making her gasp. “You look incredible, baby.”

“Thank you,” she giggles, intertwining her fingers with his free hand, “Are you still feeling alright about this?”

He nods and she smiles, guiding him over to her streaming setup in her spare room. She bounces down on the futon and squeezes his hand. He’s never been on this side of things before, so he has to admit that it’s fascinating and exciting to see it all from her perspective instead of a private tab on his phone.

They discuss the logistics of things before she clicks ‘live’, mainly just in case either one of them gets uncomfortable and wants to stop. In lieu of a safe word, they settle on a motion of tugging their ear three times to signal that they no longer wanted to take part. They decide that Y/N would immediately log off and they would discuss what went wrong — but if both of them are being honest, they’re both bubbling with excitement.

And, with her toy on and ready to go, Harry perched on a chair behind her laptop, Y/N starts her stream.

He swallows nervously and she sends him a wink, a silent, flirtatious reassurance that everything will be just fine. She nibbles on her lip as she waits for the chat room to fill up, a small smile forming as messages begin to float in.

“Happy Valentine’s Day my loves,” she greets cheekily, shifting onto her knees. Her heels dig into her bum as she wiggles excitedly, glancing up at Harry. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips as his eyes scan over her chest and down to her covered core, zeroing in on where her vibrator is inserted firmly inside of her. He palms himself through his briefs as she makes small talk with her viewers.

She leans back and splits her thighs open to reveal a string of lace barely covering her pussy. He swallows back a groan.

“Are you excited to watch me play?” Y/N asks, eyes flickering to the male sitting across from her. It wasn’t her plan, but she can’t help ignoring the chats coming through, instead too enamored by the fact that her boyfriend is watching her. And, as if he can read her mind, Harry nods before mouthing the words touch your tits.

Immediately, she does as she’s told. She pulls the fabric of her bralette down and swirls a finger in her mouth. She pinches her nipples and whimpers softly, back arching slightly.

“Know you love my tits, daddy,” she whimpers, her gaze set on Harry, “They’re all yours. Every bit of me belongs to you.”

With a smirk, he pulls the remote to her vibrator out and clicks it on. She instantly moans at the low sensation pressed deep against her g-spot, eyes rolling back from the intense pressure.

“Touch yourself for me,” she pleads, trailing her fingers down her stomach. She plucks at the straps of her underwear and wordlessly looks to Harry for permission. He nods, and not a second later she’s pulling them down her legs and tossing them to the floor. “Shit— do you see how wet I am for you, daddy?”

The chat goes crazy when they see the vibrator inserted deep inside of her. She can feel her pussy already begin to pulsate around the small silicone toy and she reaches out to grip the blanket beneath her. She only glances up when she hears the familiar sound of slick passes, a whimper leaving her lips when she realizes Harry’s jerking his cock to the sight of her falling apart.

“So good,” she moans, their eyes locked. He stares at her intensely, his gaze only turning her on even more. “Can I touch my clit, please? N-need more.”

Beg, he mouths.

“Please, daddy— fuck, please let me touch my clit, daddy!”

He smirks as he squeezes the base of his length. “Go ahead.” He murmurs lowly, quiet enough so only she can hear him.

Y/N makes hurried motions to circle her clit tightly, whimpering loudly from the much needed stimulation. Her eyes are shut tightly when he turns her vibrator up another notch, eliciting a sharp gasp on her end.

“Oh my god,” she mewls, “I’m gonna cum— fuck, please, can I cum? Please, please—“

Harry cuts her off with another quiet response: “Ask them, not me.”

She can hardly keep her eyes open long enough to read through the responses coming through the chat. It’s an evil punishment, especially when he turns her vibrator up again. Her legs are shaking as she sits up on her elbows, the slightest bite of pain nearly pushing her over the edge from the rope digging into her chest.

“Please, I need to cum,” she begs pathetically, trying to scan over the messages in the chat:

No!!! Edge urself

Cum for us baby

Go ahead

Such a good girl

It’s too much for her to process — the toy is vibrating aggressively against the soft spot deep inside of her and she can’t hold it in much longer. She moans, unable to keep herself from reaching her peak, her muscles tightening and her pussy pulsating. A slew of curses fall from her lips as she rides her orgasm out, eyes rolling back into her skull.

It’s the most delicious feeling, especially knowing Harry is sitting across from her and watching it all happen. Her eyes flicker up to him for permission to take a break, hoping his thumb is already brushing over the off button on the remote, but instead she’s met with a smirk she knows all too well. He looks borderline sadistic as she gasps, their eyes locked when he turns the toy on even higher.

“Oh,” she breathes out, laying back against the mess of blankets beneath her. At this point, she knows all anyone can see is the mess of arousal between her legs. It’s embarrassing and perfect.

“‘s a lot,” she slurs out. She thinks she hears Harry chuckle but she’s not sure. “Fuck— fuck, I think— have another—“

“You do,” this time she’s sure of his quiet voice, hushed so his words are only for her ears. “You have another one in there for me.”

Her knees are bent and knocking together as she wedges her hands between her thighs. She has to do something to ground herself; a half-assed attempt at mitigating the intense pleasure filling her body.

“Inside,” he commands from across the room. She moans, but only because he’s asking more of her. “Put your fingers inside or don’t touch yourself at all.”

She chooses the former because it somehow seems easier, quickly pushing two fingers into her pulsating hole alongside the small vibrator. Harry fills her up more than this but the knowledge of what she’s doing as his direction is incredibly hot. It doesn’t matter that she’s taken more and abused her pussy far more than this before — especially not when she’s a desperate submissive for Harry, willing to do whatever he asks of her.

The slight stretch of her pussy feels delicate and delicious and she can barely gurgle out the words I’m coming before it’s happening. Harry groans at the sight, slicking himself and pumping faster as her ribbon unravels, a small burst of liquid gushing from the movements of her fingers.

As soon as her peak slowly begins to taper off, she’s too exhausted to notice him rise from his seat. She gasps when he shuts her laptop closed before she even has a chance to say goodbye to her viewers. Instead, he leans down to wrap his hand around the rope secured around her chest, pushing her down against the soft fabric of the couch.

“You’re gonna take my cum all over that dirty little pussy,” he growls, pumping his cock quickly in his palm. She’s too stunned and turned on to reply so she quickly nods her head, parting her pussy lips with v-shaped fingers. The toy is still vibrating inside of her, sending aftershocks through her body.

“Good fucking girl,” he grumbles throatily. The sight of her wet center is enough to send him barreling to his orgasm, a series of groans toppling from his mouth as he sprays his seed across her pussy. “Fuck, there you go, baby, take it all.”

She whimpers at the feeling of his warm cum painting her core. As soon as he finishes, she makes quick work to yank the vibrator out, her body entirely too exhausted and overstimulated to stand it for another second.

Harry’s panting loudly as he lowers to his knees and presses a few light kisses to her thigh. He catches his breath as she runs her fingers through his curly hair, coming down from her own influx of lust. She’s unsure of how long they stay like that but eventually, Harry stands up to kiss her forehead.

“Gimme a sec to clean you up,” he murmurs. She nods, allowing her eyes to fall shut. A few moments later, he returns with a damp towel and gently swipes over her core. They settle into a comfortable silence as he does so, and he lays down next to her when he’s finished. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her sleepy form into his side. Exhausted, she allows him to maneuver her.

“Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?” He asks softly. Y/N hums as she buries her head into the crook of his neck.

“The best,” she murmurs, “How about you?”

“The best.” He echoes with a small smile. The quiet returns but neither of them want to fill it. He thinks she’s fallen asleep, assuming he’ll have to help guide her to the shower (which she’ll give him shit about, surely) when she shifts a bit, pressing her cheek into the comforter to look at him.

“I love you, you know.”

It's the first time she's said that to him. It feels like a million fireworks are going off, filling him and making it seem as though he's bursting at the seams with the same love and adoration for the girl next to him.

If he's being honest, he thinks he's known he's loved her — and she's loved him — for awhile now: Through small gestures like when he makes her bed in the morning because she's running late for work, or when she quietly fills up Beatrice's bowls with food and water when he's in a meeting. Bigger things, too — her taking the day off for his birthday and doing whatever he wants, all day. Or the time she picked up two of his favorite scent of candle because they were on sale, or when she's had a bad day so he surprises her with her favorite meal (garlic chicken stir fry with extra cilantro) via meal delivery service because he knows she wants to be alone.

"Yeah," he nods with a smile, "I do know. I love you, too."

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thegoblinboy · 1 year

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Whenever Steve and Eddie ever get into a inconvenient argument (which are rare) Eddie always makes sure to storm to his room before it can be resolved. He has even gone as far as forcing Steve to break up with him for a solid twenty minutes. (Of course they don’t really break up) Only so he can blare “Goodbye to Romance” by Ozzy. Like I love this idea that Steve is Eddie’s first person he’s ever dated and possibly the last and he’s irrationally upset he doesn’t get to have the full effect of break up music. Just-

Eddie: *music blaring from his his room with the door closed*

Dustin: What pissed in his cheerios?

Steve: *calmly reading a newspaper* I broke up with him

Eddie: *faintly in the background yelling as the song loops and restarts again* everybody’s having fun, except me I’m the lonely one, I live in shaaaameee. I say Goodbye to romance!

Dustin: you what?!

Eddie: *aggressively singing louder* I’VE BEEN THE KING IVE BEEN THE CLOWN NOW BROKEN WINGS CANT HOLD ME DOWN- I’m free again THE JESTER WITH THE BROKEN CROWN IT WONT BE ME THIS TIME.

*loud smacking noise*

Steve: *not looking up from what he was reading* you okay munson!

Eddie: Stevie? Can you help me?

Steve: *folding the paper up as he calmly stands up stretching a bit, checking his watch* that was barely five minutes of being single and he’s nearly killed himself. Welp, now I have to ask him to by boyfriend for the numerous time this week.

#headcannon #Steddie #Eddie munson is dramatic #Steve harrington just goes with it #stranger things #incorrect quotes

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

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falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?��

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #birthday fic

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

Text

Happy trails, John.

A/N: I've been meaning to write the captain my captain but he's my holy grail—look but not touch even though I'd beg him to let me make him lonches at 4 am. Also, I watch Die Hard every Christmas because it IS a Christmas movie, argue with your demons. In response to @glitterypirateduck's prompt thing which inspired to me to write something cute and civilized.

“Just once, I’d like a regular, normal Christmas. Eggnog, a fucking Christmas tree, a little turkey. But no. It’s always ‘Die Hard’.”

“John, love. You’re being overdramatic. It’s just the holidays with my parents.”

You rolled your eyes as you stuffed your clothes into the luggage bag, preparing for the trip.

“I know, love, but I wanted to spend a quiet Christmas with my wife— but no, the in-laws have to call with their ‘Come out to the coast, we’ll get together, have a few laughs…’ ", he said with a mocking lilt in his voice.

You snicker and say, “I promise we’ll leave as soon as it’s polite.”

“Sure, sure, I go out and keep the world safe just so when I can get a little reprieve, it’s to not spend it alone with my wife. I’m feeling a little fuckin’ underappreciated.”

You closed the zipper on your bag and went over to the bathroom where John was grumbling his displeasure. Looping your arms around his waist, cheek to his shoulder blade you say, “It’s just Christmas, hun. We’ll have New Year's all to ourselves and we can even have the boys over to celebrate. I’ll even tell you what I got you for Christmas.”

That seems to distract him a bit, as he turns his head a tad with a curious tilt.

“I bought you a Lagavulin 16-year aged single malt scotch.”

His eyes warm with appreciation and he lets out a resigned sigh.

“Right, then. Let’s get this over with.”

Stepping out of the bathroom, you turn to look at the time.

“Jesus Christ, John! We’re gonna need a miracle to get to the airport on time!”

You’re hastily grabbing your bags, yanking them off the bed and you see John on the phone.

“John! Get your bag—”

Suddenly, there are tires screeching outside on the driveway. John walks past you with his bag and picks up yours as well, before jerking his head at you towards the front door.

“You wanted a miracle. I give you— The TaskForce 141”, John says, tossing the bags in the trunk of a truck that has Ghost, Johnny, and Gaz in it.

You don’t even care to question why they’re here— you just hop in the back seat immediately and buckle up.

John’s foot is barely inside the truck when it’s speeding off, tires screeching on the pavement. The entire drive has you almost nauseous with the jerky turns and harsh brakes. At a particularly abrasive step of the gas that has your neck jerking back towards the headrest of the seat, you turn towards John with a white-knuckle grip on the driver and passenger seat— you ask “Who’s driving this car? Stevie Wonder?!”

Johnny, sweet Johnny turns with a confused furrow on his brow and says, “Whad’ya mean, lass? It’s just L.T.”

You’re at the airport in no time with the no-question illegal speed Ghost drove at, and you’re stumbling out of the vehicle with shaky legs. At least you made it.

Gaz grabs the bags from the trunk and places them on the floor but you’ve already run off to check in before it’s too late. John thanks Ghost for the help and after Johnny is rolling his window down— “I heard you’re going to America. To California, specifically.”

John grunts in annoyance at remembering the trip, and he sees Johnny grin cheekily at him before he says, “Yippy-ki-yay, motherfucker!”

#CODHOLIDAY2023 #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price fanfic #price x reader #price x you #john price x you #cod mwii #cod mw2

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scoops-stevie-archive · 11 months

Text

@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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wynnyfryd · 5 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 25

part 1 | part 24 | ao3

cw: throwing up, recreational alcohol & drug use

“Well, thank fuck I didn’t wear the Reeboks,” Eddie laughs.

Steve groans 'Jesus,' because he doesn't know what else there is to say to that. Eddie came out of nowhere. Materialized like some kind of freaky wizard. And that would— that would be on brand, wouldn’t it?

Eddie the magician. Eddie the shapeshifter.

Maybe Eddie is Misty? Would explain why she left him all those dead rats when he first—

“Oh, fuck.” His stomach rolls at the thought, a hot-cold-nasty-sick shiver down his spine, and he bends forward to retch again. Hits the grass this time at least, right between Eddie’s boots; groans and spits drool into the dirt. Eddie smooths a hand between his shoulder blades, which is nice, even if everything else about this totally blows.

“Godddd,” he moans when the dry heaving stops. He lifts his head to apologize and nearly tips himself into the mess he just made.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey; easy,” Eddie shushes, steadying him with both hands. Warm palms against his biceps; firm grip.

“S’nice.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grins, private and soft. "Alright, arms up."

"Mmh?"

"Up! Come on, sweetheart, up you get." He loops Steve’s arms around his neck, wearing him like a cape. Steve giggles into his fluffy curls, nuzzles his nose into them because they're warm and Eddie smells nice, and time does that weird drunk thing where Steve slow blinks and suddenly they're a hundred yards away.

Edge of the creek, downstream from the falls where the water’s just a thin squiggle cut through smooth, mossy stone. Eddie's got Steve facedown across his lap, gathering up his hair and making a headband with his hands, and he's apologizing in advance for Steve-doesn't-know-what.

"Big breath," Eddie warns him, and then he dips Steve's face in the icy stream like he's battering fried chicken in a goddamn egg wash. Two quick dunks, the cold ripping through Steve's nerves; it's all finger-licking fucked.

"What the hell?!" Steve splutters when Eddie lifts him up, rolls him onto his back and smiles down at him.

"Mornin', sunshine!"

"Jesus Christ!"

Eddie's laughing at him hard. "Sorry, big boy. Had to wake you up somehow."

He brushes Steve's bangs off his face, and Steve pants up at him, wide awake now. Trembling. In the dark, Eddie's eyes look nearly black. Two inkpots full of moonlight.

“'M awake," Steve mumbles to distract himself from the sudden kick-throb behind his ribs. "Sorry I barfed on your shoes."

“Ah, comes with the territory.” Eddie kicks his legs out, rinsing the toes of his boots off in the stream. “Drug dealer, remember? Seen a lot worse than this at parties, sweetheart, I can promise you that."

Steve blinks at him. Still feels syrupy and slow like he's wading through mud. Sweetheart. The word's a fog machine in his mind. Hazy warmth; candy clouds. "If... If you're a drug dealer, then... should've woken me up with drugs."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm. Jus' rude not to, really."

Eddie's lips quirk. His eyes are soft, his fingers combing through Steve's hair, and Steve's head is still in his lap, even though it probably shouldn't be. "If you want coke..." he murmurs, his voice a low, fond rumble, "you can just ask for it."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, Stevie."

Steve watches with rapt attention as Eddie reaches into his jacket, pulls out a little baggie and holds it up in question. Steve gulps; nods.

Fuck yeah. He hasn't had coke in forever.

Eddie pours the smallest amount onto the back of one hand, licks the thumb of his other and presses it into the pile, coating it in white powder. He brings it up to Steve's mouth and rests it right against his lip — barest hint of pressure; not hovering, not pushing in. "Well, go on," he smirks.

Steve makes a questioning sound that comes out like a whine, a high, nasal thing in the back of his throat. His cock stirs in his jeans.

"Ask me," Eddie whispers.

"Can I have it?" Steve asks. He can feel Eddie's thumb against his lips as he speaks; has to stop himself from flicking out his tongue to get a taste. "Please?"

"Fuck," Eddie hisses between his teeth. "Yeah, baby." He presses into the meat of Steve's bottom lip; drags it down, exposes skin that's wet and warm. Dances over it with the pad of his thumb — the inside of Steve's lip, his gums, his tongue.

There's no mistaking the sound Steve makes for anything but a moan, throaty and deep as he sucks Eddie's thumb deeper into his mouth; hollows his cheeks, makes Eddie gasp. Makes him twitch his hips up under Steve, and it's good, and Steve feels like there are live wires where his veins used to be, the rush of the coke and Eddie's hands and Eddie's noises in his good ear, and—

"Hey!" someone shouts across the field. Eddie moves like he's been shot at, flinching away from Steve entirely, a hand pressed over his lap as he turns to see who's coming.

Steve lifts his head to look. His mouth is buzzing, lips full and flushed like he's been kissing someone. Kissing Eddie. God, he wants to. Wants to hike him up the falls, shove him hard against a tree.

But he can't. Because Jason Carver's here now.

Great.

—

part 26

gonna do the tag lists in separate reblogs from now on (with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content), comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic #cw: alcohol #cw: drugs

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stevesbipanic · 1 year

Text

Loop Number 83

"No no no! Eddie! Stay with me please stay with me!"

It wasn't supposed to end like this. He'd saved Robin, he'd finally saved Robin. He had felt such a weight of his shoulders when he saw Vecna dead and Robin was still holding his hand. She was still holding him now.

The screams that had ripped through the radio would haunt Steve for loops to come, but for now, after running through the forest as fast as he could, he held Eddie as he died.

"It's ok, big boy, we did it, sorry you weren't the hero this time."

Steve watched for the first time as Eddie slowly closed his eyes, his chest going still and his body going cold. Steve closed his eyes with him and begged for another chance, he could fix this, if he saved Robin then he could fix this too.

He woke up to his alarm clock and tried to push away the feeling of Eddie's blood on his hands.

"I'll fix this, Eds."

#eddies first death in the loop #stevies time loop #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #st4 #steddie #stranger things season 4 #time loop #go read the other ones #ficlet

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luveline · 7 months

Note

Hi Jade! I wanted to request something with Prince Steve and his soulmate. I feel like we’ve started to see them warm up to each other but maybe we could see reader start to meet Steve’s friends and see that she’s got more people standing behind her? Like maybe Robin and Eddie teasing Steve about something embarrassing in front of her or I know she hasn’t shown up yet but I could totally see Nancy as like a lady in waiting/tutor to teach her all about proper manners but in the process she spills all these stories about Steve growing up?

thank you for requesting ♡ prince steve au fem, 1k

A knock at the door, an impatient huff. "Are you ready yet?"

"Come in, Steve."

He wedges into your rooms, a basket in his hands. "Why are you on the floor?"

"Can't tie my stupid shoes," you complain, dropping your hands down, knee pulled up, too warm for all the fuss.

Steve nearly drops the basket, he's that enthusiastic to help you out. He kneels by your feet and takes the laces of your shoes into his hands, pulling them tight, his eyebrows pinched tighter. "That okay?" he asks, pausing his loop.

"Yeah. Thank you."

"They didn't teach you how to tie your shoes back home? We need outreach immediately."

You laugh and lay back on the plush rug behind you. "It's the weird eyelets. You royals do everything weird. Like picnicking."

"So many points. These aren't eyelets, they're lace hooks. You're pretty much as royal as I am, or you will be in a matter of days. And," —he finishes tying your boot, pulling the other toward him with a small laugh— "Robin wanted a picnic. She's not royal. None of your points make any sense."

"You'll be a wretched husband."

Steve takes your hands and pulls you up into a sitting position. He doesn't let them go, transferring both into one so he has a hand free to straighten up your cardigan. "And you'll be a cherished wife."

Steve pulls you onto your feet. Together, you walk through the selenite halls of the palace to the prince's private gardens, where a gazebo the colour of the sky stands shading refreshments from the eager sun. Helping themselves to the hors d'oeuvres are a tall Eddie and a shorter partner in crime, Robin. Nancy lays out in the grass next to who you assume to be her boyfriend, a handsome guy with two books in his hands, still closed. He squints in the sun, waving as you and Steve approach.

"Hey!" he greets. "You're late."

"Don't get up," Steve jokes, waving back at him and Nancy, who's barely lifted her head. "Not like I'm anyone important."

"Very, very hard to find you important when you're wearing shorts," Eddie says.

Steve shrugs. "She likes them."

You realise belatedly and with horror that you're she. How does he know you like his nice shorts? Either way, his indifference so long as you like them makes you flush, leaving his side in search of a cold drink to drown yourself in.

"Did you bring the bat?" Steve asks Jonathan behind you.

"Hey, babe," Eddie says, offering you a glass cup set with pressed flowers in the sides, "you okay?"

"Is that lemonade?" you ask, pointing at one of the small water dispensers. Their glass shells shine with condensation, more ice cubes than liquid inside. It's a cloudy white with blood orange slices cut and garnishing the top, their juice seeping downward slowly.

"Sure is. Prince Stevie's favourite, as always. Don't know where the sudden love for oranges came from, do you?"

You've had a love for them since you got here and tried them for the first time. Oranges are expensive, and so the palace kitchen has them in abundance. Steve clearly noticed. "Wouldn't you know?" you ask. "Don't you choose his meals?"

"As if. I'm a glorified cleaning boy," Eddie says. He scoops a bagel covered in cream cheese and fresh cut salmon from a silver tray and takes a big bite. "Just stick around for the food."

"They won't let him back into the engineers workshop on account of his bad manners, he'll be a dishwasher forever," Robin says grandly, rounding the table to stand on your other side.

"Says you, lady's maid."

Robin was supposed to be a lady's maid. Sick gig, good pay, she had all the grades and none of the decorum, but Steve wouldn't let them get rid of her, and after an intense training program that taught her to wield a titanium blade longer than her arm as an extension of it, she was instated as his personal guard instead. They're all job hoppers —Nancy started as a lady's maid but now apprentices as a royal tutor, and her boyfriend worked for the palace's news room but now works under the sous chef.

You did anything you could to stay alive, and now your full time job is princess, so. You're not judging.

"What's Nancy's boyfriends name?" you whisper. "Jon?"

"Jonathan. I don't think anybody calls him Jon," Robin whispers back.

"She's lying. His name is Gordon." Eddie glares at Robin. "She's trying to trip you up."

A smack erupts through the air, chased by Steve's pleased whoop. "Yes! Baby, did you see that?"

"I'm not trying to trip you up," Robin says, "don't listen."

"She totally is."

"Baby?" Steve calls, yards away in the bluegrass, a bat held at his side. "Guys, stop harassing her. Jesus."

"We're not harassing her, Stevie, slow your roll. This is a common social phenomenon called teasing, maybe you've heard of it? You do it with friends," Eddie says, nudging your arm.

Friends, you think. Steve's looking at you, waiting for confirmation that you're alright. "I didn't see it, Steve. Do it again!"

Steve immediately jogs backwards, goading Jonathan into pitching another ball. He has a good arm, the ball soaring just right for Steve to curl back and send it wide across the green grass of the garden. It hits a long banner across the way, smack dab on its painted target as he'd aimed for, falling practically on top of the first.

It's an impressive arc. You clap your hands together and cheer, though the rules of this game escape you. You think it's supposed to be darts without sharp points, but you're more concerned with the lines of Steve's bicep as he rests the bat on his shoulder, his triumphant sun-kissed smile.

"Did you see that one, baby?" Robin asks.

"He's so impressive, isn't he?" Eddie adds, grinning.

Steve throws them the bird, his cheeks pink.

"That's an example of what not to do in a formal setting," Nancy says, her skirt moving like water as she puts her face in her hand, her elbow on her knee.

"You're getting good at this tutoring stuff," Jonathan says.

Steve meanders your way to beg a consolation hug (he puts his arm across your shoulder, muttering about mean friends and their unjust jokes). "They're the worst," he mutters, his hair brushing your ear, goosebumps erupting down your arms.

"I think they're nice," you say.

He hums in your ear. "You would. Wretched wife."

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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rookthorne · 1 year

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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

You were the warmth and light to Bucky’s shadows and brooding nature — a match made in heaven, and it was a miracle that a certain someone realised as much.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✿ Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✿ 2.5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✿ Fluff, mention of alcohol

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✿ My very first grumpy x sunshine fic, and it was hella fun! a huge thank you to all those who listened to me deliberate what the hell to do with it! ✿ A huge thank you to @mxaether for the fact checking and guidance - you were a huge help!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ✿ Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✿ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate June-iverse 𝗖𝟯 — Tattoo AU — Masterlist

𝐈𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The anniversary of 107th Ink was always going to be special, and this one perhaps was one of the biggest years – seven whole years since both Bucky and Stevie had walked through those doors with a dream, a dream that had flourished and blown up with their combined talents and charisma.

In order to celebrate, 107th Ink had announced a surprise flash day. And, as anyone would have expected from the fastest growing tattoo parlour in the area, it was chaos – actually, chaotic was an understatement, and for this very reason, you had parked your car a block away from Bucky’s shop with a box of donuts in one hand and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other.

You would be a sight for sore, tired eyes, that was for sure.

Bucky’s Harley was parked on the verge, the shining red paint and reflective chrome shone in the light of the setting sun. The many rides you had taken with Bucky on that very bike came to the forefront of your mind, and you smiled fondly at the memories; the time he had taken you down the back roads for a picnic after you had finally convinced him to put his machine down, or that time that he took you down the highway, resting his hand on yours that had looped tightly around his middle.

You and Bucky had been friends for years – he was certainly by far the gruffest and honest to god most intimidating man you had ever met, but somehow, he softened around you. Ever since Natasha had introduced you to him, you had felt an instant connection to the infamous brooding vet, and it left the two of you on a path you had no idea how to navigate. It was becoming difficult to ignore the butterflies that crowded your entire being when he flashed you a rare smile, or called you his Sunshine.

But that was a thought for another day – Bucky needed his Jacks and Stevie would need his donuts, not to mention Nat and Peter squirrelling away what they could of either offering.

And, after your own intense and exhausting day with work and clients, you had to admit, it would be nice to see your friends.

The door to the shop swung open with a clink of the bell, and you took in the scene. Bucky’s interior design choices screamed Rock’n’Roll with guitars lining the walls, all in various states of artistic liberty of designs and signatures. Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me played quietly over the hustle and bustle, a constant background noise amongst the many conversations held between artists and clients you could only just hear. Soft lighting illuminated the entry and reception where black leather couches were placed cosily – no clients were lazing about so you suspected they were all in the booths. The shining tiled floor reflected the reds of the walls and the mahogany oak accents like it was freshly polished.

Bucky’s standards of professionalism and cleanliness were high, and hell hath no fury for anyone that compromised them.

“Hey, Sunshine!” A bright voice called from an open door – Peter’s booth, and you looked over to see the aforementioned excited apprentice poking his head out. “God, you’re a sight for sore eyes-” You stifled a laugh, smiling instead. “Bucky is just over there,” Peter said, gesturing towards a closed door. “He’ll be out soon, nervous client.”

“Thanks, Pete,” you said, and he grinned at you and the donuts in your hand before disappearing back into the booth.

As expected, time passed slowly and you watched while a couple of clients milled out of the booths – Stevie’s, Nat’s and Peter’s. You caught sight of Stevie and Nat occasionally, and they spared you an excited wave or smile when they could – their gazes drifting to the treats you had brought with you.

The sun had set by the time Bucky’s booth had any sign of movement. His door opened and a timid young woman appeared in the doorway – she was speaking over her shoulder and once she glanced towards the couches, you gave her a soft smile and she walked past you to Peter at the front desk to pay.

Peter greeted her happily and began the process of the transaction, but heavy boot falls in the booth made your gaze snap towards the source, smiling wide at finding Bucky leaning against the frame, arms crossed so his tattoos rippled and moved with the corded muscle. He was staring at you with a blank expression, null and void of any tells, though there was a glimmer of happiness in his eyes that filled your heart and fuelled the butterflies to a dull roar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you!” You rushed, getting to your feet just as the young woman left the shop. As soon as she was out the door, there was a collective exhale of breath in relief. “Tough day?”

“What gave it away, Sunny?” Steve groaned as he stood in the doorway of his own booth, rubbing his face and mussing his hair and neatly trimmed beard. “It seemed that flash day means all the tough clients come outta the woods at once.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nat piped up, stretching to the ceiling and cracking her back. The burgundy leather jacket she wore gleamed in the low light while it complemented her creeping neck tattoos. “I had all the sweet ones then.”

“Yeah, because you intimidate the shit out of ‘em, Nat,” Bucky said, a brow raised in challenge. Nat only shrugged, a coy grin on her blood red lips.

“Today was fun though,” Peter yawned, and you watched as Bucky and Steve rolled their eyes in unison.

“Trust the apprentice to be all rainbows and shit,” Bucky mumbled. “Let’s close up for the night. I wanna go home.”

Everyone left the reception in favour of returning to their booths, and you followed behind Bucky, bottle of Jacks in hand. The donuts lay on the table amongst the neatly stacked portfolios for later – that’s if Steve and Nat didn’t run off with them before you could walk out the door.

“How are you feeling, Buck?” You asked, watching as he flexed his left arm and clenched his hand in a fist before releasing it with a wince. “Are you alright?”

Bucky looked over at you and nodded once. “‘M fine, sweetheart,” he said softly while he cleaned up the tray of ink caps and the rest of his station. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m good,” you said, maybe a little too quick, because Bucky’s gaze snapped up and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I’m being honest-”

Slowly, Bucky stepped around from his cart and came to stand right in front of you, his gaze heavy with that critical eye and his habit for problem solving. “No, you’re not, Sunshine.”

Damn it, you cursed in your head, and it must have traitorously flickered across your expression because Bucky hesitated only slightly before his arms suddenly enveloped you and pulled you against his chest. The sudden movement forced a quiet, “oof!” from your lips before you could bite it back – though the feeling of him holding you, as rare as it was, was never unwelcome.

“I know you like hugs, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his voice just a low rumble in his chest. “Jus’ lemme hold you for a minute, alright?”

Your heart seized and tears burned in the corner of your eyes at his words. Bucky held you so tightly and you were forced to loop your arms around his middle while you rested your cheek on his shoulder – it was indescribable.

Touch was not something Bucky gave freely – sure, it was his job to touch and manipulate and move clients, but it never meant anything more than him just doing his job. He never initiated a hug to Nat, Steve, or even Peter, it was something entirely off the table for him, though here he was, pushing past what he would normally be comfortable with and initiating such a tender embrace to you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you mumbled. Bucky squeezed you tight for just a second in reply, and when he relaxed his hold, the vice in your chest had lessened significantly.

“Jus’ wanna take care of my girl, ‘s all,” Bucky said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear, but you stiffened.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky hastened, his voice suddenly sharp and he pulled away, leaving you standing by the chair, dumbfounded and in shock. “Forget I said anything, let’s get outta here, huh?”

“No, no wait,” you rushed forward, grabbing his arm while you felt your eyes shine with tears – from what: fear, shock, or happiness, you couldn’t tell. “What did you say?”

A long stretch of silence passed before Bucky met your pleading gaze, but he was frowning slightly, as if he was considering every outcome in the blink of an eye. It was unbearable, and you shook his arm slightly, ignoring the way the muscles didn’t budge under your grip.

“I said I wanted to take care of my girl.”

The tension cracked and split like a whip had cleaved through it, and a heavy breath left your lips. “Your girl?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding stiffly.

“Are you-” You tried, but stopped. The sudden dryness in your mouth made it difficult to form the words. “Are you saying… what I think you’re saying?”

Bucky held your stare. “Yes.”

“Oh, my god,” you rushed, and you slammed into his chest to wrap your arms around his middle again – this time he was the one that let out a surprised “oof!” before he wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Took you fuckin’ long enough!” Steve cried suddenly and you whirled around. Somehow, while engrossed in your panicked train of thought, and Bucky being stuck in his own version of panicking, Steve and Nat had quietly opened the door to eavesdrop. “Nat, you owe me fifty bucks.”

“Dammit,” Nat grumbled before her heels clicked on the floor, the sound muffling the further she walked away.

The fact that they had placed bets on this didn’t leave you feeling surprised in the slightest, if you were honest – Nat had known something was up, naturally, and she made it a point to stare expectantly whenever you would become flustered by literally anything Bucky did: paying special attention to you, calling you Sunshine, or how he was fiercely protective of you, all of which you found out when you went out to coffee with her. She had snorted and laughed at the obviously hilarious expression of shock upon finding any of that out – you had thought you were subtle, dammit.

Stevie, well, he was Bucky’s best friend – you can only hide so much from the person you were with most, if not all of the working day. It also didn’t help Stevie was a nosy sonofabitch on the best of days. “Can’t make a plan without all the variables, Sunny,” Stevie would say smugly whenever you questioned him, a proud, knowing smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You glanced up at Bucky to see him burning holes through the door to the back of his friends as they made a hasty retreat – there was no way he was clued in on that little game.

“Hey, guys, wait up!” Peter yelled as the bell sounded, followed by his rushed footsteps. “See you tomorrow, Boss!” Bucky didn’t reply as the door closed behind Peter and the shop was silent again – just the two of you.

The slight furrow in his brow and the pensive frown on his lips made your hands grow clammy with nervous sweat; you couldn’t tell what Bucky was thinking, and it was infuriating.

Minutes stretched by, or seconds, you couldn’t tell – you were trapped in his gaze, lost in the thoughts racing through your mind, did he truly mean what he said?

You startled slightly when Bucky’s hand suddenly cupped your cheek, not having seen him move his arm. “So,” he said slowly. The softening of his eyes made your heart flutter – this was your Bucky, a gentle, soft soul that looked out for you.

“Bucky?” You whispered. Bucky only hummed quietly, moving his hands to hold both of yours, the cold bite of his rings caused a shiver to crawl up your spine.

“What d’you say, Sunshine?” Bucky asked, still slow and thoughtful, like he was weighing every word. The tension grew to be unbearable and it was all you could do to keep your breathing even, you wished his intense gaze would waver, or he would look away – just for a damned second.

You licked your lips, shuffling your feet on the spot. “That depends on what you’re as-”

“Be my girl?”

Time stopped. Your heart stopped, ceasing its pounding rhythm for a millisecond before kick-starting thunderously. Sure, he had called you his girl more than once, but hearing him ask if you would be? You prayed to whoever would listen above that you would survive this, for you were floating on cloud nine and you did not want to come back down.

“I-I,” you stumbled, growing even more flustered at the glint in his eyes – you couldn’t tell what he was feeling but you felt pinned, in the best possible way. “Yeah, yeah I want to be your Sunshine, Buck-”

Your stomach swooped at the sudden and entirely unexpected feeling of his lips on yours, and his hands – god, his hands, one moved to hold the side of your throat, the other cupped your face. He set the pace easily and you eagerly followed, you had been craving this for so long that it was almost unbelievable.

To make doubly sure you weren’t dreaming, more than the desire to touch him, you ran your hands up his arms to rest them on his broad shoulders and you felt him smile into the kiss. “It’s real, sweetheart, ‘m here,” Bucky said against your lips, and you sighed happily.

The warm smile Bucky gave you as he pulled away made you miss his touch, even though he had only taken a single step away. “I’ll finish cleanin’ up and then we can get outta here, we have a lot to celebrate, Sunshine, don’t we?”

The butterflies in your stomach became a frenzy at his words, and you nodded shyly. “They’re going to lose their minds, aren’t they?” You mused, sitting on the rolling stool while you waited for him to finish up. “Nat and the guys, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, zipping up his case. “Yeah, they will, the bastards. Bettin’ on their fuckin’ boss, I oughta fire all of ‘em.” You laughed heartily and Bucky smirked.

Once Bucky’s station had been tidied and cleaned for the next day, he reached a hand out and you accepted it happily. “Let’s get outta here, I gotta treat my girl to a nice night, huh?”

“Only if we take your bike,” you said, squeezing Bucky’s hand and he looked over at you curiously. “I want to fly.”

Bucky only chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t have to tell me twice, sweetheart.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #Connect4AU #JAS #rookthorne's works

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acowardinmordor · 7 months

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You Left Me - You Miss Me - 4

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Hi, time for more, arguably making things better, but also arguably making things much worse.

----

There was a diner a block and a half from their apartment. Steve found it when the sky opened up during his jog one morning. Snow, he could have handled, he was dressed for it. Slushy sleet mixed with hail was another matter. He ducked inside to hide until it passed, chatted with the owner for a bit, and brought Robin with him the next day because they had an amazing spread of waffle toppings, including crumbled bacon, and Steve knew she’d go crazy about it.

He was correct, and it was their go to spot, not just for breakfast.

At the end of January, Rebecca sat down to join them, and handed Steve an application.

Steve was already working at a JC Penny in the stock room, and picked up a few hours at a roller rink filling in when someone called out. They had enough money to live. Not decadently, but they could cover all their bills, and keep gas in the car, and buy supplies for Robin’s classes.

“Uh, Rebecca, I’m- thank you? But. My memory sucks, and my hearing isn’t great, and if someone starts getting rude, I’m going to get rude back to them, and --”

“This is a diner, hun,” she stopped him, “You write the orders down, you can always tell someone to say it again, and the fact you can shut down anyone that gives you lip is why I think you’ll be good at it. Like I said, it’s a diner. We don’t have to be all sunshine and daisies here.”

“I’m working at another--”

“Over at the mall and the rink, I know. And I know you’re free Monday through Wednesday mornings. And,” she stressed, “staff gets free meals and first dibs on the day olds.”

“Dingus!" Robin gasped and grabbed his arm. "Do it, do it. Stevie. Please, oh my god, please, you have to take it. You can bring me the brioche buns. And that apple butter. And that thing with the nuts! Steeevveee, don’t you love your soulmate? Please? I cou--”

So Steve took the job, and worked a few mornings a week. By the third week of February, he stopped feeling like he was going to fuck up any second. He understood why Rebecca liked his ability to get bitchy in the face of difficult customers, and he and Robin had cupboards well stocked with random take homes.

He liked it. Starting at five in the morning took some getting used to, but he was done by one, and traded off with a middle aged mom named Susan after the lunch rush settled down. Was it a ton of money? No. But he got more tips than he expected to, and the brioche really was delicious.

The last week of February, he was working alone on a Tuesday, at the start of the lunch rush, expecting Susan to arrive soon, and an easy day.

“Be with you in a minute,” he called to whoever just came inside, bussing half a dozen empty plates from table two after dropping off more creamer at table four. He looped back, ducking behind the counter to put the plates on the pass through for Nick to grab.

He dropped the entire stack before he got there.

His hands clenched down, his muscles locked, and even though it should have made him hold harder, everything slipped, and either shattered on the tiles or banged into his feet.

Jim Hopper winced from his seat at the counter. “Sorry, kid.”

The couple of other diners glanced up to check on him, and John looked around the window from the kitchen. Steve didn’t move. Couldn't. Could barely breathe.

“Is it back?”

“No.”

His exhale shook out of him before he shoved down the panic.

“Then whatever this is can wait.”

“I’m just here to talk.”

“And I said it can wait.”

He swept up the broken dishes, shrugged off John’s silent offer to throw Hopper out, and reminded himself there was no reason to think that the Upside Down was back. That meant this was going to be more awkward and less dangerous, and he was going to hate it, but it was still the better version of the day.

“What’ll you have?”

“Kid, I’m here to talk cause I didn’t think you’d want me at your place.”

“And I’m at work, and this is a diner, so what’ll you have?”

“Steve--”

“I’ll bring you coffee. I’m not talking about this while I’m working.”

“Coffee’s good. When are you off?”

Steve gave his bitchiest smile, didn’t answer, and went to seat the couple that just walked in.

The lunch rush was a mercy. Susan handled Hopper, and gave him the iciest service anyone had ever gotten under that roof. Hopper took it gracefully, but he didn’t shift, or push, or give any indication that he wasn’t willing to sit there til midnight if he had to.

Normally, Steve would get some lunch to go and head home. If the weather was bad, he ate at the booth in the corner to wait it out. With the way his stomach was twisting, unable to separate Hopper from what his arrival could mean, he wasn’t going to keep food down. He filled a glass of water, then silently gestured Hop to follow.

“Good to see you, Steve,” he said when they sat. “You and Robin doing okay up here?”

“We’re fine. Why are you here? If it isn’t something to do with, you know, then why are you here?”

“Maybe I just came up to check on you.”

“Did you?” Steve snorted into his drink when that question made Hopper’s face twist up. “So what is this?”

“I am here to check on you. There’s something else, but I came here because I’m checking on you. Me and you weren’t all that close, but you had Mrs Buckley give me your info so I’d know where you were.”

“Yeah, in case of an emergency. And you said there wasn’t any emergency. Plus, you had my phone number, so you could have called, which would be way less weird than showing up while I’m at work, you know?”

Hopper scratched at his cheek. “It’s not an emergency compared to all the reasons you wanted me to be able to find you, but if you ask those kids, this may as well be the end of the world again.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, well. Henderson is gonna get himself arrested if he keeps trying to steal the mail and find something addressed to you. Max keeps pushing El to try and find you. The only reason they haven’t gone completely crazy is because of the Buckleys telling them that you’re fine. She gave me your address and number, and she talked for a little bit about the kids.”

Steve smiled at that. Mrs Buckley had never talked a ‘little bit’ about anything in her life. Either she was holding the line on being rude to anyone that might bother them, or Hop was pretending he hadn’t listened to a solid hour of rambling.

“Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Want to ask if I can -- shit, I don’t know. I can route mail back and forth so they never have your address or something. I’d rather give them your info so I don’t have to be involved, but I already know you won’t agree to that.”

Steve ignored the pause that Hopper left there. Conversation and good manners said he should concede to something so he wouldn’t inconvenience the man too much. The last month with Robin supporting his choice kept his mouth shut. She’d be pissed at him if he folded, and worse, she’d help him get through all the pain it caused if he did talk to the kids again. Then he’d feel guilty and sad.

“Alright,” Hopper grumbled, “Didn’t think you would, but you know how those kids can be. Can’t fault me for trying.”

“So, we’re done? You sat here all this time just to talk for three minutes?”

“Almost.”

“So….” At least Steve could enjoy the fact that neither of them were enjoying this. Hopper winced a bit before he spoke.

“I didn’t tell any of the kids I was coming up to see you. None of them knew, and none of them are gonna know. Didn’t even tell Joyce why, just that I was driving up to Indy. Already had a plan in case they tried to tail me up here. So, had a surprise this morning when I got to my truck. it might change your answer.”

“Didn’t know you were so dramatic about stuff.”

“Side effect of two hours with that surprise, I guess. Eddie Munson came up with me.”

Any of the kids would have hurt.

Henderson might have made him cry.

Eddie Munson? That didn’t make sense.

They weren’t friends, never had been. The Upside Down meant they were connected, but they were never more than acquaintances, even when Steve was desperately trying to keep them all close. Sure, he’d taken over as the chauffeur for the kids, and everyone’s new best friend, but that didn’t explain why he’d bother to come up to talk to Steve.

“What the hell? Why?”

“He asked.”

“And you said yes.”

“He said please.”

That was not the whole story. There was something getting skipped over, left out. Hopper tolerated Munson, but he wouldn’t do him a favor if there wasn’t some kind of monster involved.

“Wait, you’ve been here for two hours.”

“Yep.”

“Did you just leave him in your truck this whole time? That front came through overnight. The high is thirty four today.”

“Yeah, I did,” Hopper said flatly. “He told me he wanted to come up so he could talk to you. Told me a little bit about why. And I said yes and I let him come, but I told him that I was gonna talk to you first. If you said no, he was gonna stay in that seat clear back to Hawkins, and keep his mouth shut about this whole thing.”

“How’d he know what you were doing?”

“No clue.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“Not gonna say it for him.” Hopper shifted towards the edge of the booth. “So, want me to tell him to buckle back up, or tell him to get his ass in here?”

A quick consult with the imaginary Robin in his head left him just as confused, but curious as hell. He agreed, and fidgeted with a napkin, struggling to think of any reason why Eddie Munson would want to talk to him, or what the hell he said that the kids hadn’t that convinced Hopper to drive him up.

Stuck in his head, Steve jumped when a mess of a man in denim and leather slid shivering into the seat opposite. The scars on his face and hands were less vivid than they were last time they saw each other, but they still worked as a thermometer. Steve's did the same.

“Why the hell were you sitting in the cold, man?”

Eddie blinked, and froze where he was rubbing his hands together trying to get feeling back. “Hopper took the keys.”

Steve’s turn to blink. This was the guy taking care of his kids.

“Susan?” He called, gesturing for two when she lifted the coffee carafe in a question.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Dude, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here or why you care or what the hell is happening, but I’m not gonna let you sit there shaking cause you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know what gloves are.”

Steve watched packet after packet of sugar pour into Eddie’s, while he stirred a splash of half and half into his own cup. Eddie took a gulp, hissed at the heat, and clutched at the mug, eyes glued to the nicked surface of the table.

“I’m sorry.”

“For rotting your teeth out? That’s your choice, Munson.”

“No,” Eddie insisted, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry about the kids.”

Steve took a breath, took a sip, took another breath. “Look, man, that’s not on you. You play D&D with them, and you like all their nerdy shit. I was -- They grew up. We got through everything, all of that, we won, and they grew up. It’s not your fault that they like you more than they liked me. So, thanks, I guess, but--”

“Steve. No. They didn’t. They -- those kids did not suddenly grow up and decide they didn’t like you anymore. You are their favorite person anywhere, ever, you will be for the rest of eternity, and they don’t understand why no one will tell them how to reach you. They put on a really good show about being mad about it, but, come on, you know what they’re like. They want to apologize cause they know they hurt you, and they want to fix it, and just, you gotta let them try, Steve. You gotta let them talk to you. They miss you so fucking much.”

“Look, I know how they get, and I know how dramatic they are, but it’s still not your fault--”

“It is. Steve. It is my fault. That’s - That’s why you have to talk to them. Cause they didn’t grow up and get over you or decide they didn’t care about you. Those kids are crazy about you, and they never stopped, and they’re hurt right now cause they don’t understand why you left them, and you gotta fix it with them, please.”

Something pinged weird in his ear when he heard the way Munson’s voice cracked. Not just worry, not just helping, not just caring about the kids. Guilt. He was taking the blame for it, even though that didn’t make any sense. The kids were - brats, gremlins, terrors, the most stubborn people he’d ever met, and he knew Nancy Wheeler. If they wanted to be around him, they would be around him.

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, or anyone’s fault. It hurt like hell, and Steve wished it wasn’t true, but this was just life. Kids grew up, their interests moved. Friendships changed and ended.

But that crack of guilt…

“How is it your fault and not theirs that they stopped wanting to ever see me?”

Eddie’s hands stopped shaking from the cold before he got the coffee.

His hands were shaking again.

Trembled in the time between Steve asking, and Eddie managing to respond.

“I, uh, I asked them to.”

----

Don't be too mad at him yet. He has a lot more to say.

Part Five >>>

#You Left Me - You Miss Me #my writing #steddie eventually #focus on the eventually today

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reputationmunson · 11 months

Text

Incandescent Glow | s.h. x fem!reader

summary: late night swimming with your boyfriend, steve

content: SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral (fem rec), mentions of riding and spooning position, you and steve being so in love it hurts, fluff, pet names, no use of y/n, food mentions

word count: 2.5k

a/n: thank you so much @lilacletter for reading this and for your kind words. ily <3

divider credit

Anxiety courses through your veins when your phone rings at nearly midnight.

Who would be calling this late if it wasn’t some sort of emergency?

You quickly make your way to the telephone and pick it up. “Hello?” you answer, voice filled with concern.

“Hi, pretty girl” You let out a sigh of relief when you hear your boyfriend's voice. “Hi, Stevie. Is everything okay?”

“Nope. Far from okay” he replies and your stomach drops. “w-what’s wrong?” you stammer.

“I miss my girl.” he says, sighing dramatically and making you chuckle. “I thought you were hurt, dummy!” you lightly scold.

“I am hurt. Even more now that you didn’t say you miss me too” he whines. “I haven’t seen you all week, you know I miss you, too. A lot.” you reply honestly.

A week might not seem like a long time to most, but for you and Steve, it felt like a lifetime. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you started dating almost three months ago.

You weren’t ashamed of how much the two of you cling to one another, not one bit. You loved how he always had his hand on your thigh, his arm around your waist, or even just his pinkie looped with yours. Showing you affection was like second nature to Steve. Every touch or glances at each other in a crowded room was a reminder of how much you loved each other, even if you haven’t officially said those three words yet.

His friends always say he’s “disgustingly obsessed with you” and he always tells them “you would be too if you had a girl like her”. Though his friends like to make fun of how soft he is for you, they love how happy you make him. They especially love that they don’t have to listen to anymore stories of failed dates with girls that left him feeling hopeless.

“Can you come over?” He asks and fiddles with the phone cord while waiting for your response. “What’s in it for me?” you joke. “Unlimited kisses, obviously, and I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.” he promises.

“You’ll make your special pancakes?” you ask.“I’ll make my special pancakes.” he affirms.

Steve’s ‘special’ pancakes were just normal pancakes. Sometimes he would add blueberries or chocolate chips, but that isn’t what made them special. What made them special is how domestic it felt when you made them together or when he surprises you with breakfast in bed. Anything Steve does is special, even if it’s something as simple as pancakes.

“You’re very convincing, Harrington.” you say in a sing-song voice.“Does that mean you’re convinced?” you can practically hear him grin.

“I would’ve said yes even without the pancakes.” you tell him and he chuckles. “I know. I just like to spoil you. Do you want me to pick you up?” he offers. “It’s alright, I’ll drive. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Bring a swimsuit.” he tells you. “Why?” you question. “I wanna go for a late night swim with my girl. If you want to”

“Yeah, that sounds fun! I’ll be there soon”

“I’ll be counting down the minutes.”

“You’re so cheesy.” you giggle. “Bye, Stevie”

“Bye, honey”

Steve opens the front door before you even have a chance to knock. He wastes no time pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you, baby” he lets out a sigh of relief at the feeling of finally having you in his arms. “Missed you, too.” you respond, burying your face in his shirt and inhaling the scent of his cologne.

Steve can’t believe how happy he feels right now to have you with him. He’s almost embarrassed at how tightly he’s holding you, scared that if he lets up even a little you’ll disappear.

“C’mon, let’s go inside” he grabs your hand, not letting go until you reach his bedroom. “So, I’ll, uh, let you get changed. If you still wanna go for a swim” he nervously scratches the back of his neck and you can’t help but grin about the fact he gets nervous around you.

“Of course I do. What else is the point of having a boyfriend with a pool?” your arms wrap around his neck and his hands fall to your waist. “So, that’s all I’m good for then, hm?”

“That, and all the free movies from family video.” you kid and he playfully rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I’m gonna get changed in the bathroom, then I’ll meet you out by the pool, kay?” he says and pecks your lips before exiting his bedroom.

Before changing, you take a moment to look around Steve’s room. You’d been in here many times, but usually only to sleep or steal borrow one of his shirts, and you’ve always been too tired to observe his bedroom.

The first thing you take notice of is the nightstand next to his side of the bed. His glasses that he refuses to wear in public lay on the stand out of their case, which you will gently remind him to put in the case when he isn’t wearing them.

“Baby, you gotta keep them in the case or they might break” you’d tell him, to which he’d reply “like that would be the worst thing in the world.” and honestly, it might just be the worst thing in the world. Not only does he need them, despite his protests, but he looks incredibly handsome in them. You also find it sweet that he’s comfortable enough to wear them around you.

Your heart grows about three sizes when you see the picture in the frame that he keeps next to his bed. The picture is the two of you at Robin’s birthday party. You’re both wearing goofy party hats and Steve’s cheeks are flushed due to the drinks he had that made him unbelievably lovey dovey (not that you’re complaining). You’re both smiling so big your cheeks hurt just from looking at it.

That was the night Steve asked you to officially be his girlfriend. You said yes, but kindly asked him if he’d ask again when he was sober. It was the first thing he did when he woke up the next morning.

In the bottom corner of the frame, there’s a polaroid of you he took a couple of weeks ago. He called you late, much like he did tonight, and asked if you wanted to go on a little adventure. You said yes without hesitation even though he gave you no context.

He took you to lovers lake, of course. You both jumped in the lake and quickly got out when you felt the freezing water, giggling all the way to shore. You laid on the ground while your clothes dried and looked at the stars. Steve insisted on taking a picture of you, saying he never wanted to forget how pretty you looked under the stars.

Setting down the picture frame, you realize you should probably change before Steve comes back and finds you snooping through his room. Not that he would mind.

You quickly change into a simple one piece that’s the color Steve loves you in and throw one of his shirts over the suit before heading downstairs.

Steve’s already in the pool once you get outside. He’s floating on his back, but he lifts his head once he hears you walking towards the pool.

“Hi, handsome. Don’t you look relaxed” you observe and sit on the edge of the pool. “Figured I’d get comfy since you were taking too long” he teases, swimming over to you and standing between your legs. “m’sorry. got distracted.”

You run your fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back so it’s out of his eyes. “You look so pretty right now” you say, still running your fingers through his hair. “Do you have a crush on me?” he dramatically gasps, causing you to laugh. “Maybe I do” you move your hand to cup his cheek and wipe off water droplets with your water droplets.

“Are you gonna join me or sit there and look pretty? I’m fine with either one” he says before pressing a kiss to your palm. “I’ll join you if we play marco polo” you jokingly bargain. “Only if I get to be polo” he counters. “You’re so on. Prepare to lose, Harrington.” you say before standing up to remove your t-shirt.

Steve lets out a whistle once your shirt is off and thrown onto a lounger. “You trying to kill me, honey?”

“What? This is, like, the most conservative bathing suit ever.” you chuckle. “You’d make a garbage bag look sexy, babe.”

“Whatever you say, loverboy.” you respond, sitting back on the edge of the pool and sliding into the water.

Once you’re within reach, Steve grabs your arm and pulls you close to him so that your chests are pressed up against each other. His arms wrap around your waist and your wrap around his shoulders, your hands linked together behind his neck.

His nose gently nudges yours before he finally kisses you over and over. The loving and soft brush of his lips over yours fills your stomach with butterflies. One of his hands slowly travels down until he reaches your butt, giving it a light squeeze and a small gasp escapes your lips.

“I thought” kiss “we were gonna” kiss “play” kiss “marco polo” you say in between kisses. Steve chuckles and slightly pulls back. “We can if you really want to” he responds.

“No” is all you say before capturing him in a breathtaking kiss. Your legs wrap around his waist and his hands grasp the underneath of your thighs. His tongue glides into your mouth causing you to moan.

“Fuck, baby” Steve sighs into your mouth. “I wanna taste you” he confesses and you whimper. “yeah? you like the thought of me eating your pussy, sweet girl?”

“yes” you moan, absentmindedly grinding against Steves’ bulge, causing him to groan.

Steve carries you all the way to the side of the pull, encouraging you to sit on the side and you oblige quickly.

Steve uses his large hands to part your thighs and a smirk appears on his face once your legs are spread. “You’d do anything I told you to, wouldn’t you?” he looks up at you, still grinning like a devil. “uh-huh” you nod swiftly.

Steve presses a kiss to the side of each of your knees. He begins kissing up the inside of your thighs, occasionally nipping and sucking at the skin. You let out a shaky sigh in anticipation and your fingers thread through his hair, giving him a slight tug.

Once he’s reached the top of your thigh, he presses a kiss to your clothed core. “Steve, please” you plead and he doesn’t think he can make you wait a second longer.

He moves the part of the bathing suit covering your core to the side and licks a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. Your hand that isn’t in his hair grips the edge of the pool to keep you steady when his lips wrap around your clit and he starts to gently suck. “Fuck, Stevie” you moan just loud enough for him to hear, not wanting to alert any neighbours what you’re up to.

His hands hook onto your thighs with a harsh grip and you hope it leaves a mark.

His tongue toys with your clit at a slow, excruciating pace. He loves to tease you, loves to hear you beg for him. He knows it’s a little mean, but you just sound so pretty when you’re begging.

“Faster, please” you whine and that’s all he needed to hear.

Steve doesn’t hold back, sucking and licking your clit like a man starved. Steve’s tongue dips into your entrance and his nose nudges your bud. You throw your head back as you feel your orgasm approaching. You start to grind your pussy on his face, chasing that high you need so badly.

“I’m so close, baby” you groan in pleasure. Steve would know you’re close even if you didn’t tell him. Your breaths have shortened, the grind of your hips has gotten faster, and you have a death grip on his hair.

He doesn’t change his pace or do anything different because he knows you’re about to cum and he’s not going to do anything that would mess up hearing you scream his name as you cum for him.

“Steve, yes!” you scream, neighbours be damned. “I-I’m gonna- fuck- gonna-” you stammer, unable to speak as your orgasm washes over you. The pace of your hips still and Steve works you through your high, pulling away once he knows you’re satisfied.

You collapse onto your back as you catch your breath. Steve hops out of the pool and sits next to you, taking in how beautifully blissed out you look.

He can’t seem to think straight when you turn your head and look at him, giving a loopy smile. Love has been something that’s scared him since he was a teenager. Well, not exactly love, but the vulnerability that comes with being in love. When it comes to you, he’s never felt scared. He’s not afraid to give you his heart or show you sides of him that no one has ever seen, good or bad. Steve feels something with you he was sure only existed in movies and he can’t go another second without telling you.

“Hey” Steve whispers. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah. anything” you say and sit up, scooting closer to him. You grab his hand and give it a loving squeeze and he squeezes back.

“I love you. So much. Almost too much. It’s kinda crazy, actually. Like, I’m always thinking about you and wanna be with you all the time. I hope that doesn’t freak you out or anything, but, yeah, I just really fucking love you.”

“Steve…” you whisper, holding back happy tears “I really fucking love you too”

“Yeah?” he asks like it’s too good to be true. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite person.” you say and he smiles so big his nose scrunches. “You’re my favorite person too. Just don’t tell Robin or she’ll kill me”

“Deal. Now, should we go up to your room so I can show you how much I love you?”

Steve’s never moved faster in his life, practically sprinting inside while dragging you with him.

You rode him for as long as you could until you had no strength left in your legs. After that, you both laid on your sides as Steve fucked you from behind, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, not stopping until sunlight began to stream through the bedroom window.

You eventually fell asleep with your limbs intertwined with his, needing every inch of your body touching his.

Even though he was exhausted from barely sleeping, he still kept his promise to make you pancakes with an extra side of kisses when you woke up. It’s easily the best meal you’ve ever had.

thank you for reading :)

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington 18+#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington

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nburkhardt · 3 months

Note

perhaps five for the cuddling prompts if you haven’t done it already? It just seems like something that they would say 🩵

5 - “I’m sorry, I’m probably suffocating you.” “No, I don’t mind. If I do happen to suffocate, just know I died happy.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Steve will admit he’s clingy. Very clingy actually. Like to the point where a nasty voice in the back of his head -that sounds a little like his dad- will curse him and call him names about it whenever he throws his presence around anyone.

Robin told him once that it’s probably because his parents didn’t give him a lot of affection, that he craves touch. It’s why she drapes over him whenever they’re hanging out, or when she decides to link arms whenever they’re walking. He loves her for it, especially loves how she said it’s not a bad thing to be this way.

That he’s allowed to be clingy, to give affection.

Nearly all of his past relationships didn’t like it, thought it was too much. Nancy liked it for the first few months and somewhere along the way, told him to pull it back a little. Maybe that’s when he should’ve realized she didn’t feel the same way.

Which is why he decided to back down with his clingy tendencies around Eddie. Doesn’t want to push him away or give him the chance to hurt him. Because if Eddie learns how much he can be or that he has feelings, it could very easily change. He could lose this.

He thinks that he’s successful with pulling away, until Eddie corners him during movie night at the trailer.

Hopping up, he wiggles his empty can to wordlessly tell Eddie about grabbing a new one. It’s a quick few minutes and when he sits back down, Eddie is pausing the movie.

“Uh, what?” Steve looks at him, “Eds?”

Eddie sat the remote down and turned fully towards him. Determination on his face, arms now crossed and it’s leaving Steve confused. They were fine just a second ago.

“Are you upset with me?” Eddie asks, and it really throws Steve for a loop, “Stevie, you’re not where you’re supposed to be”

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Steve opens his mouth a few times before closing it and crossing his own arms, “Eddie, what? That, what are you talking about?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, uncrossing his arms to throw them up and grip at the air before dropping them to Steve’s leg. It makes him pull it away and Eddie lets out a hum, “That! You’re pulling away from me, I thought you liked touch? It’s movie night and you’re sitting so far away from me, I miss my space heater. Miss my sunshine”

It makes him tense up, eyes widen and his heart to go in overdrive. A million thoughts race and he can’t- there’s, “Ed- what, um. Are you, are you saying that, you like how clingy I am?” He cringes as he speaks.

“Stevie, Steve, Honeylove, I will always love how clingy you are.” Eddie smiles and slowly reaches towards him before lightly touching Steve’s arm and Steve looks towards it before meeting Eddie’s eyes, finding unsaid question; can I touch?

All he can do is nod and watch as Eddie smiles and pulls him hard enough to make him fall directly on top of him.

Being this close, Steve can feel how fast Eddie’s heart is beating. Feels his own heartbeat beats along just as fast, it makes his eyes widen as he looks at Eddie’s face.

“Teddy?”

Eddie hums and wraps his arms around him, “hm?”

“What are you saying?”

Eddie squeezes him, “Want ya clingy, want you.”

Steve freezes and it seems like forever as he meets Eddie’s eye. Finding a fond expression, “I’ve wanted to ask for a while, ya know? Thought I had time to figure out the best way but someone,” he presses a finger to Steve’s back, “decided to pull away recently and I’ve decided that’s not happening, that I need my cuddly sunshine baby.”

It brings tears up and giggles bubble up, as he shifts to hide his face. Squeezing him and presses him more into the couch, “sorry, Teddy. Probably suffocating you”

Eddie clicks his tongue, “Nah, darling. I don’t mind, If I do happen to suffocate, just know I died happy. Because, I really love you.”

Steve grins, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s shoulder before shifting to look down at him, “I really love you too, you sap”

Can I just say I really don’t think it makes perfect sense? Maybe it does and it’s just me, my edible hit me half way into this. I think I rambled a bit, lost the plot a bit.

Hope you still like it tho!!!!!

Cuddling prompts

#steddie #steve x eddie #nburkhardt writes #finntheehumaneater #what a weird get together moment tbh #idk it just kinda wrote itself

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shares-a-vest · 1 year

Text

Everybody knows Eddie has a way with nicknames. Everyone gets a pet name from Eddie to the point he basically never says anyone's real name.

And Steve gets an array of them. More than anyone else. Sweetheart. Sugarplum. Stevie. Multiple pet names all strung together in quick succession. Very rarely he's Harrington. That one is typically reserved for when Eddie is being a total bitch and they are fighting. King Steve, of course. He still doesn't love it, but at least now it is said with affection instead of sarcasm and contempt.

Meanwhile, Steve's over here simply calling his boyfriend Eds. Okay, maybe he said 'babe' one time in the presence of Lucas, Mike and Dustin and he's never heard the end of it.

It's kinda lame and he rather die than explain it to anyone (or have anyone else hear it), but Steve sees Eddie as his Prince. It's a pet name Eddie hasn't used, which is surprising considering there is a side DND character who is a Prince that bares embarrassingly detailed physical similarities to Steve.

Eddie is the Prince who came and swept him off his feet when he was at his loneliest.

Again, kinda lame. And pathetic.

Unfortunately, Steve blurts out said name in the least romantic setting possible: the back storeroom of Family Video.

They're in the back looking for the copy of Top Gun Steve had stashed away for them to take home. The waitlist was a month long and Keith enforced a strict 'no employees on the waitlist' policy, even though he definitely took a copy for himself.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, staring at the VHS cover of Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis.

Steve hands it over. "I reserved it under the fake account Rob and I have."

It was basically his only option considering Keith's flimsy rule and Eddie being banned from the store a few years back. Thank God they didn't have security cameras or else Steve would have been fired a hundred times over by now.

"Whoa," Eddie says with the wide-eyed wonder of a kid, holding the VHS in his hands like it is the most precious and delicate thing in the world.

"Anything for my Prince," Steve coos, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

He pulls back, staring. Oh god. He really just said that out loud.

Eddie blinks, clearly taking a moment to compute (or willing to tear his eyes away from ogling the back cover image of Val Kilmer). He quirks a brow, turning to look at Steve, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and accentuated by the scar that runs along the left side of his jaw.

"So that makes you the damsel in distress?" he says more than asks, glee in his eyes.

Shit, Steve really hadn't thought of it that way. Trust him to come up with a pet name that immediately made him vulnerable to teasing.

Before he can think of what to say, Eddie is scooping him up bridal-style. He promptly loops his arms around Eddie's neck when he feels his legs teetering on the spot at the cramped and awkward angle, wedged between Keith's desk and a shelving unit.

"Don't worry, Princess!" Eddie declares in dramatic fashion. "The Prince is here to save you from your dungeon and that wretched oaf."

He laughs hysterically as he sways Steve about.

"Stop!" Steve laughs, kicking and sending a stack of VHSs toppling to the ground.

"I shan't!" Eddie yells, his voice echoing through the small space. "Not until I have you in the safety of my bed chambers!"

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" Steve giggles as Eddie swings him around, sending more tapes flying.

#i'm baaack with my silly steddie nonsense #it's been a time this past week fam so i've just been miserably lurking/reblogging the first thing on my dash #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #lilys ficlets #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #family video 📼

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augustjustice · 1 year

Text

When Steve’s parents finally come back to Hawkins several months after the end of the end, they cut Steve off fairly quickly.

There have been rumors, you see, from the few of their friends still left in Hawkins. About the company Steve keeps, galivanting all over town with that Satan-worshipping murderer Munson. And when they finally arrive back at their large, cold house and Munson’s the one who answers the door, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers and one of Steve’s old basketball t-shirts? Well, what their son has really been up to becomes all too clear to them, and, careful not to make a scene that the neighbors will hear, they find Steve and tell him that he’s out in no uncertain terms.

Not wanting either of them to get caught in the cross-fires of his dad’s anger, Steve grabs as many of his belongings as he can and goes without much of a fight, at Eddie’s insistence following his van in the Beemer all the way back to the Munson trailer.

Steve moves in with Eddie and Wayne. It isn’t even really a conversation; Eddie just takes it as a given fact, and Steve feels compelled to argue, but every time he starts Eddie cuts him off with a reminder that they’ve practically been living together anyway, shuffling back and forth between the trailer and Steve’s big empty house. “What, big boy, you gonna rebuff my advances now?” Eddie asks, teasing but laying on just a subtle enough guilt trip he knows Steve won’t be able to say no. He’s a pushover that way, always caves to the people he cares about. Eddie can’t help but love that about him.

They don’t leave Hawkins. It’s hell, sometimes, what with Eddie’s reputation, and the whisperings now that Steve no longer lives in the big Harrington house. But they saved this town from hell itself, and that makes them both develop a certain stubbornness about it. Plus, the kids are still in school, and there’s an unspoken certainty that Steve won’t leave until they do, even with the threat over and the Upside Down gone.

But the general atmosphere makes finding gainful employment hard. Eddie still has a few connections at the shop in town, Thacher Tire, with the folks who weren’t susceptible to the things other people said about Eddie to start with. They recommend him to the guys at a garage a few towns over about thirty minutes away. Not completely outside the scope of rural Indiana gossip, but distant enough most people don’t recognize Eddie right away, don’t put the pieces together between his name and the boy who was plastered all over the six o’clock news.

Steve, without making any mention of it, had quietly applied to Indiana Tech, certain he wouldn’t get in.

By some miracle, he’s almost certain, he does, enrolled with a declared major in elementary education. Steve hasn’t quite settled on what path he wants to take, mulling over teaching as well as guidance counseling, but it’s a start. It’s something. He transfers his home campus to the same one where Eddie’s new shop is and quits his job at Family Video, working there agonizing with Robin off at college.

Eddie picks him up off the ground and spins him around when he tells him, despite Steve’s laughing protests.

“I knew you could do it!” Eddie crows, triumphant.

“You did not, you didn’t even know I applied,” Steve argues, still laughing.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you, Stevie? I’m secretly a telepath,” Eddie taps the side of his head, grin wide and mischievous. “Can’t keep secrets out of this steel trap, I know everything.”

It’s Steve’s turn to tackle him in a playful hug, wrestling a minute before he pulls out his “winning move”: tugging Eddie by his belt loops into a kiss.

“It’s not even like it’s that big a deal,” Steve says once they’ve parted, shrugging. “Since it’s only part-time for now.”

He leaves the reasons why unsaid, but Eddie hears them loud and clear, anyway.

“Me and Wayne will chip in,” Eddie assures him.

“You don’t--that’s not--” Steve starts to argue, cut off when Eddie presses a finger against his lips.

“Can’t get rid of us now, Stevie boy. You’re family, now. Which means we’re in this together, right? Isn’t that what you always tell me?”

Steve huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I really hate it when you use my own arguments against me, Eds.”

Eddie grins, all-teeth. “I know.”

Steve opens his mouth again, and Eddie can sense the lingering guilt and shame in the line of his shoulders, the way he hunches in on himself as he no doubt to mounts another argument, trying to discourage Eddie further. That won’t do.

“Now you know how it felt,” Eddie cuts in gently, “when you used to offer to pay for shit all the time.”

“That was different,” Steve tries to insist.

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him in challenge. “Different how?”

Without missing a beat, Steve replies, a bit of a grin starting to curl at the corners of his mouth, “Because, technically, I was stealing that money from my dad.”

Eddie can’t help but let out a bark of helpless laughter, any tension breaking.

So Steve accepts the “this is what we’re here for” argument, especially once Eddie makes clear Wayne won’t have it any other way, but he can’t quite convince Steve to bump up his status to full-time, not yet. Steve won’t let the Munsons pay his full way, is insistent he nail down a job, too, so they compromise with what they’ve got.

Steve looks for a job in downtown, not far from the school and Eddie’s work. There’s a beauty salon on one corner hiring and Steve figures what the hell? He hasn’t gone to cosmetology school, but he knows hair, and he’s gotten decent at doing Robin, Max, and El’s nails at sleepovers. Plus, he’s willing to learn, and that has to count for something.

His niche hair care product knowledge is enough to get him the job on the spot with the promise that he can apprentice a bit, learning as he goes.

Though it’s only part-time, the job turns out to be a perfect fit. Not only has he got the skills, but he’s friendly with a good personality and doesn’t mind indulging in a little small town gossip when it isn’t about him and his boyfriend. The clients quickly grow to love him, many starting to ask for him by name.

Steve and Eddie commute together, trading off who drives and saving on the gas money. The drive isn’t so far that they can’t drop Dustin and Max off at school on their way to the garage and campus respectively. (”At least until they get their licenses,” Eddie teases. “God, don’t remind me.” The mournful way Steve buries his face in his hands makes Eddie cackle.)

Their schedules keep things pretty hectic. They grab food together at the diner on main street during Steve’s free period and Eddie’s lunch hour. On the days Steve has night classes, Eddie hangs around the college library, using his boyfriend’s student ID to check out a few thick fantasy novels to keep him busy. The ladies at the salon all know Eddie by name from the times he’s been the one driving and picked Steve up, asking after Wayne when he sticks around to chat for a few minutes while Steve finishes up. When Steve has day classes and is free by early afternoon, he does his homework on the old leather couch in the garage’s lobby while he waits for Eddie to get off work. Sometimes Eddie finds him dozing off on the sofa. Sometimes Steve finds Eddie doing the same at a library table.

For the sake of safety, they’re discreet enough in public most people don’t catch on; Steve suppresses a snort every time one of Eddie’s work buddies has called Steve his “roommate.”

“Yeah, I’m some roommate,” Steve says drily later, when they’re alternating making out in the back of the van and splitting a joint between them.

“Best roommate I ever had, sweetheart,” Eddie leans in and catches Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth.

A few folks have cottoned on, however. One of the other mechanics is an old friend of Wayne’s from the war and their post-war protest days, and shares Eddie’s uncle’s stoic open-mindedness, asking after Eddie’s “fella.” The owner of the salon calls Eddie Steve’s “special friend” with a twinkling sort of knowingness, but she means well enough.

But, there’s other types of knowingness, too. Frankie, the middle-aged woman at the garage who gives the boys a nod with a twinkle in her eye on her way out when she catches Eddie practically throwing himself into Steve’s arms in the parking lot. Serenity, the punk stylist with multi-colored hair and piercings down her ear that mentions her own roommate to Steve with a Cheshire cat smile. Teddy, the shy 17 year-old taking classes while he’s still in high school with an eye on the cosmetology school who asks Steve if he can put in a good word for him at the salon.

“Did Robin tell you about that club they’ve got up at Emerson?” Steve asks one night over their dinner of cheeseburgers and fries. “The...GLA?”

“GSA,” Eddie corrects, “yeah, she told me. Gay-Straight Alliance, right? What about it?”

Steve hums, thoughtful.

“Maybe I’ll try to start one, next year. At Tech.”

There’s a delicate anxiety that ripples in the air between them, but there’s excitement, too, at the idea.

Eddie’s smile widens.

“That’s a great idea, Stevie.”

Friday nights are reserved for Corroded Coffin concerts, the boys rushing from work to the Hideout to make it in time for Eddie’s gig. The crowd is still modest, but growing, Eddie’s reputation, both tainted and reformed, a bolster that drew people in. “I mean, yeah, sure, but it’s the talent that got them to stay. Seriously, who could look away when Eddie’s the front man?” Steve is quick to insist whenever someone brings it up, hair teased and wearing his own band shirt proudly. By Saturday afternoon, the kids are all piled in around the coffee table for Eddie’s latest campaign, Steve setting out snacks and crowding around the table with them to watch, keeping up a commentary of snarky or confused asides just to rile Mike up. On Sundays, Steve cuts coupons at the Munson family dinner table, glasses he realized he needed a few weeks in to trying to make out the class blackboards slipping down his nose.

In between, he studies for long hours on the couch, determined not to mess things up this time. When he gets too tired, the words starting to blur on the page and his frustration becoming visible, Eddie will take the textbook from his hand and read it out loud to him, Steve tucked up contentedly against his boyfriend’s side.

Robin calls twice a week, spending at least an hour on the phone with Steve as she gives him the latest rundown on college life and how she and Nancy are faring. The rare times they all manage to be home at the same time, Steve and Eddie cook together, sharing a family meal with Wayne. They go to every one of Lucas’s basketball games they can manage, and Eddie has even made the special trip back to Hawkins to go alone when Steve can’t make it due to night school. His half butchered attempt to recount what happened afterwards always makes Steve giggle.

The following Christmas, Eddie buys Steve a pastel pink polo shirt he knows cost too much. Steve decides it’s the best piece of clothing he’s ever gotten, more aware of its worth than he had been of anything else hanging in his closet before. Eddie can barely get him to wear a coat over it even though it’s snowing outside.

They come together, like disparate pieces of a puzzle, to form this mosaic of a life they’ve built for themselves.

Steve thinks about it, one morning, as he watches Eddie pouring coffee into Steve’s ‘World’s Greatest Mom’ mug and Eddie’s own personal favorite, the one with the rainbow on the front. About picket fences and cross-country RV road trips with a gaggle of kids in the back.

This isn’t that, exactly. Not the life Steve had pictured for himself, clinging on desperately to a dream that comforted him when the world seemed dark. Certainly not the life his parents’ had wanted for him, if anything the exact opposite.

Maybe he’ll have the fantasy someday. Not the typical suburban nuclear family version of it, sure, but a version all his own.

And maybe he won’t. Steve wouldn’t trade it for this, anyway, even a second of it.

Because, for once, in his life, he’s happy. Tired, sure, and always unbelievably busy, but incandescently happy.

When Eddie turns and places Steve’s coffee in front of him, black with two sugars just the way Steve likes it, he catches Steve’s gaze. His eyebrows draw together at Steve’s expression, smile confused.

“What’re you staring at, big boy?” Eddie wipes at the corner of his mouth. “I got drool on my face or something?”

“Nothing,” Steve murmurs, still sleepy-eyed as he pulls Eddie down into a kiss, “just love you.”

“Yeah?” Eddie exhales the word against his lips, breathless like he still doesn’t quite believe it. “I love you, too, baby.”

Maybe they’ll move out of Hawkins, some day, when the kids finally graduate and scatter, follow Dustin to University of Chicago or wherever he ends up. Maybe they’ll take up an apartment near Nancy and Robin on the East Coast, or spend a summer with Jonathan and Argyle in San Fran, having a wild, queer time.

But, those are thoughts for the far distant future. For now, they’re happy. Safe. Satisfied.

Home.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my stuff #my things #my writing #something something building a life for yourself against the odds in a small town in the 80s #it sounds angsty at the start but i promise this is happy #more impossibly long not!fic from yours truly

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