#special guest steve harrington | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherrychilli · 2 days

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18+ Perv! Steve Harrington x Perv! reader, F reader, friends to lovers, scent kink, reader being a bit of a creep but Steve's into it because duh, masturbation (f) sexual acts in public, mentions of and allusions to oral sex (f)

WC: 5K

A/N: I was going to split this into two parts but fuck it. Two for one special. Still feeling rusty when it comes to writing so go easy on me, yeah? Also, this one's kind of gross at times. Just a little bit. Nothing extreme but just letting you know incase you're someone who gets squeamish easily. Enjoy!

The hair? sure. Everyone liked his hair.

People usually fell into two camps when it came to Steve Harrington's signature do; either they envied it or they hoped to be one of the lucky ones who got to run their fingers through it.

You used to daydream about the latter when you only knew him from afar but now that he no longer ran with a particular kind of crowd, now that he's just Steve and no longer the King, you managed to get close enough to find out that he smelled nice too.

Really nice.

So, figuring out that he used women's shampoo shouldn't have been the revelation that it was because it made so much sense, his tresses never scented with a wintry pine or spicy cedarwood like most scent profiles marketed to men.

You had your friends to thank for your stumbling upon that discovery, the group of them arriving at your home to bully you out of your PJ's and into a pair of jeans and shoes, uprooting you from your room on a Saturday afternoon for an outing to the fancy part of the mall.

While they searched for new make-up, you wandered a section of the store by yourself, uncapping the pretty bottles in the hair care aisle whenever the sales assistants' attention wandered elsewhere, squeezing each one carefully to sample the array of scents. You did this idly and with no real plans to purchase anything, just something to pass the time while your friends crowded another display a few aisles away, chattering blissfully and swatching lipsticks.

Picking up a fifth shampoo from the lineup of bottles, you brought the uncapped rim up to your face, lightly skimming your cupids bow with it as you gently inhaled. While fun, you'd spent most of your time at the mall feeling a little bored, a small part of you still desiring to go back home where you could lounge and laze in peace. That was until you began to recognize the scent of the newest shampoo you had clutched in your hand, the familiarity of it triggering a whirlpool of memories.

In seconds, your mind plunged back to the night of Jack Sullivan's graduation party. The first time Steve Harrington had spoken to you – really spoken to you since he’d parted ways with Carol and Tommy, seeming much more approachable than he had in the past.

The two of you had ended up sharing the patio swing outside where the air wasn't as thick with smoke and the smell of spilled booze. Making conversation, he offered you a beer he'd originally intended to give Robin before she'd slipped away into one of the guest bathrooms with your best friend Sally. You both knew why, sharing a look of understanding but never mentioning the obvious out loud out of loyalty to your friends.

Then there was the only day it rained in July, remembering the way your fingers brushed against his as you handed him your umbrella. You'd discovered him taking refuge under the awning of the diner you worked at that morning, face twisted all worrisome as he looked up from his wristwatch to the downpour in front of him, forced into walking to work that day due to his car still being in the shop. The only light that shone that day was the gleaming smile he gave you when he thanked you for your kindness.

And then there was the time when you had your head down while scanning a tape at Family Video, bumping face first into Steve's chest when you rounded the corner, his name tag catching on your bottom lip. It was the tiniest sliver of a cut, barely noticeable or painful but oh, how he fussed over you like you were made of porcelain. He’d gone so far as to sit you down on his chair behind the counter as if you might collapse from blood loss at any moment, whizzing into the break room and back with a fist full of napkins to dab the miniscule wound that had already stopped bleeding.

All of those memories and more linked by one scent. This scent.

With your pupils dilating like a cat prepared to pounce, you flipped the bottle over to read the contents.

White frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, bergamot waters, sea salt breeze and sunkissed musk.

Steve Harrington in a bottle. And the quickest 16 dollars you've ever spent.

And with that purchase came the self-imposed reminder to exercise caution. Upon leaving the mall with your friends, your mood much chipper than when you'd arrived, you made sure to hardly ever use the shampoo when you bathed, afraid that if Steve smelled it on you later, somehow, he'd be able to put the pieces together and know why you'd bought it, even as wildly unlikely as that seemed.

So instead, you huffed the bottle in private on most days, only using it when you knew you'd be spending the day at home. On those eagerly awaited days you luxuriated in the scent as you applied the shampoo in your shower, mind and fingers wandering, working your peaked nipples and your firm clit up to the thought of Steve joining you in your shower and fucking you dumb – tits pressed up against the cold, wet tiles, ass bouncing on his hips as he stretched you open and used you well.

But now that you'd discovered this new kind of hunger you had to make sure to keep it well fed and when the shampoo didn't feel like enough anymore, you set out to purchase his cologne.

The scent was one you had memorized from all of your trips to the video store, hanging around the counter while Steve talked to you about which movie you ought to rent next. You could smell it on his neck whenever he leaned in close on his elbows, face inches away from yours, wishing he'd close the distance and meet your lips with his.

Another trip to the mall had you scouring the men's section like a wolf tracking the scent of injured prey, sampling bottle after bottle of cologne until you found it.

Aromatic sage, dark tonka bean and rich sandalwood. Priced at a cool $39.50 which you gladly forked over because to you, it was all money well spent.

The cologne became part of your nightly routine after that, dabbing drops of the heady scent on your body when you went to bed, the smell making your arousal climb before lulling you to sleep an orgasm later, evoking dreams of Steve throughout the night that made you wake up to your panties all damp and sticking to your core by morning.

You were content that way, the shampoo and the cologne enough to satiate your fixation on the way Steve smelled all while managing to maintain your friendship with him without things becoming weird.

What ended up shattering that peace however was running into him a few weeks later coming out of the Y, just done with a game of basketball as he spotted you passing by and happily waved you down.

He smiled at you just as brightly as he had all those months ago in July, this time dressed in his gym clothes; a pair of green shorts that showed off the thickness of his toned, hairy thighs and a grey t-shirt, the sleeves filled out well by his tanned biceps and its collar darkened by sweat.

Up close, you could smell the exertion on him and that was what became your undoing.

It took every iota of self-control not to rush him to the ground and pin him beneath you, feeling more and more like a caged animal the longer the conversation went on and you were forced to compose yourself.

It was the kind of scent you wanted to sink into, more so than the cologne or the shampoo because this was Steve completely unadulterated – that earthy musk, that rugged, almost spicy all-natural scent that you wouldn't be able to find on any shelf.

Barely managing to hold it together until parting ways with him, you knew you wouldn't be able to rest without it, mind already working to devise a plan.

"Risve- what?"

You chuckled as the word died on Steve's tongue, knowing he'd trip up on the pronunciation. Reaching for a pen and a scrap of paper sitting on the counter, you wrote the word down for him. "Risvegli. It's Italian", you explain, handing it to him as you do your best to repress the shiver that runs through you when his slender fingers graze yours, trying hard to quieten your mind after all the ways you’ve imagined those very fingers touching you in your most sensitive places.

"It's kind of an obscure flick but I like that sort of stuff. D'you think you could have a look and see if you've got a copy in the back?", you try not to bat your lashes too much when you ask, not wanting to overplay the sweetness to the point that it comes off as insincere or worse, suspicious.

Steve looks down to study the paper, cheeks dusted a pretty pink, you can’t help but notice. The ends of his hair are still damp from his shower at the Y, just as you expected now that you knew which days he spent there before clocking in for work.

"For you? Definitely", he looked back up and smiled at you in that way that made your heart somersault. "Be right back". He leaves you alone at the counter and you make sure to wait for him to disappear out of sight into the back, stamping down a flash of guilt for having sent him off to search for a movie that didn't exist to buy you time.

You'd planned it all last night, stepping away from the counter before heading towards the employee break room, able to sneak in without fear of running into Robin because you knew she'd be spending the day with Sally on her day off from working at the diner.

Steve’s duffle bag is in plain view as you shut the door to the little room behind you quietly, resting on a chair that'd been pulled out from the table where you imagined he probably shared his lunch breaks with Robin.

Striding up to it, you find the zipper and tentatively, you pull it open to reveal the contents. What you're looking for is balled up at the very top, picking up the sweat damp t-shirt with clammy, trembling fingers. You're really crossing a line this time and you know it, your teeth close to piercing the soft skin of your bottom lip as you bite down on it but you can't deny that there's just something so exhilarating about the whole thing too. The lying, the sneaking around, the risk – it's all a little too much and your mind grows foggy with it, dulling your once sharp intuition and giving way to a moment of weakness that has you abandoning caution now that you're alone.

Waiting to do indulge your urges until you're safe at home feels impossible now that you've got your hands on it, eagerly pressing your nose into the damp t-shirt, eyes nearly rolling back as you filled your lungs with the smell of him. It must have been the pheromones, it had to be, awakening that primal kind of desire in you that had you parting your lips and pressing the tip of your tongue to one of the sweat stains, sucking on the sour, salty musk that had soaked into the cotton.

What you're doing is so dirty, damn near repulsive and knowing that just fuels you even more as you begin to salivate. You're too wrapped up in the earthy scent of him, too lost in the taste to notice when the door handle jiggles behind you, too drunk on the sick thought of what Steve’s used boxers must smell like if you were to pull those out of his duffle next when all of a sudden, it's too late.

The door to the break room swings open and in walks Steve, the world screeching to a sickening standstill when his eyes fall on you.

Your own eyes bulging, you watch in mute horror as he takes in the sight before him, the scrap of paper you'd handed him earlier slipping from between his thumb and forefinger, fluttering to the floor like the wings of a dying butterfly.

It's impossible to know what he's thinking. Is it disgust? if so, he hid it well. Bewilderment? You weren't sure. Ice crackles over your bones as the two of you stare for a few seconds longer, Steve's expression still unreadable.

The whole thing's all the more uncomfortable because of the way he continues to watch you like you’re something to be studied, looking contemplative as you trembled in place, wishing for the ground to break open beneath your feet and swallow you away into a never-ending crevasse.

But as the seconds tick by and the ground stays perfectly intact you're left to seek your own respite.

Despite what feels like the blood retreating from your veins, your body shifts into auto pilot as you wordlessly place the rumpled t-shirt back in Steve's duffel and do the only thing you can do in a fucked up situation like this – walk away. Even as he tries to call after you, you ignore his shouts, continuing on a path towards and out the exit, mortified.

You don't go back to Family Video after that. In fact, you avoid that entire street for a whole week.

The days following being caught out by Steve were some of the worst you've had to endure. Shame made a home in your body, making you ache with a belly full of thorns and your thoughts growing increasingly heavy and abrasive as they flood your throbbing head.

For those seven days you carried around the dread of knowing that Steve had discovered that secret side of you, the feeling worsening at the thought of him telling others what he had seen and rendering you some kind of town pariah – even though a tiny, hopeful whisper inside your raucous head told you that he probably hadn't said anything, at least not yet since Sally hadn't even seemed to have gotten word of the incident from Robin.

But that's all it was. A tiny, fleeting whisper that did nothing to calm you.

At home, you buried yourself in your blankets, letting your anxieties exhaust you to sleep and at work you moved as if you were fighting your way through thick slurry – slow and dragging your body from table to table, unsmiling as you took patrons' meal orders and served them their food.

You continued like that all throughout your shift, waiting for the moment you could peel your polyester uniform off in favour of your own clothes and drive yourself home. With only 30 minutes left before closing, your shoulders which had been pulled tight all day with tension began to sag, a momentary wash of relief coursing through you. That was until you smelled it – smelled him.

Whipping around, your stomach plummets when your eyes fall on Steve walking through the door – and to make things worse, he’s carrying that duffle on his shoulder.

He's yet to have spotted you, taking a seat at one of the empty booths though you notice the way his eyes are scanning the diner, searching.

It's obvious that you’re the one he’s looking for as worry courses down your spine like a lightning strike. Was he going to confront you? right here? in front of all these people? Normally you wouldn’t peg Steve as someone who’d do something so cruel but after what he’d caught you doing, a little public humiliation doesn’t seem all that undeserved, you had to admit.

So, carefully you retreat into the breakroom without drawing his attention, pulling a perplexed Sally along with you once you'd caught hold of her by her elbow.

Once safely inside, you all but blubber in her face, begging her to wait on Steve's table, even promising her all your tips for the next week in exchange.

Seeing the distress contorting your face must have made her feel sorry for you because she pulls you in for a quick, tight hug, running her hand up and down your back in an attempt to calm you. You'd only given her little snippets of what had happened at the video store, making sure to alter a few details for the sake of concealing how far you’d actually gone that day. To her, the gist of it was that you'd embarrassed yourself horribly and that was all she really needed to know, springing into action as the compassionate best friend to the rescue.

"I've got it, okay? just breathe", she'd repeated soothingly into your hair, giving you a quick squeeze and her best reassuring smile before you reluctantly unwind your hands from around her, allowing her to step out of the break room ahead of you.

Outside again, thirty minutes drag on like hours while you purposely stick to the part of the diner that's furthest away from Steve's table. You don't dare look at him but you do sneak a glance when Sally walks by with his order, a single black coffee and nothing else which he sips leisurely while you tremble.

If his plan was to confront you then what the hell was he waiting for? There was nothing stopping him from walking up to you while sweat collects between your shoulder blades as you clear the tables of customers who’ve settled their bill and since left. Nothing to prevent him from stepping up to the counter while you nervously rubbed the surface of it free of crumbs and stains to demand an explanation for your bizarre behavior last week. Nothing to stop him from simply walking up to you at any moment and ask to know what the fuck your deal was.

But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he finishes his coffee and casually waves down Sally for the bill while smiling politely. Somehow that causes you even more unease.

In that moment you lose sight of Steve when you’re called over to serve the only other table of customers left, a family of five keen to fit in one last round of milkshakes before they call an end to their meal.

You see to their order despite your shaking limbs, returning with a tray crowded with the cold, sweet drinks, setting each one down carefully in front of the smiling children and their parents before you head back behind the counter with your tray clutched close to your chest. The whole thing must have taken you ten minutes and when you sneak one more look in Steve’s direction you find his booth empty this time.

Eyes frantically searching the diner, you manage to catch a final glimpse of him walking out the front door, bell chiming above him as he departs, leaving the diner and you with even more questions than you had when he'd first arrived.

Had Steve changed his mind? Had he just wanted to make you sweat for the hell of it? Taken pleasure in watching you try to keep it together in his presence while you traipsed around the diner all too carefully like a petrified newborn deer?

Why had he shown up at all today if he wasn’t going to...do anything?

You get your answer fifteen minutes later when wearily, you trudge into the staff room at the end of your shift, pulling open your locker and all but fainting at the sight of what’s been placed inside beside your belongings.

Neatly folded inside is Steve's grey t-shirt, the same one you'd tried unsuccessfully to "borrow" last week The scent of him is instantly recognizable as you inhale shakily, fingers reaching out to touch the slightly damp cotton to confirm to yourself that you weren’t in fact hallucinating the whole thing.

When your pulse starts to settle and the static crackling in your ears starts to cease you notice a little scrap of folded paper placed inside too. Picking it up and pulling it open, it's with a deep, dreamy sigh that your chest blooms with sunny warmth as you read the note, a smile gracing your lips for the first time in a week.

Three months later...

The only good thing about working the graveyard shift at the diner was that Steve always insisted on coming in an hour before you clocked out so he could drive you home.

Occupying one of the booths inside the sleepy diner, he'd keep himself busy with his phone while you worked, perking up whenever you came by to freshen up his coffee or sneak him a piece of pie he hadn't ordered with all his favorite fixings.

It was during those moments that he liked to have a little fun with you, quickly surveying the room to make sure no customers or staff were looking over in your direction before he'd slip his fingers under your skirt and pinch your ass. Sometimes you'd see it coming and other times he'd catch you off guard, cruel delight curling his lips into a smirk whenever you had to stifle your surprised squeals.

And that's as far as he usually took, patiently waiting until he could get you in his car for more but today felt different.

With no new customers coming in in the last two hours, Sally had taken to the break room to work in a nap while the kitchen staff had stepped out back to smoke and deal cards to pass the time. That left just you working the front with Steve as the diner's only patron.

Having no one else around meant you could flirt freely with him now, making sure to look over your shoulder every now and then just incase to make sure you didn't get caught.

You spent that time alone together with his boot gently tapping against your shoe under the table, reaching out and fiddling with his fingers because you always liked to be touching him while you happily teased each other as the minutes passed by.

Somewhere in the middle of your playful banter you noticed Steve's cup was now empty, picking yourself up from the booth to bring over more coffee. As you leaned over the edge of the table to pour, you anticipated the glide of his fingers on your thigh, inching up your skirt to situate them between your legs.

"You're going to get me fired one of these days", you chide him, still holding on to the pot of coffee once you'd finished refilling his cup.

"Good – then I can have you all to myself", he teased back, index finger drawing patterns on your inner thigh, just a few inches below the lacy trim of your panties.

"Steve", you attempt to scold but there's barely any heat there for him to take it seriously, fingers daring to trail higher.

Meeting his heavy gaze, you watch him search your eyes for a moment, the soft smirk that had been tugging at the corner of his lips slowly fading away as something more serious clouds his expression when he leans forward to whisper to you.

"No one's around, baby. Please? Can I?"

It takes you a second before you know exactly what he's asking for without needing him to specify, heat rising up from the depths of your chest and gathering in your cheeks.

He's got that look in his eyes too and you know that this is what it must have looked like the day he caught you with your face buried in his sweaty t-shirt. That feverish glint of potent want making his iris' gleam.

"Steve, it's too risky", you try to reason quietly despite the way your thighs are already parting for him, allowing him to skim the pads of his fingers over the seat of your panties, teasing your waiting folds through the thin later of fabric.

"Never stopped you before", he's quick to reply with wink, making you grow warmer at the reminder.

He's got you beat there.

"I promise I'll be quick", he pleads again softly and it's almost comical how quickly you buckle under the weight of his needy gaze.

"Shit, okay", you concede as you step closer to the edge of the booth and he pulls himself closer too, hand moving higher to cup your ass under your skirt.

You sigh contently when Steve leans forward and presses his nose against the front of your uniform, right over the juncture between your legs. You're careful to keep your grip tight on the handle of the coffee pot you're still carrying when he takes in a deep breath, inhaling your scent right through your clothes.

Steve liked to joke that you brought out this side of him, the one that made the both of you realize how alike you really were.

It started with the way he liked to linger between your legs after he'd finished eating you out. Your ruined panties spilled out of his back pocket, never to be returned to you as he took his time pressing sweet kisses against your swollen folds and spent clit with his sticky lips, clearly pleased with himself as you fought to catch your breath from the orgasm that'd rippled through you.

And as things progressed, he wasn't secretive about wanting to fuck you so hard and often that the smell of you would linger in the air long after you were done. Or how he liked to nestle his nose in the curls on your mound once he'd finished laving at your pussy – the moreish combination of sweat, saliva and your natural musk making his twitching cock stiffen all over again as he rut into the mattress for a second time, painting his sticky boxers with another generous load.

Other times he'd get on his knees for you, pulling you close by your hips so he could place his face against your clothed cunt and mumble dreamy praises about how good your pussy smelled. And you always loved it when he got like that, even now as your free hand strokes lazily through his caramel hair, letting him do this to you in the middle of your place of work, your coworkers unaware but not far away enough that they couldn't walk in at any moment and find the two of you like this.

"Stevie", you whined softly as you tried to get his attention, a reluctant reminder that the two of you should probably stop before it's too late.

"Jus' a little more, please? need it to tide me over before I can get you alone". His eyes are all glazed over when he looks up at you, tentatively slipping his other hand up the front of your thigh to hitch up the hem of your skirt ever so slightly, his gaze all pleading as he waits for your permission.

With the way he's managed to work you up, your panties more that a little tacky from his attention and your belly tightening with warmth, how could you possibly refuse when you needed this just as badly as he did?

"Fuck. Yes, okay – just be careful", you urge gently because 'be quick' doesn't seem likely anymore.

A look of pure bliss breaks out on his reddening face. "Christ. Thank you, baby", Steve groans appreciatively, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties before burying his face against your clothed mound. He can feel the outline of your cunt perfectly when he's this close – so soft and plump, his mounting greed has him battling the urge to pull the soaked cotton down to your knees and start sucking the tangy slick from your pretty, swollen pussy lips before pressing deeper to lick at your tight hole and all it has to offer.

Restraining himself, he lets out a muffled moan against your core that has your clit swelling and throbbing, your eyes slipping shut while you give yourself to him. It's almost soothing the way he savors you so shamelessly, head partially ducked underneath your rucked up skirt, fingers gently squeezing your ass with his blunt nails making light indents in your skin.

You let him breathe you in for a while longer until you begin to feel a little floaty and more than a little needy from it all, expecting Steve to pull away soon because how much longer could you get away with doing this in public? Stopping him isn't what you want, not really but you knew better than to push your luck by now.

But instead of him reluctantly withdrawing away from you, what you feel next is the wet drag of his tongue along your messy panties, warm, firm and sudden.

Although definitely not unwelcome, under the circumstances, the feeling of it startles you and you can't help but cry out with a yelp, arm jerking backwards as a splash of coffee makes its way onto the checkered diner floor.

Hearts hammering, the both of you rip apart from each other then, Steve with his wide eyes and ruffled hair as he plasters himself to his seat while you very nearly lose what's left of your balance when your shoes skid over the wet mess of spilled coffee. You manage to catch yourself though when you grab the edge of his table with your free hand, finally placing the damn coffee pot down to hurriedly pull your skirt back into place.

Silence overtakes the room as the both of you peer wordlessly in the direction of the kitchen and breakroom, waiting to see if you'd accidentally drawn the attention of any nearby diner staff.

Seconds turn into a minute and when no one comes through either of the doors you allow yourself to sigh out in relief, turning back to Steve.

"Shit. I'm sorry I couldn't help it – had to taste you, honey. You just – fuck, you just smell so fucking good. I needed a little more", he tries to explain when your eyes connect, his cheeks sheened with a thin layer of perspiration and flushed a deep pink.

You were foolish to think you could let him do all of that and endure waiting until the end of your shift to take things further in his car. Leaving him with his lips parted and his jaw slack, you stride away to the diner's entrance to quickly flip the 'open' sign over to read 'closed', rushing back to tug Steve up and out of his seat urgently, grinning when you catch sight of the stiff bulge straining in his jeans.

"Supply closet. Now. Need you to put that mouth of yours to good use."

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #stranger things #steve harrington x reader

653 notes · View notes

wtfsteveharrington · 2 years

Text

sorry to interrupt / steve harrington x reader

content & contains: requested!! set during s4. you were on watch duty with steve, he convinces you to share the special treatment you receive at the wheelers.

reader wakes up to steve grinding against her, lil bit of perv!steve (my beloved), choking (steve receiving), thigh riding, hints of hung steve!size kink, hand job, pussy job, fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie. mentions of bruising/hickies, tearing up, and scratching.

author’s note: realized after that this is all technically happening at his ex girlfriend’s house......... sorry nancy. all my love to @yellowharrington & @chestharrington who always encourage every unholy thought i have and eagerly read whatever brain rot i give them at all hours of the day.

word count: almost 4.9k

i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week

Out of all the random kids who run around his house, you’re Ted Wheeler’s favorite.

Everyone else was stuck piling into the cramped basement while Ted made a big show of letting you know that the guest bedroom was made up for you. It would be embarrassing if you weren’t so entertained by the groans of protest coming from Dustin and Steve.

Steve who then, suspiciously, made sure he was on watch duty with you.

The two of you took first watch and it went by relatively quickly. Steve was dozing off in his chair again while you kept yourself alert with one of the old puzzles that sat around the Wheeler’s basement. He wakes up after about 15 minutes, clearly startled before giving you a sheepish smile. You weren’t sure how well he was sleeping these days, so the sight of him knocked out for any amount of time? You would have let him sleep the whole night through.

There’s the sound of shuffling filling up the quiet room as he comes to sit next to you on the floor, the sides of your thighs pressed flush together under the low coffee table, and begins working on the puzzle as well. Sorting out edge pieces and making piles of what he assumes goes together. There’s an almost finished ocean scape in front of you when faint beeping started to come from Lucas Sinclair’s watch, signaling it was shift change. He’s groggy, sitting up and grumbling to himself as he tries to wake up.

Steve slides a soda, the only source of caffeine almost all the kids would willingly drink, and a few snacks across the table towards the boy. Lucas gives you both the best smile he can muster, scanning the room and finding Max sat on the floor by the desk. He’s grabbing the stuff off the table, the blanket from the couch, and stumbling his way through the dark room towards Max.

You and Steve start collecting your own things. He’s grabbing your bag out of your hands, slinging it on his shoulder so you didn’t have to carry it, grabbing his jacket off the chair while you get your shoes from the foot of the couch. You spare a glance across the basement, heart melting as you watch Lucas wrap the blanket around his and Max’s shoulders. He takes a sip of the Coke then offers the can towards her, giving her knee a squeeze once his hand was free. They easily settle into a hushed conversation and you catch Steve smiling at the sight too before you both make your way up the stairs.

Steve’s shared his bed with you. Twice. Once after a party at his house got a little too crazy and there was no way you could drive, or even walk, home. You woke up tucked into his bed, your hair pulled into a haphazard ponytail, and a cup of water with Advil sitting next to it on the nightstand.

The second time was late one night after the Starcourt incident. There had been a group of you who got together a week later once things settled down. Recounting what each person knew and had been through while everyone was apart. It wasn’t always the easiest to talk about but everyone agreed it was important that all information be out on the table. Almost everyone slowly trickled out one by one as the night got later, all except Robin who excused herself to the guest bedroom to sleep. You could have sworn she gave Steve a very pointed look as she left the living room, leaving the two of you alone on the couch, but you were pretty sure you imagined it.

It was Steve’s turn to fall asleep first that night. You let him sleep on your shoulder for about twenty minutes before exhaustion finally threatened to take over your body.

All you planned on doing was getting him upstairs to his room, but he grabbed your hand as you turned to leave and asked you to stay. Mumbling something about how it was late and, more importantly, how he felt safer with you around. Probably something he wouldn’t admit without the fog of sleep but it worked. You two woke up in a tangled mess, letting yourselves savor the connection for a little longer than you should have, quickly excusing yourself to freshen up once it began to drag on a little too long.

Robin grinned into her coffee cup that entire morning the three of you ate breakfast together, both of you pushing food around your plates while refusing to look at one another.

So yeah, sharing your bed with him tonight was the least you could do.

You’re getting ready for bed in a comfortable silence. Changing into an oversized shirt from your bag and taking off whatever remnants of your makeup made it this far into the night. Out of the corner of your eye you catch Steve stripping down to just his boxes then tugging a pair of sweatpants on. He’s scratching his bare chest and you focus on the way his fingers drag through his chest hair absentmindedly. You spare a thought as to what it must feel like to touch his chest before going back to getting ready for bed while he untucks the blanket and gets the bed ready for the night.

You guys settle into bed easily. Exhaustion taking over before either of you have the time to overthink being in bed together.

✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧

You were hot.

Like, depths of hell levels of insanely hot.

It takes a minute to register where this heat is coming from as you wake up... Low and behold, Steve Harrington did not stick to his side of the bed. At first you assume he’s just reached out to cuddle against you in his sleep. It would make sense. But then you feel something that quickly breaks down that theory and now you’re trying to process the fact holy shit he’s hard and holy shit he’s grinding on you in his sleep.

Maybe for the slightest, briefest of moments you allow yourself to enjoy the feeling. You’d be outraged if it were anyone else, but for some reason the fact that it’s Steve? The man who’s saved you life multiple times? The man who tucks his stupid shirts into his stupid jeans and loves to play with his stupid belt buckle absentmindedly when he’s thinking? The very same man who always seems to have his hand on your knee when you sit together or your lower back while you walk next to him? Maybe you’re having a little less concern towards the situation than you should.

You can feel Steve twitching against your ass, a low moan right in your ear. Part of you wonders what he’s dreaming about... Fine, maybe you’re solely wondering if he’s dreaming about you and oddly jealous if he’s not. He’s rocking up against you, a shockingly smooth motion.

Finally you reach backwards, gently squeezing his hip a few times to wake him up. “Steve? Stevie?” He’s grumbling against your hair, tightening his grip on your body and pulling the two of you flush together. You’re starting to get wet, heat building between your thighs as you squeeze at him a bit more frantically. “Steve Harrington wake up.”

He fully awakes with a jolt. Taking a moment to assess the situation before jerking his hips back from you and stuttering out a string of apologies. “Holy shit, I’m so sorry. How long have you been awake? Did you feel that? I can’t believe-...” Cutting himself off and burying his face in his hands as he lays flat on the bed. Did you feel that? There was no way you couldn’t have felt it.

You risk a glance back just to see Steve’s chest rising and falling so quickly, a noticeable bulge coming from under the blanket that’s slung low on his waist. You desperately want to reach out and touch him. “Not a big deal.” He’s scoffing now, hands coming down to his chest. You have to look away.

“Not a big deal? I have no clue what the hell came over me. Just give me like a second to collect myself. Gonna take care of this mess in the bathroom and then I’ll sleep downstairs tonight.”

The mental image of him jerking off in the bathroom doesn’t help your situation.

“Steve there’s like twenty people in this house and only two bathrooms. You’re gonna end up getting interrupted and I don’t wanna have to explain to people why you went from sleeping with me to jacking off in the bathroom. If you have to take care of yourself, do it in here. Won’t look, promise.” Sure, maybe it’s flawed logic but it’s late.

He doesn’t waste any time, throwing the blanket off his overheated body as you turn your back towards him. Steve’s pretending not to notice how the blanket’s now mostly on your side and in front of your body. Leaving your thighs, the bottom curve of your ass, everything exposed to him. He tightens his grip on his cock while letting his eyes wonder across the seam of your panties until they disappear between your thighs. Maybe it’s wrong, but he can’t help himself.

In the comfort of your half asleep haze, this didn’t seem like too bad of an idea... But now you hear Steve’s breathy whimpers as he strokes himself right behind you and you’re starting to question your decision. He’s spitting into his hand, now slick his fist around his cock sounds now is making you rub your thighs together for some ounce of relief. A motion that might have gone unnoticed if all of his focus wasn’t on you.

His head falls back on the pillow, cock twitching in his fist. “Fuck.” A high pitched, broken sound. You arch your ass out a little more, the cold chill in the air alerting you that it’s exposed. You’re mumbling into your pillow, “Someone’s gonna hear you… Won’t exactly help our cause”

There’s little shame. His moans are getting more out of control. Louder, drawn out. It’s making you throb and feel dizzy at the same time.

“Do I need to make you be quiet?”

The response comes quick, surprising you both.

“Fuck yes.”

You finally turn around in the bed to face him, body working on auto pilot because you can’t actually think about what’s happening. Maybe this is just some grand plot you’re dreaming up? That seems more feasible.

Throwing one of your legs over his thigh in order to straddle it, you adjust yourself until your core is flush against his skin. Telling yourself it’s just to keep your body balanced, nothing more. Yet, at the same time, the feeling of your warmth on his skin instantly pulls a loud moan out of Steve, his knee coming up with the same mental excuse of trying to give you stability. That’s all. Nothing more. You were just a friend trying to help him out and keep you both from getting shit if the rest of the group found out.

He’s moaning out your name now, a needy and wanton sound.

You never knew he could be so loud.

Again your body acts before your mind can catch up.

One of your hands comes up to clamp over Steve’s mouth, his eyes going wide as he now moans against your palm and the vibrations on your skin sending shivers down your spine. You watch as he’s clutching the sheets beneath you both, his cock laying on his stomach so heavy and so pretty. He notices that you’re stuck staring down at him, deciding to push his luck by arching his hips up towards you.

The action makes you smirk, feeling extremely drunk on power. You drag your nails down his chest with your free hand, slowly rocking your core along his thigh at the same time. Steve can feel you getting more wet, his cock once again twitching at all the stimulation.

“You want me to touch you?”

He responds by tilting his hips up towards his chest, desperately trying to get dick closer to your hand. You take some pity, swiping your pointer finger along his slit to collect the precum dripping out. Making a big show of sticking your tongue out and licking your finger clean. Steve’s kissing at your hand over his mouth, silently begging for you to give him anything before he combusts.

Your hand falls down from your lips to between your thighs, collecting some of the wetness pooling at your core, using that hand to finally wrap around Steve’s length. He’s bucking up into your fist, groaning out your name into your other hand. You lower yourself back on his thigh, rocking your hips along it in time with with the movement of your wrist. He’s just slighting moving his leg back and forth, adding a bit more friction.

Watching him writher under you while you work his length is a power trip like you’ve never felt. Steve’s going wild which only adds to your ego. Humming his approval at your motions.

It’s not until your fingers slide from his mouth to cup his balls, marveling the weight of them in your hand and tightening your grip around his cock that Steve really starts to lose all train of thought. Biting down on his lip to keep from getting too loud.

Your thrown off balance when his hands start grabbing at your hips, pulling your body towards him. You take the hint, eagerly straddling his waist and reaching down to push your ruined panties to the side. Lowering yourself until Steve’s length is tucked between your folds.

“Holy fuc-“

You’ll never know what came over you tonight, but your hand flies up to Steve’s throat. Gently applying pressure to either side while his adam’s apple vibrates against your palm with all the moans he can’t actually make. “Are you gonna be quiet if I let you fuck me?” He’s nodding enthusiastically, an almost panicked look behind his eyes at the thought of you leaving him now.

Steve’s not sure what is driving him more crazy - The slick sound of your pussy rubbing over his cock, the dizzying way you keep applying a fluttering pressure to his neck, or the way you keep whimpering out his name. Just barely a whisper. Quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear it across the room. But it’s his name, and his name has never sound as beautiful as it does falling from your lips.

The head of his cock bumps into your clit, your body giving a small jerk at the sensation. That small movement is his final point of no return and you barely have time to register the fact that you’re moving before Steve has you pinned under him. A cocky grin on his face as he easily takes back all the power you thought you had. You’re grabbing at his shoulders, withering uncomfortably under him as the tension begins building... You needed to be touched, stat.

Steve’s taking pity on you, his hands cupping your sides under your shirt, dragging them up your body. Your chest is now exposed to him, and he leaves you to fumble through fully getting your shirt off while his mouth wraps around one of your nipples. His thumb flicks at the other as you wrap your legs around his waist, rocking yourself up towards him. There’s a stray thought where you’re silently cursing yourself for not wearing cuter underwear, but in your defense who would have thought this was going to happen.

You’re bucking your hips now, freely letting yourself get a little needy because you can tell it does something to Steve. He’s moving from your nipple to the side of your breast, sucking on random spots that were sure to leave a pretty bruise on your skin. He’s pulling away from your tits before running his hands down your body. Only stopping the motion once the waistband of your panties are on his fingers.

He’s grabbing two fistfuls of the ruined material covering your core, tugging it apart with a grunt. Ripping off your underwear and throwing the scraps at the foot of the bed. You yelp out at the motion, the loudest you’ve been all night. He’s figuring out he likes breaking down parts of your self control.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll buy you more.”

His lips are dragging along your jaw while his hand finds your now bare center, cupping over it and keeping his hand flat and firm against you. Now it’s Steve’s turn to tease.

“Are you gonna be quiet if I let you fuck me?” Mimicking your question from earlier.

You instantly nod, arching your hips up off the bed towards him. The small power trip you had earlier almost all but gone as he now takes control. He’s kissing a path from your jaw to your cheek until your lips are just barely together. His ghosting over yours while both of you are a mess of broken and heavy breaths. That’s all you can give each other but somehow it’s more than enough.

“Can I kiss you?” Murmured against your lips. A thoughtful gesture that’s going to make you squeal when you think about this tomorrow, even if it feels a little redundant in the moment. You’re pressing a kiss to his bottom lip for an answer and as your lips finally connect you feel his two fingers drag up through your folds. His thumb presses up towards your clit while he wastes no time pushing those two fingers into you. You’re moaning into his mouth, jaw going slack as Steve’s fingers crook inside of you at the same time his tongue swirls around yours.

You’re reaching to push at his sweatpants and boxers, finally getting them all the way down his thighs and you’re amazed that his motions inside of you don’t stop while he kicks his clothes the rest of the way off. That familiar, uncomfortable tension is building deep inside of you again, your arms wrapping around Steve’s chest and your nails dragging along his skin. It entices a moan out of him and the sound goes straight to your clit.

“Need more, Steve. Need you to fuck me.”

He’s pulling back to look over your face, his fingers still working deep inside of you which makes it harder to concentrate on him. “Can’t fuck you tonight.” What the fuck? Frustration builds, your eyes burning with the threat of tears at the idea that you won’t get what you clearly so desperately need. There’s lips on the corner of your mouth, “No condom, Baby.” Steve’s head cocks to the side, glancing down where the hallway should be. “I wonder if Ted has any. You think he still gets laid? Bet you there’s some in those bathroom drawers.”

“Disgusting! Shut up! You are not going to fuck me with Ted Wheeler’s expired condoms.”

“You’re right... They’re probably too small away.” Steve’s shaking his head as if he’s shaking the thought out of his mind. You were half convinced if there was one more mention of Ted Wheeler you were going to dry up. His wrist is twisting, hitting a new angle as he slips a third finger into you. You know, if you were already making questionable decisions tonight you may as well go all the way. “Just pull out?” It comes out sounding like such a pathetic little question. His jaw tightens and he has to think of every single horrific thing he’s ever seen in life to keep himself from finishing right then and there.

His hand slides out of you as you cry in protest, but it’s seconds later that you feel the head of his cock tapping against your clit. Firm and heavy pressure that has you dragging your nails so hard down his back that you’re leaving behind a mess of angry red marks. Steve swears he must have died at some point and managed to find his way to heaven.

“Never went without one before.” The tip of his cock his pressing against your hole and you can both feel as you tighten around what he’s barely giving you.

“Steve, holy shit. Please, please, please. Need you so bad I don’t even care if you pull out at this point. Just fuck me.” You’re a babbling mess and if you had any pride left you probably would be embarrassed. Every word is playing a risky game with his self control. His eyes are trained on you while he sinks into you slow, both of you savoring the sensation as he stretches you out inch by inch. It’s your turn to get a little loud, Steve instantly leaning in to start kissing you. All in an effort to keep you from getting them caught. You’re choking out a whine into his mouth and his eyes literally roll back at how angelic the sound was.

“Steve, fuck. Feel so full.”

“I know, Honey. Doing such a good job taking me, aren’t you? Your tight little cunt-... Jesus Christ, so fucking amazing.”

It takes every ounce of strength Steve has to not shove himself the rest of the way into you. Wrapped so well around his cock, the way you’re gripping at whatever inch of his body you can reach. This moment will be all he thinks about from now on. Unless he’s lucky enough to get to fuck you again. Then that might take the cake. Then the time after that… He’s refocusing himself on the moment at hand, licking into your mouth and fisting the bed sheets on either side of your waist for more stability.

You feel his trimmed bush on your clit, his balls resting heavy against you as Steve stays still to let you adjust.

He’s reaching down, wrapping his arms around the back of your thighs and bringing your legs up until your knees are over his shoulders. Tilting his head to the side and gently nipping at your calf before licking over the small bite marks. His breathing is getting shallow as he feels you mold around his cock, tightening yourself on his length as you get used to the feeling.

Steve thought you choking him was going to be the hottest thing he saw tonight, but something about the way your hand clamps tight over your own mouth to muffle moans you can’t hold back... It’s his undoing. You’re crying out into your hand as he starts to stroke his hips into you once you’re both settled in the new position. His brows knit in concentration as he sets the rhythm, all the way back just the head of his cock is left in you, then sinking in once again.

If he goes too quickly the wet sounds of his dick stretching out your pussy fill the room and it’s not exactly quiet. So instead he’s fucking into you with an intensity you had never felt before. His hands are gripping at your thighs and fuck he can’t decide what to look at - The way your tits are moving in time with his strokes, the blissed out look on your face, or the way he keeps sinking in and out of you.

Your thighs are already starting to shake, body on the edge of a much needed orgasm. “Want you to come in me, Steve.” A low, guttural sound rips out of Steve’s chest, his movements getting sharper. “Wanna feel you dripping out of me.” Another thing you’re not quite sure where it came from tonight, but he seems to be pulling a lot of unexpected things out of you.

“Fuck, yeah? Okay, shit, I can do that.”

You reach down between your bodies, toying with your clit while staring up at him. Even like this, forehead damp with sweat and his cheeks flushed, you can’t help but admire how pretty he looks. Oddly enough? Steve must be thinking the same thing because he pulls out of your admiring trance with a -

“So beautiful.”

Heat erupts in your chest.

You have to look away from him, content on staring at the wall until there’s a hand on your cheek, nudging you back to looking at him. “Wanna watch you... Can you do that for me? Let me see how pretty you look when you come and I’ll fill you up for being good to me.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Steve’s picking up his pace, noise level be damned. Fucking into with a fevered passion that you had never felt. You’re clawing at his chest with one hand, the other one still working at your clit, and fighting every instinct to close your eyes. There’s a part of you that fears he would pull out if you look away and it would fully break you if that happened.

“Can feel you’re close... Wanna feel you let go for me, Baby.” Both of your hands are grabbing at Steve now, arching your chest up towards him and it only takes one more deep stroke before the tension in your body snaps. Your orgasm rushing through every inch of you. He’s watching you fall apart, fully amazed at the sight.

He’s still fucking into your oversensitive pussy, the feeling making you cry out. There’s a death grip on your thighs as Steve chases his own thigh, taking just a few more strokes when you can feel him still his hips all of a sudden. Taking mere seconds before he’s unloading deep inside of you. God you feel so messy now. The mixture of you both is dripping out around his cock, both of you trying to recover. He’s carefully sitting your legs back on the bed, leaning forward while you stay connected to lazily kiss you.

Your hands tangle in his hair, his arms find their way behind your back. Neither of you care that you’re both a sweaty, sticky mess. In fact, you’re wrapped up so tightly against Steve’s chest that you’re half convinced the two of you are going to be permanently stuck together.

The two of you lay like that for a moment until the sound of your giggle breaks the silence. Steve’s pulling back, looking at you with a cocked brow. You’re reaching up to push the hair from his forehead, giving a small shrug. “Just can’t believe that happened... Can’t believe you’re still inside of me, can’t believe we just fucked in the Wheeler’s guest room, can’t believe it was the best sex I’ve ever had. Always thought you were all talk, Harrington.”

He’s scoffing now, leaning into your touch as your hands rest on his cheeks. “Trust me, that was equally as insane for me. Can’t believe you tricked me into coming in you.” You gasp at his words, pulling your hands from his face to playfully shove at his chest. “Excuse me! Certainly didn’t hear you complaining.”

Steve’s grinning down at you, slowly pulling his hips back from your which has you both groaning at the loss of the other. He’s kneeling back on the bed, holding your thighs apart and admiring just how pretty you look all fucked out. Only allowing himself to look for just a moment before he’s on a mission to get you guys cleaned up and back to bed.

You both end up stumbling down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible and praying no one catches you. There’s no way to explain what’s happening without looking guilty.

To both of your surprise Ted Wheeler does have condoms. They may have expired in 1972, but he does have them.

✧･ﾟ:**:･ﾟ✧

Robin’s propped up on the back of the counter, kicking her feet through the air as everyone stumbles their way through the kitchen to get their breakfast. “Hey there... Sleep well?” She says with a smirk. No way she knows, right? You start to panic a little, wondering if there is a stray hickey on display or if it just shows on your faces that ‘Hey! Steve came in me last night!’.

Were you limping that noticeably? The ache deep in your hips a reminder of what Steve did to you last night.

The counter turns left and comes out to separate the kitchen from the dining room. You walk over, hopping up on the part of the counter she’s not on, giving her the most normal smile you can muster. “Yeah, nothing crazy.”

Steve’s walking around the counter with two glasses of juice, handing you one with this sheepish smile that certainly doesn’t help your deniability.

Almost worse than the juice?

The way he steps between your legs, turning his back to you and resting his elbows on your knees while facing the rest of the kitchen. Your face feels so hot as he settles in between you, everyone stealing a side eye glance. You swear you can hear Dustin mutter something along the lines of “Holy shit, finally.”

Robin’s got this loud bubble of entertained laugher,

“Nothing crazy, huh?”

#s.h. ♡#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader

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galexystern · 4 months

Text

all's fair in love and chicken

pairing; eddie munson/reader

rating; T

warnings; lots of fluff, a tiny bit of angst, love confessions, pining, getting together

word count; 2.1k

desc; robin and steve dare you and eddie to a game of girls vs. boys chicken. eddie has something up his sleeve that changes everything.

masterlist

The first thing you see after stepping inside the Harrington mansion is Robin looking guilty as sin. It makes you uneasy, and you immediately want to walk over and demand what the fuck that expression is for, but it’s the annual pool party bash and you’re carrying the first bottles of booze its seen and Steve is already ushering you to the backyard so you can set them down on the makeshift bar.

“Thank god you’re here,” he mutters under his breath. “People have been clamoring for drinks for half an hour.”

“Only like a fourth of them can legally drink,” you point out. When you reach the table, he helps you unload and set up so guests can pour their own concoction.

“And they’re bossy as fuck.”

You laugh, half-forgetting Robin’s mysterious guilt, and arrange the liquor just so. Steve excuses himself and runs into the house to get ice, and another boy almost instantly takes his place.

“Hey, princess,” Eddie says, surprising you and making you knock a bottle of vodka over. He deftly catches it and stands it upright.

You turn to him with a look. He’s grinning devilishly, loving that he spooked you. You’re notoriously easy to startle, and despite the fact that you’re secretly in love with him and have been for two years, the trick got old a long time ago. You hold back the smile threatening to bloom and narrow your eyes in annoyance. Eddie’s eyes get wider in response, doe-like, and his mouth turns down into the cutest pout. After a few seconds, you sigh and finally grin, forgiving him quickly. It’s a tried-and-true routine you two have done since you became friends.

“Hi, Eds,” you reply, hoping your lovesickness doesn’t ooze too obviously. You always think you sound so gooey, but he’s never picked up on it. This time is no different.

“Get you a drink?”

“Yes, please. Our usual.”

“One Munson Special coming up.”

You chuckle and take a few steps away to claim a free beach chair. You set your bag down and shuck off your clothes, stuffing them away. You test your bare feet on the concrete, but it’s too hot, so you keep your flip-flops on for now.

“Here you go–”

You spin around in concern as the end of Eddie’s sentence turns into a choked sound. You find him staring at you with huge eyes and a slightly open mouth. You move closer to him. “Are you okay?” You ask worriedly.

He blinks and then nods jerkily, practically throwing your cup at you. You avoid the liquid that splashes over the edge and take it carefully. You’re still looking at Eddie, unsure what could be wrong, but he just swallows and smiles reassuringly. “Something in my throat,” he explains, and you exhale in relief.

“Good. You can’t choke here otherwise Steve will be the one doing CPR.”

He barks out a laugh. “I’d sooner die.”

Your mouth twists, wanting to smile but holding back somewhat. “Be nice,” you chide half-heartedly. “He’s our friend now.”

He makes a disgruntled face. “I guess.” You look at him with petulant sternness and his expression softens. “I’ll try. Only for you, princess.”

Your heart flutters and you take a gulp of your drink to hide your quick breaths. He can’t just say things like that. He takes a sip as well, and you two settle into a comfortable silence. You take a look around the party, watching as the kids splash around and play Marco Polo in the pool, and eyeing as Steve and Robin bicker while she throws obvious longing glances at Vickie, who is sitting with her feet in the water and both pretending not to notice and trying not to blush. Nancy and Jonathan are sitting in the hot tub, having what seems to be a lively discussion with Jeff, Grant, and Gareth. Hopper, Joyce, and the rest of the adults are at the back, manning the grill and pointedly avoiding the shenanigans everyone else is getting into.

You turn back to Eddie to find him looking at you. Your head rears back a little, not expecting his gaze, and he quickly averts his eyes and takes a drink. A light blush spreads across his cheeks and towards his ears. You want to pull his hair away from his face to see if the tips are red as well, but keep your hands to yourself.

You’re admiring how tan he’s looking, the deep tone of his skin gleaming golden, when Robin shouts your name from across the patio. Both you and Eddie turn towards her; she’s speed-walking over with an annoyed Steve in tow. “Dingus here thinks we can’t beat him and Eddie in chicken,” she says when she arrives.

You blink. “What?”

“The game chicken, where two people fight while on the shoulders of other people?”

“Okay,” you reply slowly.

“Steve thinks boys would ‘obviously’ win over girls.” You raise your eyebrows at him and he shrugs, shy now that his and Robin’s argument has involved more than just them. Robin continues, “‘Obviously’ he’s wrong. But he won’t accept it until you and Eddie actually join us for a round.”

You glance at Eddie, who shoots you a grin. “I’m down if you are, princess,” he says cheekily.

At his smug tone, your competitive spirit comes alive. You look at Robin and nod. “Let’s wipe the floor with them.”

She whoops and drags you both to the pool. She and Steve slide in and stand at the edge so you and Eddie can sit on their shoulders. There’s a lump in your throat when you swallow; you didn’t think it’d be you two on top and fighting so close. But you can’t back out now, so you just focus on balancing as Robin walks further in.

She turns and there Eddie is, smiling mischievously, surprisingly stable atop Steve. His eyes sparkle in the sun and his tattoos stand out like they’re three-dimensional. You lock stares, and he runs a finger across his neck in a threat. Your eyes narrow as you mouth, You’re going down.

“Alright, are we ready?” Steve asks, sickly sweet. It’s purely for Robin’s sake, and she immediately replies, “Go!”

You lunge forward and grab Eddie’s biceps, his hands clamping onto yours. You grapple, pushing and pulling in any effort to destabilize the other, Robin and Steve compensating for your movements below. It’s a tough battle, but at some point, you’re leaning all the way into Eddie’s space and he’s precariously teetering backwards. You feel a triumphant smile start to form when he does the unexpected.

He kisses you.

It’s a soft, short peck, but it shocks you so much that you fall back, all the way off Robin’s shoulders and into the water. Once you’re submerged, it’s like time slows down, and you try to comprehend that Eddie just kissed you.

Eddie kissed you.

All to win this stupid game.

“That was definitely cheating!” Robin is yelling when you surface, inhaling oxygen desperately and pushing your hair out of your face.

“It was not!” Steve shouts back. “All’s fair!”

The two continue to argue, and you look at Eddie. He’s mysteriously quiet but half-grinning, and your fury grows. You stalk away–as much as you can while underwater–and pull yourself out of the pool. You detour to your chair to grab your towel, and then you’re racing inside, up the stairs to Steve’s guest room, where you’ve stayed a couple times after late nights. You slam the door shut behind you and sit on the bed, not caring if you’re dripping on the duvet.

You’re shaken and upset, and you can’t believe Eddie would do something like that to win a game of chicken. If you didn’t like him romantically, it would be misleading and give the wrong idea, and Robin was right–it is cheating.

A knock comes on the door, and it slowly swings open to reveal the man himself. “Princess? Are you okay?” You just glare at him in response, and he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “What’s wrong? Did you inhale water?”

If you weren’t so upset, you’d be touched by his concern. “You’re a fucking asshole,” you seethe. “I can’t believe you would do that just to win. That’s such gross bro behavior.”

He’s wide-eyed. “What? No, I’d never do that.”

“You just did!”

“No!” He runs a hand over his face. “That’s not why I did it.”

“Then why?” You grit out.

“Well, Robin told me that you liked me–”

You suddenly remember Robin’s face from the beginning of the party and understand. She’d blabbed to Eddie that you were in love with him and felt guilty for doing so. Well, she fucking should.

“That’s worse!” Your face burns in embarrassment and anger. “You used my feelings against me to win instead. Real nice.”

“Will you listen to me?” Eddie pleads. “I didn’t believe her, you’re way out of my league, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And when we were playing, you were so close and you smelled so good and your lips looked so nice, I couldn’t help myself and kissed you.” His entire face is tomato red. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you lose. I wasn’t even thinking about the game, just you.”

“I don’t understand. Are you saying you like me now?”

“Now? I’ve been in love with you for two years, princess. I just didn’t think you’d like me back.”

You stare at him. “What?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I can leave.”

But before he can turn away, you’re leaping forward and pulling him into a heated kiss. He’s surprised by it, stiff and still, and you think wildly that you’ve finally gotten him back for scaring you all those times. Eventually, his brain catches up and he melts, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. His lips are soft and warm, and it’s leagues better than the kiss in the pool, and you don’t want to stop but you’ve gotta breathe at some point. You two break apart panting, gazing at each other for a minute until you both burst into laughter. Your foreheads meet as you shake with it, and when the giggles fade away you’re still resting against each other.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell him fondly, and he chuckles. “I’ve been in love with you for two years too. I thought I was so obvious about it.”

“No, you’re right. I’m just an idiot,” he replies, making you snort. “But I could tell after Robin told me.”

“That doesn’t count! If she hadn’t, you still wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You’re about to argue some more when he captures your mouth again, and you sink into the kiss. You run your hands through his hair, pulling inadvertently, and he moans a little. You pull away with a smile, hands poised to do it again, but he holds them still.

“Don’t give me a boner at a pool party,” he begs. “I’d never live it down.”

You laugh. “Alright. Only for you, Eds.”

He smiles softly. “I love you, princess.”

“I love you too,” you reply with heart eyes at full power.

He steps back. “We really gotta go back now, or I will have a boner for the rest of the night.”

You shake your head with a grin and take his outstretched hand. You two walk downstairs and out to the backyard, where the festivities are in full swing. Steve and Robin are near the doors, still bickering. When she spots you, she gasps your name.

“Are you okay?” She asks worriedly.

You nod. “I’m fine. But we will be talking later.” She blushes and that guilty expression returns. But then she sees your hand intertwined with Eddie’s and it retreats somewhat. She smiles triumphantly, and you can already tell your stern talking-to will go in one ear and out the other. “And,” you continue, “I want a rematch.”

“Let’s do it!” Eddie shouts and pulls you towards the pool. He pushes you in, but you hold tight to his hand and drag him under with you. Once Steve and Robin have joined, you maneuver yourselves on their shoulders. You and Eddie make playful threatening motions, you wrestle heatedly, and then there’s cheering from you and Robin as the boys topple backwards into the water. They surface, spluttering from the impact, and Eddie immediately goes after you. You screech with laughter as you weakly attempt to run from him, and he catches you around the waist and lifts you above the water. You squeal with the movement, and after lowering you, he kisses you. You beam with love in the summer sun.

#eddie munson x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you

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hawkinsuniversity · 2 years

Text

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

word count : 2.4k

pairing : steve harrington x reader x eddie munson

warnings : 18+ heavy smut, dark!steve, soft!eddie, crybaby!reader, predatory kink, oral (male and female receiving), face slapping, size kink, dirty talk, praise, degradation, threesome, spanking, swearing, daddy kink, dumbification, bimbofication, breeding kink (steve), and kinda exhibitionism at the end

minors please dni (do not interact!), due to 18+ content.

part two

•••

steve harrington could have sworn your skirts were getting shorter and shorter as the days went on.

and eddie munson agreed.

the two boys watched closely as you pranced around the henderson house in nothing but a lacy bralette and the shortest pink skirt either of them had ever seen.

"do you think she's doing it on purpose?" eddie leaned over and whispered to steve as the two of them watched you reach for a glass that had inconveniently been placed on one of the top shelves.

"of course she's doing it on purpose!" steve scoffed. "no way this whole show she's putting on is accidental." he remarked while leaning down slightly to get a clear view of your gorgeous pink panties.

as you turned around you began to make your way back into the living room where the two teenagers were sitting with your younger brother and all of their friends.

"here." you mumbled quietly while handing dustin the large glass of orange juice that he had requested a few minutes prior.

"thanks y/n!" he exclaimed while beaming up at you with a toothy grin.

"yea of course." you responded while smiling at the small group of friends before swiftly making your way towards the upstairs staircase.

to tell the truth you did enjoy all of the attention you were getting from the two older boys in dustin’s friend group. it made you feel somewhat special.

the first time they had ever come over you weren't aware of your brothers unexpected guests. so when you walked downstairs in nothing but a towel what else could they do but gawk?

ever since that day you had made it your absolute goal to have them fawning over you every time they came over.

you weren't quite sure what you were trying to accomplish with this little performance of yours .. but you did know that it was fun to play with their emotions.

•••

"hey henderson? i really gotta use the bathroom. can i go upstairs?" steve asked dustin.

"mhm hmm" dustin replied sheepishly as he tried to focus on the map he had been studying for the past thirty minutes.

steve stood up from the couch and slowly made his way towards the staircase before he felt a warm hand that had been covered in metal rings grab onto his wrist.

"where do you think you're going?" eddie interrogated.

“…the bathroom?" steve responded questionably.

"cut the crap harrington. i know you're only going up there to see y/n." eddie scolded.

"so what if i am?" steve viciously spat back.”you're telling me that if you had the opportunity to sleep with y/n you wouldn't take it?”

"i-i-well." eddie stuttered.

"exactly." the harrington boy responded bluntly before starting to make his way up the carpeted staircase.

suddenly he turned around once more to face eddie and snapped. "well are you coming or not?" the harsh tone in his voice revealing his sexual frustration.

eddie’s eyes widened in shock despite hurriedly following steve up the narrow passageway and rushing towards your bedroom door.

suddenly both teenagers abruptly burst through the barricade that had previously separated the two of them from you.

before you had the chance to react steve slowly began to stalk towards your place on the bed while you stared up at him in utter disbelief.

“well..well..well” the boy began.

something had changed in steve’s demeanour. his tone had changed. his body language had changed.

“no where to run now.”

a predatory look had settled on his face and his eyes had become much darker than before.

eddie had noticed this change too. he noticed how you had almost shrunken in your seat on the bed and how tears had begun to slightly well in your beautiful eyes.

“you think that parading around in these skimpy little outfits would grab our attention?” steve continued.

your lip quivered slightly as he drew his palm to your face and gently tugged at your lip with his thumb.

“such gorgeous lips... i’ll almost feel bad forcing my cock through them..” he trailed off.

you whimpered at his harsh words as a warm tear slowly rolled down your cheek.

“aww baby there’s no need to cry.” eddie spoke up sympathetically.

“don’t praise her ed. she doesn’t deserve it. knew exactly what she was doing.” steve demanded as his hands flew to his jeans to hurriedly undo his belt.

“i-i didn’t mean too..” you started quietly, trying to find the words to explain how you felt when suddenly you felt a harsh sting on your right cheek.

“don’t fucking lie to us.” steve growled as you realized he had backhanded you across the face.

a warmth had began to form in your lace panties and your face had flushed pink with arousal and embarrassment.

eddie made his way over to the bed and started to softly stroke the back of your hair with his ring clad hands.

“it’s gonna be okay sweetheart. stevie and i just need a little help. is that okay?”

you melted into eddie’s warm body as he held you tightly to his chest.

“mhm hmh” you approved.

“good girl. now why don’t you get down on your knees and open up that pretty little mouth of yours?”

you nodded into eddie’s chest and slowly climbed off the bed and onto the floor.

“see steve? don’t need to be rough with her. our perfect girl.” he praised you sweetly.

“yea well she’s never gonna learn her lesson otherwise munson.” steve grunted in response before his large cock sprung forth from his restraining calvin klein boxers.

you gawked at the size of his erection as he lowly chuckled to himself while yanking on your hair so that your mouth was angled upwards.

“open up brat.” he demanded.

your quivering lips slowly parted for him and without warning he instantly rammed himself down your throat.

you gagged at the sudden force and your vision quickly became blurry with more tears.

“aww poor pathetic baby.. can barely take all of me in her little mouth huh?” steve mocked while pumping himself in and out off your soft lips.

eddie sat on the bed watching in complete awe. you looked so perfectly helpless and fucked out. his cock hardened at the sight of you and instantly wished it was him on the receiving end.

steve glanced up and immediately noticed the desperation that had set in the boys eyes.

gently yanking your hair he brought your head back to unattach itself from his girth. your lips popped together as you stared up at him in wonder and submission.

“hey munson, why don’t you come over here and give it a try.” steve encouraged.

eddie eagerly jumped up from his place on the bed and began to quickly unzip his fly and rip his pants off as his sexual frustration grew more and more.

just then his enormous erection sprang out from his restricting boxers and immediately was taken between your warm lips.

eddie groaned out in pleasure as steve watched in approval.

“looks like our dumb baby is finally learning who’s in charge.” he prasied while stroking his own cock. “such a perfect slut for us.”

you moaned into eddie’s shaft while licking a firm strip up the large protruding vein on the back of his dick.

tears continued to stream down your face as you choked on the munson boy’s boner and mangled moans escaped from the back of your throat. neither steve or eddie were sure how much more of this they could take. you looked like an absolute wreak. the fresh coat of mascara you had applied earlier was now smudged, your hair was tangled in both their fingers while drool, precum, and tears dripped down your chin and onto your hot pink bralette.

steve moaned loudly, pumping even faster as hot white liquid erupted from his cock and painted itself across your face and chest.

this sent eddie over the edge and a warm liquid coated your tongue as you eagerly swallowed every last salty drop.

“holy fuck!” eddie exclaimed.

you gazed up in expectance at the two boys who were now peering down at you through glassy eyes.

“you did so well angel.” steve praised while picking you up gently and laying you on the bed.

“do you think you deserve a reward honey?” he questioned sincerely.

you whimpered into your little pink pillow while nodding apologetically at him.

“aww okay honey, come here.” steve coaxed while positioning his body behind you to support your back.

eddie laid himself down between your legs and carefully pulled your lace panties down your legs and hung them on the post of your bed triumphantly.

the boys mischievously exchanged glances before steve’s fingers immediately plunged into your soaking wet pussy and eddies tongue quickly found its way to your sensitve bud.

the pleasure was almost instantly overwhelming and your body promptly jolted forward before steve’s right arm hooked itself around your waist so you couldn’t struggle too much.

eddie chuckled into your heat as his cool metal rings began to trace shapes through the arousal that was oozing between your thighs.

the sudden change in temperature intensified the pleasure even more and you found yourself almost immediately moaning into steve’s tanned chest.

“d-da-daddy” you panted while the boy stared down at you in admiration.

suddenly the attention that your needy pussy had previously been reciving was almost instantly lost.

you whined out in frustration while violently thrashing your legs around eddie’s head before he managed to grab a hold of your ankles and pin you down.

“what the fuck did you just say.” steve growled darkly into your ear.

“d-daddy!” you cried out pathetically.

eddie chuckled into your inner thigh. “aww baby…you shouldn’t have said that.” he groaned while jumping up from his place on the bed and standing over your naked body.

steve chuckled to himself before thrashing your body forward and positioning you over his knee.

your bare ass was on display for the two teenager boys and they couldn’t have been more pleased.

suddenly a harsh slap echoed throughout the room as a sharp sting was placed harshly on your left ass cheek.

“you wanna be a greedy little bitch…” steve growled into your ear. “.. then you’ll be treated like a greedy little bitch.”

you whimpered up at eddie but he only pouted at you mockingly.

“brought this on yourself princess.” he confessed.

you cried out as three more spanks were laid across your behind.

“are you gonna be a good girl for your daddies?” steve questioned angrily.

*smack

another one.

“or are you gonna be a needy slut that we only use for our pleasure.” he finished.

you cried out, completely unable to speak properly.

three more torturous smacks were laid across your ass.

“answer him!” eddie growled.

“i-i’ll-i’ll be a -a good girl for my daddies!” you whimpered out in agony.

“good.” steve and eddie both affirmed at the same time.

steve then gently scooped you into his arms and placed you back on the bed on your hands and knees.

climbing onto the bed he used his left hand to position his cock infront of your soaked enterance while his other hand gently traced over the red markings that he had made on your ass.

eddie stalked towards the bed before moving your head towards him so that it was just inches away from his restored erection.

suddenly you felt steve slam balls deep into your aching pussy and immediately wailed out in an overwhelming sensation pain and pleasure.

eddie took this as an invitation to shove his throbbing length through your lips and down your throat.

you choked around eddie’s girth and gasped desperately for air as you felt the two cocks absolutely stuff your holes.

“tsk tsk tsk” steve scolded before roughly using his leather belt to leave a harsh spank on your behind. “take it slow baby.. focus on the pleasure.”

you groaned out against eddie once more before carefully pumping your head up and down his length.

“our sweet girl..” eddie prasied causing your cheeks to blush softly.

slowly the pain that was previously overwhelming your sensitive pussy grew into pleasure and you felt yourself gasping out as you tried to reach your release point as fast as possible.

steve and eddie chuckled as you pathetically and needily swallowed their cocks.

“i-i need to - c - cum” you choked out around eddie’s erection.

“aww okay sweetheart… but only on one condition..” steve started.

“wha-“ you barely managed between breaths.

“you let me cum in you and breed this pretty pussy.” he coaxed gently.

“steve no!” you cried out. “i-i can’t get fucking pregnant!”

a sharp and painful sting formed on the left side of your ass. the fucker had bit you.

“watch your fucking mouth!” steve scolded. “now do you wanna cum or not? cause trust me when i say munson and i are more than happy to edge you all night.”

you cried out at his harsh words and felt eddie’s cock begin to twitch in your mouth.

“ah- no daddy please let me cum!” you screamed.

steve spanked your ass once again. “beg for it slut.” he spat.

“p - please please breed me daddy! i want your babies so much!! just please please let me cum daddy!! i swear i’ll be such a good girl for both of you!” you begged out pathetically.

“awww good.” steve approved. “our perfect little whore. go ahead baby you can cum.”

you immediately felt the coil that had been building up in your stomach snap as you and eddie reached your climax together and he began shooting his warm load down your throat.

your body lost itself in pleasure and you quickly felt your head become foggy and clouded.

steve’s orgasm followed soon after both yours and eddie’s. with a deep guttural groan his hot seed shot out from his cock and coated the interior of your pussy creating a warm, comforting feeling.

the room suddenly became silent. the three of you struggled to catch your breath while you begin register what had happened.

“wow.” steve broke the silence.

“wow.” eddie responded.

thats when the two boys looked down at you in concern and immediately began worriedly asking you a million questions about how you were feeling and what you needed.

“was i too mean to you baby? i’m so sorry angel..” steve coaxed while rubbing lotion on your swollen ass while eddie peppered kisses across your face.

in that moment you felt so much love and adoration from the two boys that it was perfect.

almost.

because before you knew your bedroom door swung open revealing your brother and the rest of his friends.

their eyes were wide with shock and mouths hung open in terror.

“what- the- fuck-!”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut #steve harrington x reader x eddie munson #steve x reader x eddie #steddie #steddie smut #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #stranger things steddie #daddy steve harrington #daddy eddie munson #eddie munson daddy smut #steve harrington daddy smut #stranger things smut one shot #steddie stranger things

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bettyfrommars · 10 months

Text

Touch my cheek before you leave me, baby//Part 3

(part 1)(part 2)

gigolo!Eddie x fem!Reader

18+Only, mature content, intimacy smut, fingering, sweet!Eddie, gigolo!Steve, semi-public fingering, toxic mother, tooth-rotting sweetness, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, cum shot, alcohol consumption, self-deprecation, struggles with body image, reader wears a formal dress and heels, pet names, tiny drop of angst. Eddie is around 30 and reader is 29. wc: 5.8k

Summary: the gigolo who was paid to take your virginity now has his sights set on your heart, and you're ready to give it. A chapter of shenanigans, flirting, 90's wedding music (Eddie's got a crush and he's got it bad), ripped nylons, and coming into our own. Guest appearance by gigolo!Steve.

pls no minors beyond this point

You already hated everything about the flouncy, taffeta dress your mother picked out for you to wear, but you were emotionally too exhausted to fight her anymore. Especially for an event you were already dreading. Your shoulders bunched up at your ears at the thought of everyone there asking you what you were doing with your life, and when you planned to get married. You wondered if Eddie could hold his own with all of the self-proclaimed “well-meaning” hyenas in your family.

You stood in the full length mirror upstairs in your childhood bedroom, wondering if Eddie would like the way you looked. You closed your eyes to silently berate yourself for how you had behaved the night before. The way you’d just bolted out of his place like he had done something wrong. You actually waited all day for the phone to ring, so sure it would be him, letting you know he had to cancel—but the call never came. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t show up to the venue, but if he did, you promised yourself that you would let yourself enjoy his company and not let your insecurities get the better of you for once in your life.

“Shit,” you cursed aloud, hoping no one mingling in the hall heard you, remembering you forgot to tell Eddie that he needed to be a mechanic when he met your mother. A mechanic who owns his own shop nonetheless. God, why did you do this to yourself.

Downstairs, you could hear the voices of your mom, your aunt, and your sister as they waited to make their way over to the winery where the wedding and reception would be taking place. Your mom gasped when she saw you, but it wasn’t a good gasp; it was a horrified one. She had you turn in a circle in front of everyone, announcing that she wished it covered your shoulders and asked why you looked so bloated—she told you to lay off the dairy for a week. Your sister said you looked pretty, but it fell on damaged ears.

“When is your date getting here?” your mother asked as you were all gathering your things to leave.

“He’s meeting me at the venue,” you mumbled, grabbing your bag.

Everyone looked at you as if you’d just said you were moving to Mars. Your aunt was the one who spoke up, eyeballing your mother. “Why isn’t he picking you up?”

You stammered. “He, um, well, he had to work and I wasn’t sure when we—”

Your sister, dressed in a tiny Kate Moss number, threw open the front door to take a step and stopped in her tracks. “Hey, who the hell is that?”

You pushed past your mom to squeeze into the doorway next to her, confused, thinking maybe it was someone pulling up to the wrong house.

Leaning back against the passenger side of a classic Pontiac Firebird with a pair of aviator sunglasses on looking fine as hell in his all black suit and shirt, with his hands in his pockets, was Eddie.

—---

“I’m not asking for your advice, Steve, I’m just telling you how it is,” Eddie stirred the cream and sugar into his coffee and then sucked the spoon before setting it on the nearby napkin. “I like her.”

Steve Harrington shifted in the red vinyl booth they were in at Maude’s Diner, and held up the large, laminated menu to look at the breakfast specials, a toothpick rolling between his lips, his wayfarer sunglasses on his head.

“She’s different,” Eddie continued. “I can tell she doesn’t realize how attractive she is. I just want to hold her, I can’t explain it.”

Steve’s face was hidden behind the menu, tongue moving the toothpick, concentrating as he spoke. “I understand, man.”

“Wait,” Eddie hovered his brown coffee cup half way to his mouth. “You do? I figured you’d tell me I was losing my shit.”

“Well, you are,” Steve put the menu flat on the table with an air whoosh that flew the ends of Eddie’s hair back over his denim battle vest. “I mean, when the pussy is good, it can fuck any guy up. Hell, I’ve been there. Remember that chick who paid me to go with her for a week to the Florida Keys a few months ago? Damn, I thought she was the one, you know?”

Eddie finally took that sip of his coffee, licking his lips as he sat the cup back down, making a tent with his hand to twirl it in thoughtful circles on the Formica table.

Steve continued. “I still think about her. But she has a serious boyfriend now and all that,” he took his toothpick out and pointed at him with it. “No girl wants to commit to guys in our profession.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie was biting the side of his fingernail off as he spoke, concentrating. “But I don’t plan to do this forever. As soon as I get Wayne out of the hole with his medical bills—”

“Aren’t you two handsome boys a sight for sore eyes?” It was Donna, their favorite waitress. Her graying, dishwater blonde hair up in a bun and the red and white Maude’s apron tied in a bow at her back. She hovered her pen over the order pad. “What’ll it be? Lou is in the kitchen, he makes a mean steak and eggs.”

The boys gave her their orders, sprinkled with plenty of that sweet, gigolo charm, and Donna walked away with a spring in each step of her orthopedic shoes.

“Yeah but,” Steve continued after a sip of his orange juice and a smack of his lips. “Why would you want to give this gig up so soon? Plenty of bitches in the sea, man.”

Eddie squinted across the table at him, fingers drumming the table. He didn’t sound like Steve anymore, he sounded more like Billy, another one of their friends who dabbled in the trade.

“You know, you never used to be like this,” Eddie told him, sitting back flush against the squeaky vinyl. There was an ashtray over by the salt n’ pepper shakers and he pulled it closer, tossing his pack of cigs next to it.

“Like what?” Steve blanched. “A guy who likes money and pussy?”

“No,” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, slotting his hands in his armpits. “A guy who is so afraid of connection that he does everything he can to avoid it.”

Steve looked over his shoulder, as if to check to see if the food was coming, to avoid Eddie’s eyes. “Yeah, well, people change.”

The steaming hot plates of food came a couple minutes later, and the boys dug in for a few thoughtful bites in silence, forks and knives slicing and shoveling. A different waitress refilled Eddie’s coffee and he said, “thank you darlin’” as if he were a country western star.

Steve wiped his mouth with his napkin while Earth Angel by The Penguins played softly from the jukebox, a gray haze settling in the atmosphere from all of the other patrons who were smoking cigarettes around them. Outside on the street, a group of bikers on chrome beasts roared by.

“You’re lucky I was busy, or maybe Robin would have referred your girl to me that night,” Steve said around a mouthful of food.

For some reason, that comment set Eddie’s teeth on edge. “Oh I think Robin knew exactly what she was doing when she referred her to me and not you. But keep dreaming, playboy.”

There was a tension in the air as Eddie lit a smoke, and Steve had time to regret his snide remark. “So, are you going to tell her how you feel when you see her tonight, or what?”

Eddie set the cig in the ashtray to smolder while he took another bite of food, chewing as he considered the question. “I invited her to the house last night, asked her to stay, but she ran off so fast, I’m worried I scared her,” he took another drag and then tapped the ash, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth. “But the sex dude, it’s just…mind blowing. I haven’t had this kind of chemistry with someone in years, and I convinced myself she felt it too.”

“You gotta give the girl a break, man,” Steve offered, scratching his chest through his white tee and then combing his fingers through his hair a few times. “She doesn’t know you’re for real, she probably thinks it’s all part of the act. I bet she thinks you’re gonna send her a bill for the whole weekend or something.” Steve chuckled to himself but Eddie wasn’t laughing.

“I told her I never go down on clients, I told her it was special, but I don’t know, she didn’t seem to believe me.”

“Gigolos are notoriously good liars, man. We have to be,” Steve perched his forearms on the table. “I mean, I’ve lost count of how many clients I’ve said ‘I love you’ too just because I knew that’s what they needed to hear.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock. “You tell clients you love them?”

“Well,” Steve fussed. “Sometimes I mean it, in the moment, you know?” His eyes went to the table as he wiped his hands off with the napkin. “Sometimes I need it as much as they do.”

Eddie considered Steve’s words as Donna came to remove their plates. “You should tell her,” Steve encouraged sincerely. “Tell her that you like her and want to take her on a real date, and that you don’t want her to pay you for the wedding thing. If she likes you too, hopefully she can wrap her head around the fact that your dick is in a different babe a couple times a month.”

Eddie had already been thinking about this, and so he worked his jaw with a solemn face. “What if she’s not interested in me in that way and I make her uncomfortable? It’s not very professional, and pretty creepy if you ask me.”

“It’s the risks we don’t take, man,” Steve shrugged. He moved his hands as he talked. “Feel it out, don’t just bombard her with it. See how the night goes. When the time is right, you’ll know. Otherwise, you’ll get paid a decent amount for a solid gig, and you had some great sex, so it wasn’t a total loss.”

All the same, Steve’s words were only partially comforting because there was only one way Eddie wanted the evening to go.

—-----

Eddie smiled when he saw you, taking his sunglasses off as he pushed off the Firebird. The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned a bit to show the guitar pick necklace he wore, and the suit was perfectly tailored to him, complete with a thin leather belt and silver buckle. You mirrored his cheesy grin, filled with a rush of relief and excitement that no words could express.

“Wait,” your sister balked, eyes darting from you to him. “Is that him? Is that your date?” As good of a person as your sister tried to be, she could not conceal her disbelief that someone like you could snag someone like Eddie.

You waved at him, bolting from the porch and down the steps, ignoring your mother’s voice as best you could as she called out to you. “Where are you going? I thought you were coming with us? Tell him to come up so we can meet him.”

But, you only shouted over your shoulder. “See you over there, mom!”

You trotted up to Eddie at the end of the sidewalk in your heels, almost tipping over, and he took your hand, his eyes sparkling as they darted over you. “Wow, you look —”

“Please,” you whispered urgently, squeezing his thumb. “Get me out of here as fast as you can, and we can talk on the way.”

“As you wish,” Eddie held the door open for you to slide in, scooping the frilly parts of your dress with you. The women were all on the porch staring, mouths agape, and he gave them an open palm. “Ladies. Looking very lovely today,” just as he slammed the metal door and jogged around to the driver’s side.

Eddie snapped his seatbelt across his lap. “You look so damn good, almost got me hard right in front of your family.”

You shrank down in your seat so they couldn’t see you through the window and giggled at his shrill tone. “Serves you right for showing up here when I said to meet me at the venue.”

Eddie revved the engine and pulled from the curb with speedy finesse, adjusting the lapel of his suit jacket. “Went in to visit Robin at the coffee shop earlier today,” he started. “Your friend Nellie was working and she mentioned you might need rescuing from your mother, so I took a shot.”

“What can I say,” you cleared your throat, eyes on the road. “You’re good at your job.”

You noticed he still wore his chunky silver rings with his suit and you appreciated the way he always stayed true to his style. It was hard for you to give compliments, only because you rarely received them, but you did your best. “You look really handsome. I’m happy to see you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie’s head turn to look at you, his voice low. “It makes me happy to hear that.”

You chatted about horror movies for a bit, because you were quite the aficionado, and then when the Firebird came to stop at a traffic light, Eddie stretched across, planting his elbow on the console to present his lips to you, making a smooch noise. “Kiss?”

He almost didn’t have to ask because your mouth was already on its way, eyelashes fluttering at the plump, warm welcome of their destination. The light turned green but Eddie was still hovering close, gaze flicking to different areas of your face.

“What?” You asked, slightly paranoid. “Is there something on my—?” You wiped your cheek and your mouth as if you expected to find a lipstick smudge or crumbs.

“You’re perfect,” he soothed. “I just like looking at you, that’s all.”

But then the person behind you honked, and Eddie hit the gas, but also threw a dirty look in the rearview to whoever it was who dared to interrupt such a moment.

You rubbed your lips together, relishing the taste of him, a wild fluttering in your heart.

—-------

“So, I’m a mechanic, and I run my own garage,” Eddie came around to your side to open your door in the winery parking lot, running down the list of things he needed to remember. “It’s actually not a far cry,” he assured you. “I’ve been working on cars since I was a kid.”

You kissed him again when you took his arm, pinning your clutch under your other arm. “I’d like to apologize in advance for my family,” you said glumly. “They’ll probably ask you a bunch of personal questions, and you have my permission to tell them it’s none of their business.”

“Nah,” Eddie nudged you. “I want them to like me.”

You could see the stucco building ahead with a big white gazebo set up in front of lines of white chairs in the garden next to a pond that glimmered in the early evening sun.

Eddie took the lead in more ways than one, and you were so grateful. You’d never felt so protected and sure of yourself in your entire life. He had this way of talking to people like he’d known them for ages, disarming them and charming them in a way that was unfamiliar to you. The usher sat Eddie on the aisle of the row you were in while your mother was next to you, and that was when you made the formal introductions.

Your mom thrust her arm across you to shake his hand. “It’s so rude of my daughter to not tell us more about you. How old are you? How much money does a mechanic make? How long have you two known each other?”

Your eyes glazed over as you wished to god the ceremony would just start already so she could stop talking, but Eddie handled it with such grace and ease. He even offered to switch seats with you so that he could talk to your mother more, mostly just to give you a break from her, and as you stood up to let him scoot into the middle, pulling him in for another kiss to let him know how much you appreciated it.

The wedding itself was lovely, your cousin cried and looked very much in love. Eddie squeezed your hand when he heard you sniffle, passing you a blue and white handkerchief from his back pocket. You had this passing thought that he didn’t have a single flaw, but then you remembered what he did for a living, and the realization that he wasn’t perfect comforted you.

You started drinking as soon as time would allow, clinking your wine glass against Eddie’s beer, taking a few generous swallows on the way to the dining room. Your mother sat across the round table from the two of you, so Eddie finally had a break from her, but now he had one of your aunts to deal with. She was already tipsy, though, so she just kept telling him that he would’ve been her type back when she was his age. Eddie pretended to be flattered, at least you thought he was pretending? The wedding colors were pink and lime green, and you moved the floral centerpiece a few inches to the right so your mother couldn’t stare at you.

By the time the main course was being served, you and Eddie could not keep your hands off of each other. He’d had his hand on your knee under the table the whole time, but as he got bolder, his fingers dipped in under your dress, dragging along your inner thigh, until his knuckle was moving at your slit. Your breath hitched and you squirmed, making him pull his hand away, but you caught his wrist to let him know not to stop.

Your nylons and underwear were creating a barrier that you desperately wanted to be rid of to give him full access. You spread your knees open as far as you could without touching your neighbor, inviting him deeper. Your panties were soaked by the time he pulled away to use both hands to cut his steak, and then he choked on his bite when your hand slipped under the curtain of the chartreuse tablecloth to palm his cock through his pants. He was hard, and it made your hole clench around nothing where you sat, staring across the room at where the bride and groom sat with their party, offering a tight, distant smile.

Normally, being so bold was not your style. But he was, indeed, yours for the night, wasn’t he? He’d signed off on this, and he’d been so damn good to you all night, your body ached for him. After the lights dimmed and the DJ called the bride and groom to the floor for the first dance, you stood up and took him by the elbow, urging him to join you for a slow dance to You Were Meant For Me by Jewel. His cloth napkin fell from his lap to the ground when he stood, and like a gentleman, he had to bend over to pick it up first and set it on his chair, excusing himself to the others.

“I was planning on saving my dancing energy for Slayer,” Eddie said, trapping you in his arms, flush to his chest, feet carrying you in a slow circle. Your cheek was at his shoulder, your nose inhaling the woodsy scent of his shampoo.

“We can start the mosh pit,” you assured, to which he tightened his arm around you. You planted a kiss on his throat above his collar and Eddie closed his eyes, remembering Steve’s advice and feeling like the opportunity was approaching.

Halfway through the song, there was a tap at your shoulder and Eddie stiffened.

“I thought that was you, Eddie,” a female voice cooed. “Fancy meeting you here.”

You turned to see a beautiful blonde woman with striking green eyes, pin straight hair down past her shoulders, and a serious rack pushed up in her slim, turquoise dress giving Eddie the hungriest eyes you’d ever seen. She was older, 40’s maybe, and your attention flicked from him to her, taking note of how uncomfortable he suddenly was, locking his palm to your lower back so you wouldn’t go anywhere.

With deep reluctance, Eddie introduced the two of you, and the woman winked, whispering, “I’m one of his clients, too.”

Your blood ran cold.

You had no idea who this woman was, possibly from the groom’s side of the family, but your mind raced to figure it out, the need to run screaming out of the building itching in your veins. Your worst fear had come true: someone knew your secret and you’d soon be outed as paying a gigolo to be your date.

“Wait,” Eddie snatched you close as you tried to walk away. He took your hand, nodding his head in your direction. “This is my, um, girlfriend.”

“Oh?” The woman was painfully shocked and confused. “Does this mean you’re no longer offering your...services? I was going to see if you were available to go to Chicago with me next month.”

Eddie leaned toward her, trying to whisper. “I’ll refer you to Steve or Billy, but later, okay? Not here.”

“Oh of course, of course,” she winked again, almost as if she had a tick. She squeezed your arm as she went by, her eyes on Eddie. “You’re a lucky girl. He’s the best.”

The Jewel song ended, replaced by Unbelievable by EMF and you freed yourself from Eddie’s grasp to bolt out of the main dining room, pushing through groups of people and dodging tables. Eddie was on your heels, jogging up just as you went around the corner, clutching your stomach.

“Hey,” he touched your arm, tilting his head to look in your eyes, his hair falling off his shoulder. “I’m really sorry…about that, and for the girlfriend thing. I just didn’t want her to think that—”

“That I’m paying you to be here with me?” Your words came out a bit louder than you’d meant them to and a couple walking into the party snapped their heads in your direction. “Why not, it’s the truth.”

“Come here,” he took your hand, pulling you behind him, checking around for a place you could talk privately. The restrooms were busy with people in and out, one door was locked, but the door at the other side of the reception area opened into a living room with a fireplace, a master bathroom, and a bunch of makeup, champagne, and clothes everywhere that you assumed belonged to the bride and her friends.

Eddie called out to make sure no one else was in there, and then he locked the door behind him. Your anxiety was through the roof, but you’d learned fairly recently that there was one thing that could cure it.

“Listen I—” Eddie closed in on you, wanting to explain, but you met him with a different type of urgency, clutching the front of his shirt and pulling his mouth to yours.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “That’s what I want right now.”

“But I want to make sure you—”

“Please, Eddie,” you whined, running your fingers along the outline of his cock. You were possessed, and Eddie didn’t mind it. He was caught off guard, sure, but he was quick to sit down on the couch and pull you with him, spinning you around so that you were in his lap, back flush to his chest, facing the unlit fireplace.

You scrambled to pull the taffeta of your dress up, pooling it up at your waist, and Eddie’s hand slid down to find the heat between your legs. You arched your head back and his lips tickled the shell of your ear. “Are you my eager girl?”

You whimpered, nodding, too impatient to properly take your nylons off, so you tugged at the material, slashing them open at the crease in your thigh with a few rips, exposing the tell-tale wet spot on your underwear, and Eddie’s hand dove right for it. Rolling your body, you turned your head to meet his kiss while the pads of his fingers unraveled you, pushing the material aside to groan at what he found there. You rode your ass up and down on his cock, feeling it grow beneath you.

He hissed a few dirty things in your ear, and you spun around to drop to your knees on the floor between his legs, working frantically at his belt and zipper to free his now throbbing length.

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie hissed, but then you yanked his boxers down, and your mouth found the soft underside of his tip, glistening already, and sucked it in, twirling your tongue. His head rolled on the back of the couch as you worked your hand and mouth down a few times, saliva running down your fingers and to his patch of hair at the base. You licked the tip and kissed it, and then wrapped your lips around it again.

Wannabe by Spice Girls could be heard on the other side of the building as all the girls on the dance floor screamed. Eddie’s cock popped out of your mouth when he pulled your head up to kiss you, urging your back flat to the floor, and then you were coaxing him on top, bending your knees up and spreading your legs wide, opening yourself for him.

Was this the moment? Eddie wondered, fingering your underwear to the side, sliding the tip of his length up and down your slit, while you bit your lip and bucked your hips, greedy for it.

“Hey, I need to say something,” he braced one hand by your shoulder, finding your eyes.

“Right now?” You breathed, your hole pulsing, nearly sucking him in.

“It’s important,” and he emphasized it by slapping your pussy with his thick cock, watching the way your face lit up at the impact. “I really like you.”

You swallowed hard, not prepared for such sincerity. “I like you, too,” you managed.

Eddie sat back on his heels, pinning your legs on either side of him, fingers spread out on your thighs, chocolate eyes flicking around your face. “I don’t want you to pay me for tonight. And I want to take you out again, after this. I want you to get to know me because this isn’t who I am.”

Something in his tone suggested that he anticipated a rejection, but you just frowned curiously. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that too.”

“Really?” Eddie balked, thrusting so that his tip tapped your entrance, making your mouth seize open.

“Yes, really,” you scooted your hips toward him. “Please fuck me now?”

Eddie fell forward, bracing his forearm by your head, tips of his hair grazing your cheek while his cock sank in, making you both curse. “Goddamn,” he gasped, tongue parting your lips, his entire body trembling. “To feel you with my skin is everything.”

He worked your clit with his thumb and after all the build up, it wasn't long before you were already on the verge.

“Babybabybaby…fuck,” you cried out, slamming your pelvis up to meet him.

“God I love the way you feel,” Eddie grunted, pausing for a second so he wouldn’t cum too fast, but then you were chanting his name, warm wet walls milking him as the orgasm rolled through you, and he was barely able to pull out in time. He sat back to work the exploding head with a few hand pumps, ropes of hot cum shooting onto the shredded material of your ripped nylons, shivering and moaning as he did so.

That was when the door on the other side of the room, the one you forgot to lock, flew open to the sound of women chattering. You’d heard the voices getting closer, but in the heat of the moment, hadn’t planned on there being a second entrance. You tilted your head back, chin up, to give an upside-down greeting to the horrified faces of the bride, her mother, and a couple of the bridesmaids. The Macarena song blared loud enough to shake the foundation of the building.

With his dick still fisted in one hand, Eddie waved with the other. “Hey, ladies, great party.”

—----

The two of you took off out of the building like a shot after you were discovered. Racing across the pavement on bare feet, your shoes in one hand, and Eddie’s hand in the other, his open belt flapping loose at his hip. His hair flying out behind him, as both of you did a poor job of containing the cries of amusement and squeals of unbridled joy.

Inside Eddie’s Firebird, you were both laughing so hard, there were tears rolling down your cheeks. Eddie had the radio on, and the song The Flame by Cheap Trick was playing.

“Do it again,” you snorted. “Make the face.”

And then, on cue, Eddie’s face contorted into the exact expression your aunt made when she walked in on the fornicating, his fists tight around the steering wheel. Your cousin, and her two bridesmaids had chuckled, averting their gaze. But your elderly aunt? You were sure she would never be the same, and probably tried to bleach her eyes out later.

“Oh god, that was so horrible,” you put your head back against the seat, your hands over your face, and then you slid them down to rest at your clavicle. “But also, the best thing that could’ve ever happened.” You never knew how good it would feel to rebel in that way. Of course, your aunt was probably explaining it all to your mother at that very moment, and the two would speculate on your “mental issues” for the rest of the evening. The beauty of it was, for the first time in your life, you really did not care. There was something about the way Eddie looked at you and treated you that made you feel like you weren’t as damaged as your family made you out to be. With Eddie at your side, you felt invincible; you felt free.

Eddie turned his head to the side to fix his gaze on you and put his hand out, palm up for you to take. Thoughtfully, you matched up your palm with his and intertwined your fingers. “You looked so beautiful tonight. I was really proud to be there with you.” He took a thoughtful pause and then: “So did you mean what you said earlier? Can I take you on a real date?”

Your cheeks exploded with heat, unable to maintain eye contact. “Eddie, I really do like you, but it’s just—-”

You moved your jaw from side to side, stare fixed on the other cars parked in the lot. “---I’m not sure how comfortable I’ll be knowing you’re sleeping with all of these other women.”

Eddie blew out a hard exhale, releasing your hand to fidget with a coin on the console. “Yeah, I was afraid of that. I don’t blame you, I’m not comfortable with it either.” He sat back to plant his hands at his knees. His suit jacket was off, and his black shirt was unbuttoned further down his chest. “I want you to know that I never planned on doing this forever. My uncle—uncle Wayne—his insurance is shit and he’s been paying out the nose for cancer treatments, so this is how I help him with that. The jobs I’m skilled to do out in the real world could never pay this well. Besides, it’s hard for me to be intimate with other people when I…when I have feelings for someone.”

You turned in your seat to look at him and brought your knee up, searching his profile. “What if you end up having feelings for one of your clients? I think that would always worry me.”

He turned in his seat to face you, honey brown eyes dark and earnest. “Listen, I understand your concern baby, but I’ve been doing this for almost 3 years now? I’ve never wanted someone the way I wanted you that first night.”

You let that sink in, your mind tripping over the “almost 3 years” part, trying to calculate how many sexual partners he’s had during that time. You reasoned that the sex worker profession was as old as time, and there were plenty of people out there who slept around a lot but didn’t get paid for it. As a single man, and as handsome as he was, Eddie could've easily had sex with just as many women, and would you hold it against him then?

“I don’t want to scare you off,” his jaw muscles tightened. “But I’ve been looking for a reason to get out of the gigolo trade, and I think I found it.”

“I’m going crazy

I’m losing sleep

I’m in too far

I’m in way too deep

Over you”

“What about this,” he reached out for your hand again. “What if we keep it casual and get to know each other as friends until I get a new job, find another way to make a living,” his gaze was on your held hands, his thumb caressing yours. “Would you wait for me?”

“I don’t know about that,” your words came out on an exhale. Eddie closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable rejection. “I don’t know if I could keep this casual, to be honest. I think I already like you too much.”

“You’ll always be the one

You were the first

You’ll be the last”

His eyes shot open, and a smile hitched up one side of his mouth. “Yeah, I don’t think I could, either.”

You chuckled softly, and then chewed a bit at your bottom lip. “This is very new territory for me, and I think we should take it one day at a time,” you reasoned. “I don’t want my boyfriend to be having sex with other women, but I also don’t want to lose you.”

“Your boyfriend?” Eddie grinned, teasing you with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

You playfully tried to free your hand from his grasp, but he only snatched you closer, catching your cheek with his other hand. He swept his thumb across your cheekbone and rubbed his nose along yours, barely skimming your lips with his. “What do you say? You wanna be my girl?”

You covered his hand with yours, a happy sob hitching in your throat. “With all my heart.”

------

A/N: This adorable story has been very soothing for me to write, and even though the "official" story is finished, I already have some plans for blurbs and maybe a one shot down the road. My ask box is always open if there are certain scenarios you'd like to read more about when it comes to these two sweethearts. I'd also LOVE to do a gigolo!Steve version, but do not have immediate plans for it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to those who cared enough about this story to comment and reblog! it really is a big deal to us, your fic writers ❤️

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I didn't have a taglist planned, but a few of you were really sweet about it so I hope you enjoy! @micheledawn1975 @emma77645 @battinsonwhore05 @magnificantmermaid @erinsingalong

#gigolo!Eddie #gigolo!steve #touch my cheek before you leave me baby #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson fanfiction #Stranger things fic #steve harrington #virgin!Reader #Eddie munson x reader #smut #intimacy smut #Spotify

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brbsoulnomming · 5 months

Text

WHERE NOBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME

For: @sharpbutsoft

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 14.9k

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, mention of alcohol and financial exploitation of child stars

Tags: Famous Steve Harrington, Bartender Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Snapshots

Summary: A drop dead gorgeous man walks into The Hideout one night while Eddie's bartending, and Eddie's absolutely determined to flirt with him. What follows is snapshots of the two of them growing closer and closer, all while Eddie's absolutely oblivious to the fact that Steve's secretly one half of the famous pop duo Scoops Troop.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

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The prettiest man that Eddie has ever seen walks through the door of the Hideout, and Eddie damn near drops the glass he was rinsing out. It's not like their town's small enough that Eddie could actually recognize everyone in it, and the Hideout gets enough business that Eddie doesn't know everyone who comes in, but still, he was not expecting to get hit in the face with that kind of handsome on his shift tonight.

Sure, the nearby resort is a particular favorite among the wealthy elite - Eddie even heard there was one douchebag pop singer who booked the entire place for two weeks in the spring, apparently just so he wouldn't have to associate with any other guests - but they usually stay on the resort. It's rare for any of them to venture out into the town itself.

Pretty boy is wearing a dark blue polo with Hawkins Hope in Action stitched in yellow across his shirt pocket, which Eddie definitely does not notice purely because he's admiring the way it stretches across his chest. He takes an empty seat at the bar, pushing one hand through his hair as he scans the chalkboard specials they've got on display.

"You think it's as soft as it looks?" Chrissy asks, nudging him with her hip as she joins him in absolutely not just staring at the guy from the backroom.

He huffs out a little laugh. "I think you've got a better chance at me than figuring that out, Chris."

Still, he's fully prepared to head out there and try on at least a little bit of charm, until Jeff comes up next to them.

"I think Chrissy should head out there for a while," he says.

Eddie turns to fix him with a betrayed look. "What? Come on, man, I said Chrissy had a better chance, not that I had no chance."

Jeff nods towards the guy. "Look at him, he's all on edge."

And it's true - the guy's perched on the bar stool like he expects to have to bolt at any minute, and he's started to hunch in on himself like he's trying to take up as little space as possible.

It's kind of sad, actually, which unfortunately doesn't make him any less cute.

"So?" Eddie asks.

"So you know I love you, man, but you can be kind of a lot," Jeff says apologetically.

Eddie gasps, whirling to face Chrissy. "Can you believe this?"

Her nose is a little crinkled, lips turned down the way she does when there's a hard truth she doesn't want to tell him. "You're not always the most soothing presence," she admits.

He lurches back dramatically, hand over his heart. "Complete and utter betrayal, from my own best friends no less."

Jeff pats him on the shoulder. "You'll get over it."

"You can talk to him next time," Chrissy offers.

Which, considering pretty boy is probably staying at the resort and not going to come back, is small consolation.

But, well. He's probably staying at the resort and not coming back, so Eddie guesses he really isn't losing out on much by not getting to talk to him.

At least he can enjoy the eye candy.

He keeps an eye on them at first, only partially because of said eye candy - Chrissy can handle herself, but if the guy is going to be the typical resort douche, Eddie won't hesitate to come back her up. Pretty boy starts to relax a little the longer he's there, though, and Chrissy's doing the genuine smile she does when she has a good customer, so he doesn't worry about it.

By the time the guy leaves, Eddie's heard the sound of them laughing a few times.

"His laugh is just as pretty as the rest of him," Eddie sighs to Chrissy as they watch him leave.

"His name is Steve," Chrissy replies. "He works for that charity that's booked the resort this weekend for a fundraising event."

"That explains what he was doing here," Eddie jokes. "I knew we wouldn't see a resort guest slumming it at the Hideout."

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him, but she doesn't disagree. "They work with kids in the foster care system," she says mildly. "They put on camps and events and things for the kids to come to, do fundraising to get money to support them. He spends most of his time with the kids.”

Eddie groans. “No, come on, that's not fair,” he whines. “Handsome and a pretty laugh and he works for a charity and it's for foster kids and he's likes spending time with them? He's gotta have some flaws. Maybe he's actually terrible with kids, maybe they all hate him.”

Chrissy giggles. “Maybe he leaves his wet towels all over the floor.”

Eddie nods. “Maybe he sings off key in the shower and it's awful and he won't stop.”

Chrissy gives him a little shove. “Well, Steve says they've booked the resort for a few camps and events throughout the rest of the year, so you'll have plenty of time to find out.”

“If he comes back,” Eddie points out.

“Oh, I have a feeling he'll come back,” she replies.

—

Steve comes back.

It's just him behind the bar tonight, with Gareth and Grant back in the kitchen, so Eddie spends a moment quietly collecting himself before he heads over.

Eddie shoots him a smile. "Hi."

"Hey," Steve returns, smiling at him in return - though it seems practiced, nothing like the soft, warm smile Eddie'd seen him give Chrissy when he left the other night.

Ouch.

"Chrissy's not working tonight," Eddie says, trying not to let his disappointment show.

Steve's face scrunches in confusion, a little furrow between his brow that Eddie has the immediate urge to reach out to try to smooth with his thumb.

What is wrong with him? He's usually way better at not letting customers get under his skin.

"Thanks for telling me?" Steve says, the end of the sentence raised up in a question like he's not quite sure he's giving the correct response.

"Just thought I'd let you know, in case you came back in hoping to see her again," Eddie says.

Steve's expression smooths out. "Oh. Nah, I just really liked the… atmosphere…"

He trails off, clearly aware of how what he's saying sounds, but Eddie makes a point of scanning around the bar anyway - it isn't empty, but it's not exactly crowded, either, occupied mostly by small groups who stick to themselves or solo patrons who are more interested in their drinks than engaging in conversation with other customers.

No one's paying the slightest bit of attention to them.

He cocks an eyebrow as he looks back at Steve, and now the smile he gets is a little less practiced, a little more genuinely pleased - maybe even a little teasing.

"Exactly," Steve agrees. "What's not to like about a place where nobody knows your name?

Eddie barks out a little laugh. "Not nobody," he returns. "It's Steve, right? I'm Eddie. What can I get you?"

He calls Steve's order of onion rings back to Gareth, then grabs a glass to get his beer.

"So, Chrissy said you work with the charity that rented out the resort?" he asks. "What do you do for them?"

Steve lights up a little at the question, which, unfortunately, makes him even prettier.

"I'm the activities director," Steve replies.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he sets Steve's beer in front of him, inviting him to continue.

“I plan all the stuff for the kids to do at camp,” Steve clarifies.

His eyebrows go even higher. “That sounds exhausting.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Sometimes,” he admits. “But I don't, like, personally do all of them. Some of the other staff will take lead on things that interest them - like Nancy does journalism and writing workshops, and Lucas picked up basketball, Jon does photography, and Robin's doing film watching and analysis. We actually do a lot of partnerships, too, get people to come in and do guest spots leading activities for like a week.”

Right, Eddie's pretty sure he heard that Hawkins Hope was a celebrity sponsored charity. Makes sense why they're able to afford using the resort for things.

“So what do you take lead on, then?” Eddie asks, mentally hi-fiving himself for finding an effortless way to ask Steve about his interests.

He's pretty sure it doesn't go unnoticed, because Steve blinks at him for a moment before he gives him just a little bit of a smirk.

It's a good look on him, though, so Eddie doesn't mind one bit.

“Swimming,” Steve replies. “Mostly lifeguarding, if we're somewhere on the water, and I do lessons. Baseball in the summer. Ice skating in the winter. Music, sometimes. Cooking. I'll pretty much fill in whenever I need to.”

Eddie's not surprised that the majority of those were sports, but it does mean he flounders a little bit in the next step of his plan - find a common interest and get his flirt on. He's a decent enough cook, but it's not exactly something he does for fun. Which means he's got one option left, and he latches onto it eagerly.

“What kind of music?” he asks.

Steve watches him for a moment, like he's waiting for the punchline. Or waiting to be judged, maybe - maybe the guy only likes Top 40s and is used to being looked down on from guys wearing Dio t-shirts.

And all right, Eddie might judge him a little - but only teasingly, and only if he knew him better. So he just waits, hoping he looks as genuine as he means to.

“I'm not picky,” Steve says finally. “I can find the merit in just about anything. It's not about the genre to me - it's about how the song makes you feel, if you can connect with the lyrics or if the music stirs some kind of emotion in you that you didn't even know was there.”

Oh.

“I get that,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Like - it's not what I usually listen to, and it's not what people expect, but my mom loved Bluegrass and country. I hear it now and it makes me think of her. I still end up singing Hazel Dickens or Loretta Lynn when I clean the kitchen, makes me feel like she's there with me.”

And there's that soft, warm smile that Eddie'd briefly seen him give Chrissy - only now it's even worse because it's directed at him, and it keeps lingering.

“Yeah,” Steve says again, but this time it sounds like you really do get it.

“So, it, uh, sounds like you like what you do,” Eddie says.

“I love what I do,” Steve agrees. “What about you?”

Eddie shrugs. “Can't complain. I get a lot of freedom here, actually. I'm the one that comes up with most of the drinks on our specials list.”

That's usually the most he goes into it, but Steve's still looking at him, so much less closed off than he was when he first came in, and he leans in like he's interested.

So when Steve asks him to tell him more about it, Eddie does. How it's not what he thought he'd be doing after high school, but then, he hadn't really given a lot of thought to much of anything after high school while he was still there, too busy just trying to graduate. How he likes the people he works with and the Hideout itself, how much fun it is coming up with his own drinks, how he's gotten to the point where he can figure out the best drink for someone before they even know what it is themselves.

And all right, he'd maybe been bragging a little, maybe said that with just a little bit of a cocky smirk to see the reaction he gets, but he's still a little bit surprised when Steve picks up on it and gives it back.

“Yeah?” Steve asks. “Do me, then.”

Eddie smiles at him, pleased. “What's the first cocktail you order when you go somewhere new?”

“House special,” Steve replies immediately, shooting him a little smirk.

Eddie gives him a look.

“It's true!” Steve insists. “I can get an old fashioned or a margarita anywhere, but the house special is usually something unique.”

Eddie considers that. “What's your go to drink if you're making yourself something at home?”

“Lemon drop,” Steve says. “They're my best friend's favorite, I learned how to make them for her. It's the only drink I can pull off that isn't just popping a can of beer or pouring a glass of wine.”

Eddie hums. He already knows Steve's taste in beers, so - “Red or white wine?”

“White in the summer, red in the winter,” Steve replies.

“Whiskey or tequila?”

“Whiskey.”

“Apple cider or hot chocolate?”

“Apple cider.”

Eddie manages to fire off questions like that for a while, and Steve even plays along when he asks him something that clearly has little to do with his drink preferences - though Eddie is absolutely ready to spin a tale about how it's vital to know if someone is a summer or a winter person for flavor choices, and being a romance or a horror fan will tell him how adventurous they are if Steve questions it.

Steve doesn't call him on it, though he does raise one eyebrow and give him a little smirk at each one, which leads to Eddie dropping into his explanation, anyway.

He wants someone to appreciate his brilliance.

It makes Steve laugh, warm and a little surprised, like he hadn't been expecting it. “Does that excuse work?”

“I don't know,” Eddie admits. “I haven't tried it on anyone else. What do you think?”

Steve hums, eying Eddie up and down in a way that, ridiculously, makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I could see it working. Depends on how good your drink ends up being.”

That gets Eddie back on more confident ground, and he points dramatically at him. “Prepare to be wowed.”

Steve's an autumn person who likes apple cider, whiskey, and action films, so Eddie makes him a spin on a whiskey highball with ginger ale, apple juice, and cinnamon simple syrup.

Steve takes one sip and immediately looks delighted. It's far from the first time that Eddie's gotten that reaction, but coming from Steve, well.

Eddie doesn't want to say that it makes his whole week, but it kind of makes his whole week.

“This is amazing,” Steve says. “You do this all the time?”

“Eh, just when I feel like showing off,” Eddie finds himself saying, which is true but is definitely not what he wanted to admit to.

Steve's finally looking reasonably relaxed, though, so he can't bring himself to regret it.

“I hope you know you've set yourself up for having to do this every time I come in,” Steve tells him.

Eddie grins. “I'm holding you to that. Better not see you getting drinks from one of the other bartenders here,” he teases.

He's joking - really, he is - but when Steve laughs and agrees, well.

Okay, maybe he kind of means it.

—

It's Eddie's day off, but he's at the Hideout anyway.

He'd feel more pathetic about that if it weren't for the fact that it's Jeff and Gareth's night off, too, and they're also at the Hideout.

It's a slower night, so they're just sitting at the bar drinking beer and heckling Grant while the regulars ignore them and their antics. Or, well, he and Gareth are heckling Grant - Jeff is shifting back and forth between taking their side and taking Grant's, claiming neutrality with a gleam in his eyes that says he knows exactly what he's doing.

Even though he's not working, Eddie still looks up on instinct when the door opens - and then grins when he recognizes Steve.

He flings himself around the other side of the bar, ignoring Jeff and Gareth's surprised exclamations, and very heroically manages to not immediately wave Steve over. He plans to wait until Steve's come to sit at the far corner of the bar, then slide on up to him, but - Steve sees him and immediately makes a beeline to grab a seat in front of him.

Oh.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve greets with a smile.

“Hey, Steve, what can I get you?” Eddie asks.

“I don't know.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him, expression almost playful. “You're the expert, right? What can you get me?”

“What is happening right now?” Gareth asks, immediately squashing the little thrill Eddie'd gotten at Steve's words.

“What's happening right now is that I'm trying to serve an actual paying customer, so why don't you two go find a table to sit at and shoo,” Eddie grumbles at him.

“Come on, Gar, let's quit bothering Eddie,” Jeff says, pushing away from the bar and tugging Gareth with him.

Fuck, Jeff is Eddie's favorite forever, he's going to owe him -

“Eddie's apparently decided to throw in a little free labor for us tonight,” Jeff calls back as they saunter off towards an open table.

Never mind, Eddie hates him.

Steve's brow furrows, and he looks up at Eddie expectantly.

“It's my night off,” Eddie admits.

“Eddie!” Steve chides.

“It's just one drink,” Eddie protests.

Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Uh-huh. What if I wanted more than one drink, were you going to hang out here all night?”

“Maybe,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve laughs at him, but it's soft and - well. It might just be Eddie's wishful thinking, but it sounds almost fond. “Go hang out with your friends. You can get me next time.”

Eddie sulks for a moment - like they're friends, like Steve is scolding him over a stupid decision and Eddie's whining at him about how it totally makes sense, really.

Wait.

“Come sit at the table with us,” Eddie says. “I can give you recommendations on what to order.”

Steve hesitates. “Your friends won't mind?”

“Nah. They love heckling me, so I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. Come on, it'll be fun.”

Despite his words, Eddie's actually a little nervous that Steve won't get along with Jeff and Gareth, or that the tense, rigid way Steve had held himself when he first came to the bar will come back, but by the time Steve's two drinks in, he's folded almost seamlessly in with the three of them.

Jeff and Steve like the same baseball team, apparently, and he gets Gareth talking about ice skating in a way that makes him light up - a way that might make Eddie a little jealous, if Steve didn't keep catching Eddie's eyes and smiling at him.

Steve even gets a couple of their Lord of the Rings jokes, though he admits he hasn't read the books himself, just picked up on some things from the kids he used to babysit. The way he talks about this Dustin kid makes him sound more like a little brother than anything else, and it's really sweet.

Shit, he's probably not terrible with the kids. Maybe Eddie better hold out hope for the wet towels or the terrible shower singing.

It's probably pretty damn late when Eddie hears the door open, and glances over. The man walking in is unfamiliar, but he's looking around the bar with a sense of purpose that makes Eddie grimace.

“We're all up to date on our liquor license and everything, right?” Eddie asks in a low voice.

Jeff frowns at him. “Of course. Why?”

“Check your ten o'clock,” Eddie says, purposefully adding in a little flair like he's a spy operative keeping an eye out for the enemy. “He's just screaming off duty cop.”

Both Jeff and Gareth crane their heads to look, leaving Eddie to sigh internally, but Steve plays along, tipping his head in towards Eddie like they're sharing a moment.

Steve's face is so close to his that he can feel the soft puff of air on his cheek when he breathes out, can see the whites of his eyes as his gaze flicks towards the door. Then he grins, and Eddie can see the way it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Fuck, Eddie should be ridiculous around Steve more often.

“Retired cop, maybe,” Steve replies. “He's here for me. I, uh. I must have missed my curfew.”

Eddie looks back over at the guy, who must have spotted Steve, because he's making his way towards them.

“You still have a curfew?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up,” Steve says, but his smile hasn't faded.

“No, it's cute,” Eddie says. And honestly - it is. “Your dad is your ride when you've had a few too many to drink?”

Steve's eyes darken briefly. “My dad's an asshole,” he mutters, something cracked and bitter in his tone that Eddie's pretty sure wouldn't be there if Steve was entirely sober. “He wouldn't be caught anywhere near somewhere like this, or me in general.”

Well, shit, leave it to Eddie to open his mouth and accidentally step in it.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bumping his shoulder against Steve's. “Mine, too. Fuck ‘em, right? We're better off without them.”

“Better off without who?” Retired Cop asks as he stops in front of their table.

“Our terrible, horrible, no good, very bad fathers,” Eddie replies immediately, shooting Retired Cop what he hopes is a very charming grin.

It must be, considering Steve is back to smiling, and now he's looking at Eddie all soft and pleased.

Retired Cop grunts in what Eddie is going to optimistically assume is agreement.

“Hey, Hopper,” Steve greets. “This is Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth. Hopper's the head of security for Hawkins Heroes.”

“Among other things,” Hopper comments drily.

Eddie's going to guess those other things include picking up wayward activity directors when they stay out too late.

Steve looks a little abashed. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper grumbles. “Get your shit and let's get going.”

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys,” Steve tells them.

“You kidding?” Jeff asks. “It was great, man.”

“Come back any time,” Gareth agrees.

“I'll have a new drink ready for you,” Eddie promises.

Somewhat foolishly, considering he knows that Jeff and Gareth are going to tease him about that, but the smile he gets flashed at him is well worth it.

“I still gotta settle the tab,” he hears Steve tell Hopper as they head out, but he's too distracted by Jeff and Gareth's smirks to think anything of it.

“Not a word,” Eddie threatens before either of them can say anything.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Gareth replies, batting his eyelashes at him instead of saying anything.

“Just let me know when you have the drink ready,” Jeff agrees mildly. “We can call it Steve's Special.”

Gareth and Jeff fistbump each other while Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves himself up out of his chair.

He ignores their laughter as he heads over April, who's behind the register at the moment.

“What's my damage for the night?” he asks.

“Your friend already paid,” she tells him.

“Okay?” He frowns at her, a little too tipsy to make any kind of connection between his question and her answer. “I mean, I'm glad he didn't duck out on his tab and leave me stuck with it, but I'd still like to pay mine?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, you moron, he paid for all of you.”

Eddie gapes at her. “He what?”

April smirks at him. “Guy that good looking, and he picks up the tab for you and those two? I'd hang onto him.”

Eddie's pretty sure his cheeks are bright red. He covers it up by muttering, “Son of a bitch. I'll get him for this.”

—

Steve's already at the bar when Eddie arrives for his shift that night, which instantly makes him perk up.

His crush on the guy is probably a little bit out of control, but eh, that's future Eddie's problem. Tonight Eddie gets the pleasure of some very nice eye candy all night, on top of the security of knowing he's going to have an awesome interaction with at least one patron.

Steve's clearly been there at least a little while, since there's a half eaten plate of loaded fries and a beer in front of him, and he's chatting enthusiastically with Grant.

Well.

Maybe chatting is the wrong word for it, now that Eddie gets a closer look at them.

Steve's leaning in, one elbow braced on the bartop with his gaze focused intently on Grant, as if he was the only person in the room. He's saying something in what must be a low tone, considering Grant's leaning back in to hear him. And is that -

Yup, that's a faint pink flush to Grant's cheeks.

Eddie gapes.

"Is Steve flirting with Grant?" he hisses the moment he finds Chrissy.

Chrissy rolls her eyes. "They got into an argument about pick up lines. Grant said pick up lines are shitty and cliche and don't work, and Steve insisted it's not about them being lines, it's about delivery and intention."

"So they're… flirting to prove a point?"

Damn it, why didn't Eddie think of that?

Chrissy's smiling at him, that sweet little grin she gives him when she knows exactly what's going on in his head. "Why don't you go over there and tell Steve where you sit on the pick up line debate?"

Eddie hip checks her, but, well.

It's not a bad idea.

He does go over, if only because he wants to say hi before he actually starts working.

He hears Grant laughing as he gets closer, but it sounds a little strained.

"Hey," Steve says quietly. "I meant all of it, you know. I wouldn't have said anything I didn't think was true. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Or, uh, guy, if you swung that way."

"You're kind of making me wish I swung that way," Grant teases, but there's something sincerely appreciative in his voice that tells Eddie that they'd been talking about more than just an argument about pick up lines.

If Steve could stop being so kind to his friends, that would really help out Eddie's stupid heart.

He tells himself very firmly to absolutely not think into the fact that Steve's apparently okay with guys dating other guys.

Instead, he stalks up to the counter as Grant walks away, pointing accusingly at Steve.

“I caught you!” he informs him. “What, did you think you could hide it from me? That I wouldn't notice? You're in so much trouble.”

Eddie's not sure what he's expecting, but it isn't for Steve's expression to completely crumble. He sags in the chair for a moment, then Eddie watches him visibly pull himself together, straightening up and looking solemnly at Eddie.

“Okay,” Steve says, very quietly. “How do you want to do this?”

And that - completely deflates the wind in Eddie's sails.

“You're not like, actually in trouble, dude,” Eddie tells him. “I just can't believe you thought you could pay our tabs and we wouldn't realize it.”

Steve's brow furrows, then smooths out. “Oh!”

It's clearly a startled little realization, which immediately makes Eddie narrow his eyes.

“What did you think I was talking about?” he asks.

“I, uh. I guess I just wasn't sure what I did to upset you?”

Eddie considers that. It's possible - but Steve hadn't looked confused, he'd looked resigned. Like there was a secret that he was keeping, and he hadn't been expecting to be able to continue to keep it, and he was pretty sure Eddie knowing it wasn't going to be anything good. But what could he -

And then he remembers that he walked over in the middle of Steve flirting with another guy, and clearly implying that he was okay with guys dating other guys, and -

And the first thing that Eddie said was that he caught Steve and he was in big trouble.

Shit.

“It, uh,” Eddie starts, then stops, pausing to think about how he wants to say this. “There's a rainbow flag pinned up at the corner of the bar.”

Steve gives him a tiny smile. “I noticed,” he says softly. “It's one of the things that made me come back here.”

“Really?” Eddie asks, immediately derailed. “It was my idea to put it up. I wanted people to know the Hideout is a safe space, even if it doesn't look like it.”

“It worked,” Steve tells him. “You're a good guy, Eddie, that was a great thought.”

Eddie flushes, ducking his head for a moment before he determinedly gets this conversation back on track. “So, uh, I just wanted to make sure you knew that none of the staff here are going to hassle you no matter what way you swing. Especially not me.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment. “Especially not you?” he repeats.

Eddie swallows, then nods. “Yeah.”

Steve's quiet at first. Then, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie nods again, letting the moment sit for a little bit. Then he shoots him a teasing little grin, tipping his head at the beer in front of Steve. “What you're really in trouble for is getting a drink from another bartender here.”

Steve smirks at him. “Oh, that's not mine. It's Robin's.”

“Robin?” Eddie asks.

“My best friend, the one who likes lemon drops? She came with me today, said she wanted to meet the guys who got me to stay out so late,” Steve replies.

Oh!

Eddie straightens up, looking around. “Where is she? I want to meet her.”

“She was going to the bathroom, but I think she got distracted on her way back,” Steve says drily. He nods over towards where Chrissy is talking animatedly with a girl he's never seen before. “So you might have to wait a bit on that.”

Chrissy's smiling in a way he hasn't seen her do in a long time, which immediately makes him like this Robin girl.

“Guess you're stuck with me until then,” Steve adds.

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, voice monotone. “However will I get over my disappointment.”

Steve laughs. “You can start by getting me a drink.”

Yeah, okay, Eddie guesses he can do that.

He's going to finish the night by making the best impression possible on Steve's best friend, though.

Even if his own best friend seems to have gotten there first.

—

It's D&D night the next time Steve shows up at the bar.

The other regulars are pretty used to it, by now, and seem content to let the D&D crews take over the back half of the bar, but Steve hasn't seen it before. He's not sure when he started thinking of Steve as a regular - can someone be a regular if he doesn't live here, even if he does seem to come in every time he's in town? - but that's beside the point.

D&D nights were Eddie's idea. He'd wanted to do something similar to what he did in high school, give them a safe place to be able to play - only this time, some place fun, where they'd be welcome as adults instead of laughed at for playing a "kid's game." Even the nights when he isn't playing or DMing, he has a lot of fun with coming up with campaign themed drinks.

It's stupid, but he's kind of nervous about what Steve thinks of it. It's not like anything's going to happen with Eddie's crush, but he enjoys it anyway, enjoys Steve's company. It's going to suck if Steve laughs at it.

Steve beelines for the corner of the bar where Eddie's at as soon as he sees him, which makes Eddie smile involuntarily, despite the clench in his stomach when he sees Steve staring intently at the group in the back.

"Is that Dungeons and Dragons?" Steve asks.

"You know D&D?" Eddie asks. His stomach is still clenching, but now it's in a very, very different way.

"Yeah," Steve replies, shooting him a little smile. "Some of my friends play it. We actually used to have it as an activity for the kids, but Mike and Will are at college and Erica had this huge project she needs to finish for school, so it's on hold now."

"Have you ever played?" Eddie asks.

"A couple of times," Steve replies. "I did, uh. The side characters? For the kids a few times. Do you play?"

"Yeah. I used to run a D&D club in high school, actually, and I started D&D night here."

"Dude, that's really cool," Steve says, so genuine that it makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair. "Oh, hey, I know it's kind of a lot to ask, but would you be interested in doing it for camp this week? Some of the kids coming have really missed it. We'd pay you for your time, of course."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. "You want to pay me to DM a D&D game for summer camp?"

"Yes?" Steve says, like he's not sure why Eddie's in a little bit of disbelief here. "Only it's October now, so not summer camp anymore."

Right, because that's the unbelievable part.

"You know what? Sure. Do you want a one shot, or a short campaign?" Eddie asks.

Steve's face scrunches a bit in confusion.

"How many days do you want me there?" Eddie clarifies.

"All of them?" Steve blurts out.

Eddie's eyes widen, and Steve's ears go a little pink.

"I mean, how many can you do?" Steve asks.

Eddie considers. He could use some extra cash, and he's really missed throwing himself into D&D - he actually thinks he has the perfect campaign, one he used leading up to Halloween back in high school. A few tweaks and he thinks it'll be perfect.

"How about four days, five hour sessions each? Is that too long for the kids?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Nah, I've seen them spend like ten hours playing before, five should be perfect. Come by the resort around noon tomorrow and I'll have the paperwork all ready for you?"

—

There's more security at the resort than Eddie remembers there being the handful of times that he's been there before.

Makes sense, he guesses, since there's more kids than adults there now. It'd probably look bad if the resort let just anyone onto the grounds and some of the kids got kidnapped or something. And if they've got celebrities coming in to get their good PR by volunteering, too, they've probably got to be at the top of their game.

Eddie must be on the approved list, though, because once he's shown his ID and proven who he is, he's given a “guest staff” badge, a map of the resort, and a list of which amenities he's allowed to use for the next week.

Nice. Steve hadn't mentioned that, but Eddie is definitely going to take advantage of it.

He's a little early to meet Steve, so he wanders around the inside of the resort instead, taking in everything.

Eventually he stumbles onto a lounge with a roaring fire and a massive plush sofa, occupied by a teenage girl and a bunch of textbooks.

“Can I help you?” she asks, for all the world like she's a busy executive behind a fancy desk and he's already wasting her time, instead of a teenager sprawled out on a couch doing her homework.

“I'm looking for Steve,” he says.

Her eyes narrow as she sits up. “Why?” There's an edge in her voice now, something a little bit protective.

That's kind of sweet, actually.

“I'm meeting him here about a temporary gig,” Eddie says. “Hi, I'm Eddie.”

Her expression shifts from wary to downright skeptical. “You're the DM who that hairbrain thinks will do a better job than me?”

Yeah, Eddie's taking back that sweet comment.

“You must be Erica,” he says.

“That's Lady Applejack to you,” she retorts with a sniff. “You better be at the top of your game, or I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death.”

Oh, fuck, Eddie likes this kid.

He raises one eyebrow at her. “I thought you had a big project that you're supposed to be working on?”

She stares right back at him, unimpressed. “You going to rat me out if I come play?”

Eddie hams it up a little, making a big show of thinking it over. Before he can tell her that obviously, he's the last one to give any kind of quibble about playing D&D instead of doing homework, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching echoes through the lounge.

“Hey, Erica?” Steve's voice calls, sounding a little strained. “Can you keep an eye out for Eddie, tell him I'm going to be a little late? I gotta - oh. You're here!”

Steve's rounded the corner, and now Eddie can see the reason for the heavier footsteps. He's giving a piggyback ride to a kid, who looks about eleven or twelve. The kid's face is screwed up in pain, and Eddie spots a bloody, skinned knee peeking through ripped jeans.

“Hey, man,” Steve greets. “Give me a minute? I've got to get this guy to the nurse.”

“I don't want to go see Nurse Henderson,” the kid sulks. “Can't you just patch it up yourself? Max is going to tell me I should have just walked it off!”

“Probably,” Steve admits. “But she'd also want you to get looked at if you're really hurt. And Nurse Henderson is the only one who's qualified to decide that, right? Besides, didn't we already talk about not doing stupid things just for a girl?”

“Especially for a girl like Max, who's way too old for me,” the kid replies, in a tone of voice that says, yes, he's heard all of this before. “Fine, I'll go to the nurse.”

“I'll keep Eddie company,” Erica volunteers.

Steve looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“I'm just making sure his campaign is up to snuff,” she informs him.

Steve relaxes, though he still cuts his gaze over to Eddie and waits for him to nod before he takes off.

Eddie tilts his head at Erica. “How would you feel about a little extra backstory? A little party betrayal, maybe?”

Her eyes light up. “I'm listening.”

By the time Steve comes back, Eddie and Erica and hunched over character sheets, and they've got a frankly amazing tie in for Lady Applejack into his slightly tweaked campaign.

“I take it things went well?” Steve asks.

Erica stuffs her character sheets into her folder. “He'll do.”

Eddie gets the feeling that's high praise, coming from her.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lady Applejack,” he says solemnly.

She rolls her eyes, but accepts the hug that Steve gives her, and Eddie's pretty sure he hears Steve whisper thank you.

“Come on, let's go see Joyce,” Steve says. “She's the director of Hawkins Hope, she's amazing. Then we can grab lunch after.”

“Are you bribing me with fancy resort food?” Eddie asks.

Steve grins at him. “Maybe.”

Joyce is amazing, but lunch with Steve is even better. Eddie makes a big deal of moaning over how good the food is, but really, making Steve laugh is the best part.

Yeah, Eddie's in way too deep.

—

"Eddie!" Steve greets when he comes into the Hideout a few days after the final session. He sounds a little bit breathless, and Eddie immediately smiles.

It's amazing how much having a favorite regular there improves his night, on top of the fact that he thinks he and Steve are actually friends now.

"Hey, man," he greets. "The kids all get where they're supposed to be okay?"

Steve looks at him like he did something amazing, instead of just asking a question that any decent human being would ask, but Eddie's not going to protest.

"Yeah, just the staff left now. Hey, I wanted to ask - we're doing a masquerade event on Halloween as a fundraiser. I mean, the event itself is going to be kind of shitty, catering to a bunch of semi famous people, but the staff are having an after party. Do you want to come?"

Eddie swallows, trying not to get his hopes up. "Me?"

"Well, yeah, you were basically staff this week, so you should come."

"Oh." Turns out it didn't work, not getting his hopes up, and now he's fighting disappointment.

Steve must take that for reluctance, though, because he adds, "Chrissy and Jeff and Grant and Gareth are all welcome too, so you don't have to worry about not knowing anyone there? Unless you guys already had plans."

"Nah, I think we were just going to hang out and watch shitty horror movies, I'm sure they'd rather go to an after party at the resort," Eddie says.

It sounds like a much better night than anything they had planned, even if it isn't what he thought Steve might be asking.

"Good! Uh, that's good." Steve looks uncertain for a moment, like he's having a debate with himself. Whatever it is, he must come to a decision, because he leans over the counter a little. "What about you?"

…okay, maybe he's not completely out of luck here.

"Me?" Eddie asks again, but this time he keeps his gaze locked on Steve's.

"You," Steve says again. "I was really hoping you'd come, Eds."

"Yeah? What do I get if I go?"

Steve smiles at him, this soft little hopeful thing, and his eyes drop briefly down to Eddie's lips. "I got a few things in mind."

Oh fuck, this is happening.

"Well now you've got me intrigued. I guess I better make an appearance."

Steve's expression lights up. “See you at the resort at ten?”

—

There's even more security when Eddie arrives at the resort on Halloween. He isn't driving - he's pretty sure there's going to be free alcohol tonight, and he's planning on taking full advantage of it - but the cab he and the others took gets stopped three times by security guards, and each time they have to show their IDs.

“Who the hell is going to the stupid masquerade?” Eddie grumbles after they finally get dropped off at a side entrance to the resort.

“Celebrities,” Gareth says with a roll of his eyes.

There's still a small crowd of people exiting the resort through the main entrance a little bit away, and despite the grumbling and eye rolling, none of them can help craning their heads just a little, to see if there's anyone they recognize.

There isn't - looks mostly like people with press badges and cameras.

There's a little bit of a commotion, though, and that makes them pause, just for a moment.

“He owes us!” someone is shouting. “One song for the bronze tier donors, that's it? What does Alistair think he's trying to pull?”

“Oh, wow,” Chrissy says. “I mean, I knew Alistair was the celebrity endorser for the charity, but I didn't think he'd be here tonight.”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve said it was for the semi famous.”

“Alistair and Hawk are a little more than semi famous,” Jeff points out.

There's more shouting at the front entrance that distracts them, though - looks like whoever it was that was complaining is getting very firmly escorted out to the parking lot by security.

“What are you losers still doing out here?” someone asks, and Eddie turns over to see Erica scowling at him from the side entrance.

He beams at her. “Lady Applejack, destroyer of Vecna, light of my life!”

Erica rolls her eyes. “Get your butts in here,” she orders, disappearing through the side entrance.

Eddie and his friends dutifully follow her, down a few hallways and into a massive ballroom that's all decorated in orange and black lights, fake cobwebs, swooping bats, and even a fog machine. There's about thirty or so people mingling about, but fortunately, she leads them to where Steve and Robin are standing together. They're both dressed in black tuxedos, but Robin has a twinkling gold halo crowned on her head and a pair of feathery wings, and Steve has a pair of devil horns. There's a cup of something bright orange in each of their hands.

Jesus, Steve looks even more gorgeous.

“Hey!” Steve greets, lighting up. “You guys made it!”

There's a round of greetings, finished by Steve pointing out the tables laden with food - some of it is clearly fancy shit that was probably left over from the masquerade, but a decent chunk of it is freshly made, mixed in with a ton of boxes of pizza and pitchers of various drinks.

“Come on,” Steve says, circling his fingers around Eddie's wrist and giving it a tug. “I want to introduce you to my friends.”

Steve leads him around the room, weaving through the small crowd and stopping whenever he finds someone. Eddie meets Jonathon Byers, Argyle, and Nancy Wheeler - Steve's ex, apparently, which throws him for a moment when he sees that they're clearly good friends.

Eddie can't imagine being friends with any of the small handful of exes he has.

Steve shrugs when he says as much. “Nancy and I are much better as friends,” he admits. “Our break up was… all right, it was pretty bad. But it was a long time coming. We just didn't work, you know? We wanted different things.”

“Not a great point in favor of you still being friends,” Eddie points out.

Steve laughs. “Nancy's amazing at what she does. She's an investigative reporter for her real job - she just volunteers here, because it's family. It's a lot easier being her friend.”

Eddie's not completely convinced, but he'll take Steve's word for it.

Nancy seems pretty great, anyway, when both of their circles of friends end up spending most of the party together. She and Robin and Chrissy keep ducking their heads together and giggling, and Jeff and Jonathon are having some kind of emphatic discussion about something Eddie doesn't really understand, and he's pretty sure Gareth and Grant and Argyle have snuck off somewhere to smoke weed.

Eddie's a little disappointed they didn't invite him, except, well, Steve's been pretty much plastered to his side the whole time, so he can't really complain.

“You want to get out of here?” Steve asks, when Eddie has definitely had too many candy corn jello shots to be effectively considering the ramifications of that question.

He agrees anyway, wholeheartedly, and hopes he doesn't come across as way, way too eager.

Steve is beaming at him, though, and he leads him out of the room.

“Let's go for a walk?” Steve suggests, which isn't quite where Eddie's mind had been going, but he can admit it's probably a better idea than anything he might have come up with.

So they grab their coats, and Steve winds a scarf around Eddie's neck even though Eddie insists it isn't that cold out.

He's pretty sure the scarf is Steve's, though - it smells like his cologne - so he doesn't actually try to stop him.

“This is definitely a date, right?” Eddie asks as they're walking along the path to the lake, their fingers laced together.

You know, just to make absolutely certain.

“Yeah, it's definitely a date,” Steve says with a little laugh.

“It's technically our fourth date,” Eddie points out.

There's a little furrow between Steve's brow as he frowns at him. “What?”

Eddie holds up his free hand so he can tick them off his fingers. “One, you bought me drinks and dinner at the Hideout.”

“I paid for Jeff and Gareth too!” Steve protests.

“Two,” Eddie says, ignoring him. “You bought me lunch at the resort.”

“We're staff, we get free lunch!” Steve says.

“Three, you invited me to go to a Halloween party with you. And four, moonlight walk by the lake,” he finishes triumphantly.

“Those are the same date!” Steve's clearly trying to sound exasperated, but he's grinning, so Eddie's calling it a win. “And the other two are like, half dates. So if you really want to, we can call this our second date.”

“Come on, sneaking away from the Halloween party to get time alone is at least worth a half date on its own.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, two and a half dates.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, but he doesn't get time to crow too much about it.

Steve kisses him for the first time out by the lake, leaves rustling in the wind and the reflection of the moon hanging heavy and orange.

It's perfect.

At the end of the night, after they've been gone from the party for so long that people have had to notice - though no one says anything - Steve gives him a piece of paper with his number on it.

“You don't have to call me,” Steve tells him, like there's any chance that Eddie won't use it immediately. “But I'd like it if you did.”

Eddie steals a pen and paper from the front desk, sprawls down his own phone number and shoves it at Steve.

“Here,” he says. “So you'll know it's me when I call you as soon as I get home.”

—

Eddie expected it to be a little awkward, trying to keep up a relationship - or whatever this is, is it a relationship when they've only had two and a half dates? - via phone, but it really isn't. Steve remembers his work schedule, and he calls him every day after he gets home from work, and it -

It's almost as good as having him there. They talk about their days, about everything and nothing, and it's so fucking good it helps distract him from knowing he's not going to be able to see Steve in person again until December.

Or at least, he wasn't supposed to see him until December.

But about a week after Steve's gone, when he's hanging out with Chrissy and trying to pretend like he doesn't miss him an unreasonable amount, Eddie asks, “Who is Alistair, anyway?”

Chrissy raises her eyebrows at him. “You don't know?”

Eddie shrugs. “It hasn't come up.”

“Scoops Troop?” Chrissy asks, like that's supposed to mean something. “The pop duo?”

And yeah, all right, the name sounds vaguely familiar, but it's not anything that Eddie looks for, and he shrugs again. “I mean, sure, I've probably heard some of their songs on the radio.”

She rolls her eyes. “You're ridiculous. I have a poster of Alistair in my bedroom, it's your favorite one. You've listened to him with me, he does that cover you really like, the one you said at least he wasn't a coward who changes the gender when he covers female songs.”

Shit, okay, yeah, now Eddie knows who she's talking about. He remembers that poster - a blown up shot of the pop star wearing a pair of tight jeans with the button popped, bare chested, head tilted back so all you could see was the line of his neck and the underside of his chin. He remembers sitting with Chrissy a year or so after they graduated high school, listening to one of his albums, hearing the guy sing about how it feels to watch the man he loves kiss some other girl, remembers how the song had stuck with him.

Huh. Handsome, good singer, funds charities - maybe he should have given more of his songs a chance.

“Oh,” Eddie says.

Chrissy laughs softly. “Yeah, oh. Should I tell Steve to watch out for your crush?”

Eddie bumps his shoulders into hers. “Steve is prettier,” he says confidently. “And sweeter, and funnier, and - everything-er.”

He does know to cut himself off before he starts going into too much detail, though, and instead he flops down on his bed.

“What's his deal, then? You have a poster, you probably know some things.”

Chrissy shrugs, flopping down next to him. “He's pretty private. Teenage pop star, made it big pretty quickly, had a huge, blow up falling out with his manager and record label. Went quiet for a while, made a massive comeback with a new manager and label as part of a duo with Hawk.”

Eddie hums softly. Nothing all that interesting - or nothing out of the ordinary from things he's read about in the music industry before.

“What was the blow up about?” he asks, curious. He could go look it up himself, of course, but it's easier to ask Chrissy.

“Something about his manager and label mismanaging his earnings. There was some kind of scandal back then about exploitation of child stars, it's why you don't see Harrington Studios or Brenner Talent Acquisition around much anymore.”

Jesus.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “Harrington Studios? Like Steve Harrington?”

Chrissy frowns. “Maybe?”

“Shit, Steve did say his dad was an asshole who wouldn't want to be anywhere near him,” Eddie says. “I wonder if that's why Steve cut ties.”

“You could call him and ask him,” Chrissy says mildly. “Didn't he say he and Robin were just going to be hanging around at home the next few days?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “You just want to talk to Robin,” he protests, even though he's already picking up the phone.

Steve and Robin are home, and Steve sounds so happy to hear from him that Eddie almost immediately forgets everything else.

“I miss you,” Eddie says before he thinks better of it, before he wonders if maybe that's too much.

“I miss you too,” Steve says immediately, sounding a little bit relieved - like maybe he was worried it was too much, too. “I wish I could see you.”

“Hawkins isn't too far from here,” Eddie points out. “And I've got a guest room.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, his voice a little soft, a little hopeful.

“Yeah. Come stay the night, we'll get pizza and watch bad movies.”

Steve hums a little like he's considering it, but it's playful, and Eddie's pretty sure he's going to say yes. “Are we counting this as a whole date, or is this another half date?”

Eddie breaks out into a grin. “Half date,” he decides. “That'll bring us up to three, and tomorrow we can make four.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. “See you soon.”

Steve kisses him the second he and Robin arrive, crowding him in against the wall in the narrow hallway like it's been so much longer than a week since they last saw each other.

“Hi,” Steve murmurs when they break for air.

“Hi,” Eddie replies breathlessly, smiling so wide it hurts.

They end up squished together on the couch, Steve and Robin in the middle with Eddie and Chrissy on either side of them. After the pizza's gone, and they're mid way through their second movie - Eddie glances over, sees Robin's feet tucked under Steve's thigh, Steve's hand curled loosely around her ankle, Chrissy's head pillowed on Robin's shoulder.

Which sounds like a fantastic idea, actually, and he squishes down so he can lean into Steve's chest, Steve's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Later, after the girls have disappeared into the guest room and Steve and Eddie are getting ready for bed, Steve seems… nervous, almost, as they climb under the covers.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks.

“There's things you don't know about me,” Steve admits quietly. “Important things.”

Things like his dad owning a record label and working with a manager who exploits children, Eddie'd guess. Not a great thing for a guy who now works so closely with kids.

But Eddie trusts him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It's okay. I mean, you don't know everything about me either, right? We're only at date three. It's okay if you want to take this slow, to get to know each other before we jump into the messy stuff.”

Steve looks like he's thinking about that. “That's okay?”

“Yeah, of course. If you want to feel each other out, keep this low commitment, even see other people, that's fine.”

It's not really fine, but now Eddie's said it, so he can't take it back.

Steve frowns at him. “I don't want to keep this low commitment,” he protests. “Eds - I'm in this. I don't want to date anyone else.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a little shaky.

Steve's expression shutters a little. “Did you want to?”

“No!” Eddie replies, a little too quickly. “No, of course not. I just didn't want to pressure you. I, uh, I'm in this too.”

“Good.” Steve tips his head in to kiss him softly. “But - maybe slow is good? I haven't really had a serious relationship since Nancy and I broke up.”

“It's been a while for me, too,” Eddie admits. “…is it bad that it kind of makes me feel better? That we're both figuring this out together?”

Steve snorts. “Nah. Not bad. I kind of like the idea of figuring things out with you.”

—

“Hey, Munson!” April shouts from the office, when he's elbow deep in sudsy water doing the dishes. “You got a phone call!”

“Who is it?” Eddie yells back. He doesn't want to lose his groove if it's just a crank call, or one of his friends with something far from urgent.

“Some guy named Steve! Want me to tell him to get lost?” she asks.

“No!” Eddie yelps immediately. Then, in what he hopes is a calmer voice, “No, I'll come get it.”

He dries off his hands, passes April on the way to the office and has to put up with her smirking at him, but he pointedly ignores her.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie greets, already feeling himself smiling.

“Hey,” Steve says back. “Am I interrupting a busy shift?”

He sounds - just a little bit off. Almost like his normal self, but more like he's forcing himself to sound normal.

Eddie frowns. “Even if you were, it'd be a welcome interruption. What's up?”

“It's nothing really important,” Steve says. “I just - wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”

Oh.

Eddie lets himself feel soft and gushy over that for a moment before he leans out to shout, “April, I'm taking my lunch!” and closes the door to the office.

“Eds, you don't have to do that,” Steve protests. “I just wan-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cuts him off gently. “I can tell something's wrong. Taking my lunch is nothing - I'd drive to Hawkins right now to see you if you wanted.”

Eddie can Steve breathe out, a slow, ragged exhale.

“What happened?” Eddie asks.

“My dad happened,” Steve mutters.

Shit.

“Well, if anyone gets how hard it can throw you off when your shitty dad pops back up in your life, it's me,” Eddie says. “You want to talk about it?”

Steve's quiet for a moment. “I don't know why I let him still get to me,” he says after a while. “He didn't even talk directly to me. He hasn't tried to reach out since I cut him off, but he still knows exactly what to say to get under my skin, and he knows where to do it so it'll get right back to me. God, it's so stupid. I don't even care about his opinion, but…”

“But he's your dad,” Eddie finishes for him when he trails off. “Even if he's terrible, even if you don't want to be anything like him, even if you don't really want his good opinion, it's always going to matter a little.”

There's another exhale, though this one's tinged with something like relief. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks.

Steve snorts. “Just the usual shit. I'm not living up to my potential, I'm wasting my time on publicity stunts, I've lost sight of what's really important.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “Your dad really is an asshole.”

“Grade A,” Steve confirms.

“You sure you don't want me to drive down there?” Eddie offers.

“Nah,” Steve says, though Eddie can hear a smile in his voice. “I'm with Robin. She just went to pick up dinner, she should be back soon. Just, uh. Like I said, I wanted to hear your voice. It always makes me feel better.”

“You can't say stuff like that to me when you're not in kissing range,” Eddie teases. Mostly to cover up the way it makes his heart beat a little too fast.

“Sorry,” Steve replies, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says. “I'll still stay on the phone with you until Robin gets back. What do you want me to talk about?”

Steve hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is it too much to ask about what happened the last time your dad popped up?”

Part of Eddie wants to say that nothing Steve could ask him for would be too much, but he does the responsible thing and actually thinks about it before he answers.

“I was seventeen,” he says, once he's decided that yeah, he's okay with Steve knowing this. “I'd been living with my Uncle Wayne for almost five years. He blows back into town, claims he has something of my mom's that she'd always wanted me to get, before she got sick.”

“What was it?” Steve asks.

Eddie snorts. “Nothing. I already had everything of hers that she left behind. He didn't realize I'd already emptied out the old house after he left the last time. But he said he missed me, said he needed me. That he really wanted it to be the two of us this time, the way we always talked about when I was younger and he was teaching me things.”

Steve makes a little encouraging noise.

“Shitty things,” Eddie clarifies. “Other dads taught their kids how to fish or play ball, but mine? He taught me how to hotwire cars. Even at seventeen, he had me convinced. I wanted to believe him so bad, I went along with his idea. Ended up with him skipping town and me in a jail cell taking the fall. My uncle had to come bail me out.”

“I'm sorry, Eddie,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie shrugs, even though Steve can't see him. “It's not your fault.”

“That's not why I'm sorry,” Steve retorts, in a tone that Eddie knows means he's rolling his eyes. “I'm sorry that he couldn't see how amazing you are. You deserve better.”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. “So do you,” he replies. “Fuck our dads, all right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees empathetically. “Fuck ‘em. Who needs them when we have people who actually give a shit about us?”

Eddie wishes they were together, so he could take Steve's hand or tug him in for a hug or something, to make it clear that Eddie is one of those people who gives a shit about Steve.

“Yeah,” he settles for saying. “You can call me anytime, you know that, right?”

“I do now,” Steve says softly. “Thanks, Eds.”

Fuck.

“Any time,” Eddie managed to get out.

“You too, okay? Any time. Even if I don't answer right away, I'll always call you back.”

—

Eddie's pulling his boxes of Christmas decorations out of the storage space off of his little balcony when he notices one of the boxes is damaged.

He's not sure what happened. Water leaking, maybe, or maybe just the box giving out, but it's sagging in on itself, and when Eddie opens it he - he sees the remains of some of his oldest Christmas decorations. The ones that belonged to his mom.

Eddie stares at them for a long time, fighting back tears, and then goes inside to call his boyfriend.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says when he gets his answering machine. He doesn't even bother trying to sound like he isn't bummed. “It's not urgent, just - some of the Christmass stuff I had from my mom got wrecked. Guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Give me a call when you get this, yeah?”

There's an awkward pause that he almost fills with love you, before he hangs up real quick so he doesn't end up going there on a fucking voicemail of all things.

He doesn't really know how long it's going to be before Steve's able to call him back, and it's stupid to just wait around waiting, but… he can't actually bring himself to do the only thing he had planned today and get the Christmas decorations up.

Eddie's still dithering around hours later when the doorbell rings, and he considers ignoring it and pretending he isn't home. He's not in the mood to be any kind of good company, after all.

But then he hears Steve's voice calling his name through the door, and he's on his feet and opening it up before he knows it.

“You're here,” Eddie says, a little gobsmacked.

Steve shifts his weight, looking a little hesitant. “Is that okay? I mean, I know you said you wouldn't mind driving down to Hawkins for me if -”

Steve cuts off, because Eddie's dragged him inside the apartment and pressed him against the back of the door, doing his level best to kiss him senseless.

“It's not too much?” Steve manages to ask in between kisses.

“It's so far from too much,” Eddie returns.

Eddie's not really sure he knows what to do with someone who drove all the way here just for him, just because he was sad, but Jesus, he's not going to complain about it now.

They're both a little disheveled by the time they manage to get away from the door, and Steve gives him a tentative little smile.

“I brought you this,” Steve says, holding something out to him.

Eddie takes it, and it's - a copy of Loretta Lynn's Country Christmas. A signed copy. A signed copy specifically addressed to Eddie, wishing him a merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday season.

He looks back up, gaping at Steve a little. “Steve?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas present,” Steve says. “But I thought - maybe you could use it now.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie's pretty sure he's really close to crying. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a ragged breath.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

He sets the album down, then practically launches himself at Steve, folding him into his arms and hugging him tight. Steve lets himself be held, sinking into the embrace and hugging him back just as strong.

Eventually, when Eddie's reasonably certain he's not in danger of crying - or blurting out a love confession - Eddie pulls back.

“How long are you here for?” he asks.

Steve shrugs. “I don't have any where to be now. I finished work up early, so I've got a few days before we have to get started on winter camp and the Hawkins Hope Christmas gala.”

“Stay here?” Eddie asks, even though he's a little afraid he's pushing it. The guy drove here for him after one upset voicemail, he's pretty sure he's not going to be turned off by the suggestion of staying over a few days.

“Shit, yeah, I'd love to. You want me to help decorate?” Steve offers.

Eddie swallows past the lump in his throat and nods. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He puts on Loretta Lynn, and before he knows it he's laughing along with Steve as they bicker about where to put some of the decorations and immediately agree on others.

It's a much better day than Eddie could have ever imagined.

—

“How'd you guys even find this place?”

It's mid December, and the Hawkins Hope crew officially have the resort for the rest of the year.

Which means Eddie's been hanging out there pretty much all of his days off, to the point where the security staff don't even bother to check his ID anymore. They just let him waltz right into the resort to meet Steve at one of the lounges.

Or in the room Steve's staying in, which is where they're at now.

“We rented it out for a couple of weeks back in the spring. Or I guess, technically Scoops Troop did, but when Joyce saw it we figured it would be the perfect place.”

“That was you guys?” Eddie asks. “I figured it was some doucebag pop singer.”

“Well, I guess you'd be kind of right, depending on how you feel about Scoops Troop.” Steve says it too casually, like he's trying to pretend that he doesn't care about Eddie's response - but he clearly cares about Eddie's response.

Eddie hums softly. “How do you feel about Scoops Troop?”

“Hawk is fantastic,” Steve replies immediately. “She's so, so talented, she could do just about anything, you know? She's funny, and so damn smart, she's just amazing.”

Briefly, Eddie wonders if he should be jealous, but nah. Steve'd sounded similar to the way he does when he talks about Robin, and Eddie knows there's nothing going on there.

“What about Alistair?” Eddie asks.

Steve gives a one shouldered shrug. “I don't think my opinion really matters all that much.”

“Of course it matters, Stevie, your opinion always matters,” Eddie says.

Steve smiles at him, soft and fond. “Thank you.”

Eddie waits, but apparently Steve is going to play hard to get on the subject of Alistair. “Do you like him?”

Steve shrugs again. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, squirming a little so he's draped across Steve's lap, staring up at him expectantly.

Steve huffs out a little laugh, carding his fingers through Eddie's hair.

“It was touch and go there for a little bit,” Steve admits. “There was some pretty dicklike behavior going on for a while.”

Eddie gives a dramatic gasp. “A teenage idol? Being a dick? You don't say.”

There's another little laugh, which Eddie's going to count as a win.

“And now?” Eddie asks. “The charity thing, is that all a cover?”

“Nah,” Steve says. “That's genuine. You go through some shit, get a couple of good thumps on the head, it can change your perspective on a lot of things. Makes you realize what's important, and what's just bullshit, you know?”

It sounds like Steve's speaking from experience, and Eddie makes a little encouraging noise.

“My dad did some pretty shitty things to some of my friends,” he says quietly. “And to me. There was a time when I was probably too much like him. I mean, I wasn't ever that bad, but - I put popularity and shit above the things that really mattered.”

“It's hard to imagine you like that,” Eddie says.

Steve frowns a little. “Really?”

“Well, okay, you're kind of a preppy jock, and back in high school I would have thought you were a huge asshole. But I mean, I was kind of a dick back then, too. I probably would have judged you without even knowing you. And now, knowing you? Shit, you're amazing, Steve.”

Steve swallows, leaning down to kiss him.

“I kind of like that you don't know a lot about Alistair,” Steve admits quietly.

“Really?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Most of the people that I work with, aside from the core staff? They're in this because it's a good look for them, or because of their connections with Scoops Troop. You're one of the few who helped out just because of the kids.”

“You guys did pay me,” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you said yes before you even knew how much. It wasn't because of some celebrity, it was just because you're a good guy.”

Something squirms around in Eddie's gut, in a way that he can't decide is good or not. Don't get him wrong, Steve telling him he's a good guy's got his heart beating a little quicker, but he also feels like Steve's got the wrong impression of him.

“I mean, I also did it because you asked me to,” he says, before Steve goes thinking it was entirely selfless. “And you're the prettiest guy I've ever seen.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “You agreed to help out just to get paid and to get in my pants?”

“Well, not just that. It worked though, didn't it?”

There's another laugh, and Steve jostles him with his knee a little. “Seriously, though. There's not a lot of people in my life that aren't here because of Alistair.”

It's Eddie's turn to swallow. “Well, now you've got me.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, still far too serious. His eyes are so intense as he looks down at Eddie, like he's seeing straight through him - like he's on the verge of saying something big, something maybe too big.

“So what are you going to do with me, then?” Eddie asks, light and teasing, wiggling his eyebrows.

It works to break the moment, though Steve's still looking at him almost too closely.

“Keep you,” Steve says. “If you'll let me.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “Yeah, I'll let you.”

—

The sound of a piano playing draws him down one of the resort hallways, smiling softly as he recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

“La, la-la, di-di-da,” echoes along with the notes of the piano. “La-la di-di-da da-dum.”

He follows the sound, until he reaches another one of the resort's many little lounging areas. This one has the customary fireplace, wide open windows with gorgeous scenery, and cozy seating. It also has a baby grand piano, and Eddie's a little shocked to see Steve sitting at it, eyes closed as he plays.

“Sing us a song, you're the piano man,” Steve croons. His voice is a little raspy, a little rough, low and soft and so fucking gorgeous that it makes Eddie catch his breath. “Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody.”

“And you've got us feeling all right,” Eddie chimes in.

Steve's eyes fly open, and he looks a little panicked for a moment before his gaze catches on Eddie. The tension in his body relaxes a little, though there's something about him that seems a bit wary.

It makes Eddie feel like maybe he shouldn't make a big deal about this, shouldn't exclaim that he didn't know Steve could play or tell him that he should sing more often.

“Practicing for a music activity with the kids?” Eddie asks.

Steve's expression lights up with a smile, and Eddie immediately feels like he's said the right thing.

Which isn't all that common of an occurrence, honestly. Makes it feel pretty damn good that he just about always gets it right with Steve.

“Doing a piano lesson later,” Steve says.

“And you're going to teach them Billy Joel?” he asks.

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Christmas carols, actually. I was just trying to warm up a little.”

“Don't mind me,” Eddie says, plopping down at the bench next to him and leaning against him. “Warm up away. Hey, you play one I know, and I'll even sing.”

Steve's expression goes contemplative for a moment. “How about we sing together?”

“You don't have to,” Eddie says a little guiltily, kind of worried that he'd made him feel pressured.

Steve shakes his head. “I want to. What's your favorite Christmas song?”

“Carol of the Bells,” Eddie says immediately.

Steve barks out a little laugh.

“What?” Eddie demands, bumping his shoulder. “It's a good one!”

“I know,” Steve says. “It's my favorite, too. It's just not a great dueting song.”

“Nah, come on, give me some notes. We got this,” Eddie insists.

Steve rolls his eyes, but his fingers dance over the keys as he starts playing.

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away.” Eddie's not exactly singing so much as he's whispering the words into Steve's ear, lips brushing up right against his skin.

It makes Steve's breath catch. He tips his head to face Eddie, playing without looking.

“Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold,” Steve whisper sings back. Even like this, he sounds good - Eddie can tell he must have gotten some training, but with who Steve's dad is, he's not surprised.

Eddie kind of figures that's why any musical ability Steve has would be a sore subject, so he doesn't ask about it. “Ding dong ding dong, that is their song, with joyful ring, all caroling.”

“One seems to hear, words of good cheer,” Steve sings, lips so close to Eddie's that they're practically breathing the same air. “From everywhere, filling the air.”

Steve joins him in singing, “Oh how they pound, raising the sound,” their voices melding together in a way that Eddie's not sure is technically good, but fuck it feels downright magical.

They make it through a few more verses like that, but Steve kisses him before they finish out the song, and they're too distracted to get back to it.

Really, it's not like Eddie's going to complain.

Steve's amazing with the kids, he's clearly not a terrible shower singer, and Eddie's not holding out much hope for the wet towels on the floor at this point.

Eddie just doesn't know how he got so lucky.

—

When Eddie opens the door, Chrissy immediately smacks him with a magazine, but doesn't say anything until she and Jeff have pushed their way into his apartment and shut the door behind them.

Eddie blinks at them, bewildered.

“When were you going to tell us?” she asks in a low, excited whisper.

“Tell you what?” he asks.

“He probably swore you to secrecy, right?” Jeff asks.

“Can we talk about it now that we know?” Chrissy says. “Oh, wait, you probably had to sign an NDA or something, right?”

Jeff makes a face. “Are we going to have to sign an NDA?”

“An NDA about what?” Eddie demands.

Chrissy thrusts the magazine at him, shaking it until he takes it.

Oh.

That's Steve and Robin on the cover, wearing matching Christmas sweaters, with glitter on their eyelids and cheeks and snowflakes in their hair.

He can feel his expression go a little dopey and fond, but hey, how is he supposed to help it?

Eddie assumes it's some kind of article about the Christmas gala Hawkins Hope is throwing, but the caption of the picture catches his eye as he's looking up.

Christmastime With Scoops Troop! Alistair and Hawk spill about their holiday traditions.

It's not until Eddie hears Chrissy saying, “Oh” and Jeff going, “Oh shit, you didn't know,” that Eddie realizes he's gaping.

Eddie slams his jaw shut. “No,” he says tightly, feeling a sharp stab of hurt covered up immediately by a blinding rush of anger. “No, I didn't know that my boyfriend is famous. Apparently that's something that he didn't feel was important to tell me.”

He throws the magazine down onto the couch, stalking around the living room. “Apparently Alistair likes to play games with poor, hick bartenders, make them think they've found something amazing, while Mr. Famous Douchebag is probably off laughing with his other celebrity friends about what an idiot I am.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy says, sounding a little shocked. “I don't know if that's fair.”

“Fair?” Eddie demands. “Fair would have been leaving me the hell out of however he gets his rocks off. It wasn't coming into the Hideout again and again, hanging out with us and getting to know us, all the time keeping something like this!”

“Hey,” Jeff cuts in. “Come on, man, Steve didn't owe us anything then. He was just a guy coming into a bar to get some drinks, getting along with the staff there.”

Eddie snarls, because he wants to be as furious as possible, and he isn't thrilled that Jeff's making a logical point. “Fine,” he concedes. “But he owed me something. He should have told me what I was getting into before I got too deep. I don't - what, was his plan to just keep quiet about this forever and hope I wouldn't find out? How stupid does he think I am?”

Chrissy and Jeff are silent at that, but that just deflates Eddie more than if they had tried to argue with him.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.

“Do you want to break up with him?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie startles. “No!” Then he pauses, considering. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Jeff prompts.

“What if all of this was a game? What if he never liked me at all, and he was just a celebrity asshole having some fun?”

“What if it wasn't?” Chrissy counters gently. “What if he's just a guy who found someone he really liked and was too scared to tell him about this?”

Eddie drops down into the couch, burying his head in his hands. “I have to talk to him, don't I?”

—

Eddie goes to talk to him.

He asks the resort staff to let Steve know that he's here, waits around in the front entrance until one of the staff tells him they got the go ahead to let Eddie wait in Steve's room.

Eddie's sitting on the bed when Steve there.

“Eddie? Are you okay, they told me you-” Steve cuts off, and Eddie's going to assume that he saw the magazine in Eddie's hands.

He can't bring himself to look up to see him, to check for sure.

“Was any of it real?” he asks. His voice comes out rough, though he manages not to sound like he's on the verge of tears.

“God, Eds, of course it's real, how can-”

“Don't,” Eddie cuts him off, harsh and sharp.

Steve makes a little wounded sound before he falls silent, and this time Eddie can't help but look up at him.

Steve looks - he looks like a fucking wreck. His eyes are wet and sad, and he looks like everything that he'd been trying to balance on his shoulders has come crashing down. Eddie wishes he could say with confidence that the guy he knows, the guy he's fallen in love with, is the same guy he's seeing now, is who Steve really is.

Still, Eddie isn't here to purposefully hurt him. Chrissy and Jeff had talked sense into him - he just wants answers.

“I don't think it's fair for you to act like I'm out of line for doubting that,” Eddie says.

Steve crumples like a wet paper bag.

“You're right,” he says, which honestly - Eddie wasn't expecting. “It's not fair, I'm sorry. Of course you'd think that if I was hiding this, what else wasn't I telling the truth about?”

Eddie rolls up the magazine to hide how his hands want to shake, crinkling it with the force of his grip. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Not at first,” Steve admits, lips twisted in a humorless little smile. “This summer, I just - it was nice, spending time with people who had no idea who I was. I thought that would be it, but then the more time I spent with you, the more I fell for you, and by the time I realized I didn't want to let you go, I was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, afraid of what it would mean for us. There's so many people that think they know me as Alistair, and so few that know the real me. I knew, just - even if you didn't hate me, even if you still wanted to be with me, things were going to change. I wouldn't just be Steve anymore.”

“But… you are Alistair. I'm not getting the real you unless I can have both.”

Steve swallows. “Do you want both?”

Eddie blinks at him, a little thrown. “What kind of question is that?”

“Most people want to date Alistair, the pop singer. I haven't had anyone since Nancy who knew me as Steve first, and I - I don't know. I kind of thought it would work the other way, too,” Steve admits. “That you wouldn't want any part of Alistair.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you keep talking about Steve and Alistair like they're different people. They're both still you, right? I mean, sure, you've got to put on a different front when you're out there with the press and the celebrities, but we all do that a little. You think I act the same way with most customers that I do with you?”

“I - no. Okay, well, I hope not,” Steve adds, just a little bit teasing.

“Definitely not,” Eddie says, giving him the tiniest smile. “So if you're really in this, I want you to be in it. I don't want you to have to hide something so huge from me. I think I deserve the chance to know all of you.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly. “You're right. You're - yeah. If you still want this, if I didn't fuck everything up, then I promise no more secrets.”

Eddie lets out a slow, ragged exhale. Then, “It was real, right?”

“Every bit of it,” Steve says. He inches closer, then when Eddie doesn't stop him, he comes to sit next to him.

“Everything I've told you is true,” Steve says solemnly. “It's okay if you can't believe that yet. I promise I'll work really hard to show you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe I'm stupid, but I do believe you. There's a lot of things that make sense now.”

Thinking back on it - he doesn't think Steve ever actually directly lied to him, not once. Just by omission.

“Fuck, your dad is even worse than I thought,” Eddie swears. “I assumed you guys had a falling out because he fucked over your friends, but he fucked over you.”

“And my friends,” Steve says. “Jane, Hopper's adopted daughter - she got it the worst. I mean, it was mostly our manager, Brenner, who was the real piece of work, but it's not like my dad gave a shit.”

“Fuck him even more,” Eddie mutters. “Am I allowed to ask what happened? Will I have to sign an NDA or something?”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “No NDAs, and yeah, you can ask. Hopper and Joyce were the ones that uncovered a lot of it, at first, and then Nancy and Jonathan did this massive push and got all the details to leak to the press. They're in investigative journalism half because of how good of a job they did. Robs and I both almost quit music after, but Joyce and Hop knew this guy who was a really good manager, and Murray knew Dimitri who had a small record label, and it just… fell together.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Hopper's your head of security, isn't he?”

Steve grins. “And the security for Hawkins Hope, but yeah, mostly me and Robin. Jonathan also does most of our pictures for album covers and stuff, and Argyle actually handles our PR.”

Eddie hums. “Wait, why didn't I have to sign an NDA? What if I was secretly a reporter just pretending to be a bartender?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “But you weren't.”

“What if I was?” Eddie insists. “Or, okay, what if it didn't work out and I was the kind of guy who liked petty revenge? What if some shady paparazzi comes up to me and promises a huge pay day if I spill all of the secrets I learned?”

“You wouldn't,” Steve says confidently.

Which, okay, yes, Eddie very much appreciates Steve's trust in him and it kind of makes him feel a little gooey inside, but Eddie's on a roll and he has a point to make.

“I could!” Eddie protests. “What if I was just a huge asshole? What do Hopper and Argyle think of you dating someone without an NDA?”

“I don't think I've ever had anyone mad at me that I didn't ask them to sign an NDA,” Steve says thoughtfully.

“Well clearly you've been dating douchebags,” Eddie grumbles. “You have to look out for yourself more, okay, what if I was just the worst person in the world and - what?”

Steve's smiling at him way too fondly. “I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you,” he says softly.

Eddie's breath catches. “Is that, uh. Is that a confession, or the reason you didn't have me sign an NDA?”

“Both?” Steve admits. “Look, I know it's kind of early, so I'm not expecting -”

“No, fuck that, I'm definitely in love with you,” Eddie cuts in. “I've wanted to say it since the time you called me at work.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes out. “Still?”

“Still.” Eddie makes a little face at himself. “I do trust you, Steve. It might take me a while to get used to everything, but I don't think there's anything I'm going to learn that will change that.”

Steve kisses him, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair.

“Come to the Christmas gala with me?” he asks.

“Won't the press and stuff be there?” Eddie says.

“Yeah. It's okay if you're not ready for that, but I - I think I'd like to tell people that I have a boyfriend. To introduce you whenever you are ready.”

Eddie considers that. He's honestly not sure he is ready, but - shit, is he ever going to feel ready? “Yeah,” he says. “Jesus, yeah, let's do it.”

“Yeah?” Steve says, his face lighting up.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again. “Just, uh, let me call my uncle and tell him first. Unless - do you want to come with me, tell him together?”

Steve kisses him again. “I'd really like that. We're still in this, still figuring this all out together, right?”

Eddie follows after him for another kiss. “Together,” he agrees.

Yeah, Eddie can handle that. As long as they're together.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie holiday exchange #pop singer steve harrington #bartender eddie munson

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fuctacles · 2 months

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Edzio Gąska

For @steddiemicrofic "fool" | M | 454 | no cw | medieval AU, hoh Steve, mute Eddie, fade to black, established relationship

Dingdingdingdingding.

The constant jingle was surprisingly easy to get used to. In a way it became a part of him, alerting others of his presence, warning them, "shut your yaps! The Royal Fool is listening."

Not many cared about the warning, though. In their eyes, a jester without a tongue was as good as dead. He heard them whispering that the king should get someone actually entertaining more than once. None of them complained when he flipped out his lute, though.

When his king sat alone on his throne, disinterested and weary, he'd lean down and shake the hat in his face.

Dingdingdingdingding.

King Harrington would look up with a smile, without a hitch. Sometimes it was an amused smile, sometimes tired, and sometimes, it was dark. His fool liked all of them equally, but the dark smile was the most special.

When the guests leave and the servants gather to clean up, his real job starts. No one bats an eye as he follows the king to his chambers, he has a room adjecent to them anyway. He's a busy guy, playing the role of a personal servant on top of being the court's entertainer. He helps his king dress up in the morning and get ready for bed at night. He helps him plan and rule.

Behind closed doors, Eddie has his king's full attention.

His hands were flying, mouth forming words he couldn't voice, passing information he'd gathered around the party.

"Slow down, damn it," the king told him from the bed. "Got somewhere to be?"

Eddie glared at him. He looked down pointedly at the king's lap then back up. The king laughed.

"What did he say? Go on," he signed the words as he spoke. It always made Eddie more compliant, knowing he and his king had their own language, known only to them. He signed back all he had gathered from the courtier's gossip that day.

Good job, fool, he signed, when Eddie's arms dropped at his sides.

Dingdingdingdingding.

The hat jingled when the man shook his head.

"No?" The king raised his eyebrow.

Not fool, Eddie explains.

"Ah," the king nods in understanding and corrects himself. Sorry, love.

He barely has the time to reach out, when he gets a lap full of colorful fabric, bells, and long limbs. His jester settles against him with a content sigh and starts grinding almost immediately, the horny little creature. Without further prompting, he flips back and rolls them on the expensive sheets, his jester's hair losing the hat and splaying against the pillows.

"A kiss and I'll ride you?" he offers.

Eddie rolls his eyes but reaches up, tangles his fingers in the man's hair, and pulls him down.

#eddie is self conscious ab kissing since hes lost his tongue but steve knows how to motivate him #steddie #mine #cj x steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril #steddie microfic #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #ff #st #stranger things 4 #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #medieval au #king steve #steddie ff #hoh steve harrington

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hotluncheddie · 2 months

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Jester.

For the April @steddiemicrofic prompt 'fool' !

wc: 454 | rated: G | cw: none | tags: Royal Fantasy AU, Jester!Eddie, Prince!Steve, chubby Steve Harrington (as always)

♠️❤️♣️♦️

The great hall, once more, is alive; with bodies and music, dancing and food. The people partaking in rich wine, savoury meats and fresh breads, cheeses littered with herbs and thick garlic butters. Fruits and sweets are spread, abundant, across the castles long tables.

Stefan rises and refill his plate, returning to the small throne designated to him, by his fathers side. Although, both royals left for bed some hours ago - the kingdom falling into twilight.

Constellations glint through the great stone windows that line the hall.

Stefan, though, does not crave sleep, does not desire rest or his quarters. Instead staying, and eating, relishing the discreet company of his, most secret, most special one.

He did talk some, extending himself amongst the masses. He is favourable to them, tries to be kind, and fair (an easy feat compared to the king.)

As even in his changed state, the people fawn to him, the maidens touch his arm and their fathers flash their jewels, because long dinners and celebrations have added softness to his jaw, a width to his waist and thighs. Enough for new robes to be drawn and tailored.

But Stefan pays it no mind, simple pleasure yielding natural results. Some even herald it as a sign of their land falling again into peace, safe now from dragons and beasts. Stefan no longer required to fight amongst his knights, to live in fitful bursts of danger and fear.

Now, instead, time is pleasant. Long hours of indulging allowing him a most gracious gift. At grand affairs like these, he is able sit, and watch, and wait.

Watch for the jesters sweeping eyes to befall him, again.

Wait to be sent a wink or smile, for the starlight that sits abundant in dancing brown eyes to grace him.

His clown plays, entertaining them all. Weaving sweeping tales and drawing joyous songs by lute. With nimble movements of his frame and great expressions of his face, the people will laugh and gasp and cheer.

His sweet thing cause of it all, stoking the flames, breathing stories and poems to life. Like magic.

Then, by darkest night, guests dispersed, Stefan will stay sat at his thrown, table clean before him, stomach full.

With eyes cast foreword, essence set endlessly on but one thing, as it has been, all night. Stefan will ask ‘play me another?’ reaching out as Edmund steps forward, bowing deep to softly kiss the extended ring, the princes knuckle.

And looking up through shining eyes, lips splitting into a sweet grin. The jester will speak softly, a voice saved solely for him.

‘His majesty may be more a fool, in fact, than I, to think that it is not already done.’

♠️❤️♣️♦️

i wrote this and couldn't stop thinking about it :)

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#hotlunch #steddie #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficapril #fantasy au #chubby steve harrington #jester eddie munson #he's a slutty little jester too. just so you know. in tight little leggings and a big silly hat #my fic

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formosusiniquis · 2 months

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in the library there lived a hobbit

Steve Harrington has always been a romantic. He spends his time in his head imagining possible futures with strangers, but one in particular has really caught his attention: the mysterious son of Wayne who comes to Baby and Me every week with his granddaughter Lucy.

When opportunity knocks, Steve is quick to suggest that this mysterious dad starts volunteering at the library. Enter Eddie Munson, a high school crush, and now Steve has to deal with the fantasy single dad he'd been imagining being real, in the library, and reading fantasy books to kids twice a week.

aka my fic for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington WC: 20k | T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: Children's Librarian!Steve Harrington; Single Dad!Eddie Munson; Getting Together; Modern AU; Fluff; Fantasy/Daydreams Vs. Reality

It's been an absolute joy to bring to life @oriarts beautiful artwork please, please check it out here

And a very special thank you to @thefreakandthehair for beta-ing this for me, check out her stuff here

There's a snippet below the cut, but you can of course read the full thing now on AO3

They didn't really write advice columns for men who work with kids and suffer from terminal cases of baby fever. He knows: he's checked. Although, the reference librarian who helped him was Robin, so Steve can't really rule out the possibility that she missed something in her haste to write her own article.

Actually land a date, move out, have babies. Love the agonized aunt of your future children, Robin

It isn't like it was information he didn’t already know. Steve is very aware that he isn’t in the place for kids yet, mostly in the literal sense: romantically single, platonically in a two bedroom apartment with Robin with no space for their own stuff, let alone a kid.

So instead, for thirty-five minutes a week, he gets his fix by leading Baby & Me.

“Give you some help settin’ up, Kid?”

Steve’s startled from his mindless rhythm of setting out the chairs in the activity room and brought back from his baby-fueled drifting by one of his favorite story time guests.

“They pay me to do this; not you, Wayne,” he says, not bothering to turn all the way around. “You can fill the silence if you really want to do something though.” Steve’s set him an impossible task: Wayne is a talker the way Dustin has good manners. The only grandpa who comes to story time, he’d been coming for a month before a particularly bold widow and her youngest granddaughter got a name out of him— but not the date she’d been hoping for.

He takes his usual seat in the circle, across from where Steve is still standing, arms crossed and empty.

“Where’s?” Steve asks.

Wayne quirks his brow down. When Steve follows it all the way down to the floor, Lucy is happily making her way to them in a slow and effortful crawl across the room.

“Been doin’ that since the last time we’s here,” Wayne says.

“Is that why you all missed last week?”

“Nah,” he waves the thought away, “Lucy Joan caught a cold. Didn’t think you’d want ‘er spreadin’ it to the rest of the kids. ‘Course her Daddy was a wreck, had to pry him out with a crowbar to get him to go to work this week.”

Pink cheeked with a gummy smile, Lucy is the picture of health today. She’s made it to Steve now, tugging on his pant leg trying to stand. Crawling is going to lead quickly into walking he suspects.

She doesn’t make it to standing, her tugging taking on a new message. Steve has a rule about picking up any of the babies, a need to create personal boundaries for him and them, but her big, brown doll eyes are harder to resist each week.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things reverse bang #strvbb #stranger things reverse bang 2024 #librarian steve harrington #single dad eddie munson #my fic #steve and robin #modern era fic #stranger things fic

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 6 months

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alone together

pairing: knight!steven harrington x princess fem!reader

wc: 1.5K

warnings: none, a moment of sexual tension, but it's clean.

summary: a knight and a princess alone in a gallery staring at art. nothing more.

A/N: kinda 'inspired' by the daphne and duke scene from brigerton season1 in the art gallery and also the song from the unofficial musical. also I kinda would love to do more for this au, so if anyone likes they could request ideas. also this idea came to fruition cause I was staring at the birth of venus painting at work.

masterlist / steve harrington

the gallery was one of two places your parents allowed you to occupy without being watched by thirty people. that and the castle where you’re trapped behind layers of brick and armored knights. and honestly the gallery wasn’t much different, brick walls surrounded you but they were covered in hundreds of marvelous artwork over the centuries.

your eyes bore into the birth of venus, her dreamy gaze entrapping you while trying to ignore the burning stare from across the room.

“a beauty, is she not?” raising your voice to communicate with your guest.

gentle steps echoed off the walls, the faint clanging of metal followed. “a rare one indeed.” a shiver up your spine, you don’t believe he was talking about the art.

“how much do you know about art, sir harrington?” turning on your heel to face his direction.

he stood with his back straight, feet firmly planted on the wood flooring. he kept his right hand curled on the hilt of his sword with his left arm limp at his side. his cream tunic paired with a light blue vest fit him well, loose enough to be comfortable but tight enough where it hugged his muscles when fighting. the black trousers were also… well fitted. you had to fight your eyes to stay on his face.

he was too pretty to be a knight, at least in your opinion. sharp pointed nose, pretty pink smile, his gentle brown eyes that made your heart speed up. sometimes you catch yourself staring, noting all his freckles or how he runs a hand through his hair wishing it was yours.

a cough sounded off the walls causing you to startle slightly, blinking in rapid succession five times. sir harrington was closer now, hands held behind his back.

he peered at you with a conceited frown, “feeling well princess?”

licking your lips before taking a swallow, eyes to the ground. “apologies, sir harrington. i did not mean to ignore.” feeling bashful under his watch.

“‘tis alright, princess.” leaning down a bit to catch your eyes. “and please call me steven. sir harrington is too formal between us, don’t you think?” the last three words are almost a whisper, even with just the two of you in the large room.

curious eyes taking him in, his as well moving around before trailing down. unconsciously you took a deep breath causing your breast to inflate from the air and your attire. steven’s eyes stopped for a moment before quickly looking at your face then turning to the painting.

both facing the painting, side to side with a small gap keeping a respectable distance. steven’s hands hidden while yours fiddles over your stomach.

“please, do repeat yourself sir har- steven. i would like to hear your thoughts, steven.” liking the sound of his first name. “and you may call me, y/n. if you wish.” crossing that boundary most royals don’t.

looking at the knight just as he does to you, he flashes a charming smile. “i quite like calling you princess. y/n will be for… special occasions.”

the shivers returned. “and what might be a special occasion, sir harrington?”

he cocked a dark brown, “i’ll feel it.” before once again, glancing away first.

he was someone you were told to stay away from, not sir harrington literally, but someone with his aura. a devilish person with the charm to follow, but like a snake you followed the tune from the charmer.

“well then,” breaking away from his side profile, “how about you tell me your feelings on this painting.” head tilting to re-examine venus. “would love to hear your insight.” finding any excuse to hear him speak. voice rich and smooth like those of the finest silk draped over your bed.

he took a deep inhale through his nose, chest puffing from the action and it drew your eyes, lips parting with a short exhale. “the painting is exquisite.”

you couldn’t help the light laugh from your lips, “that is quite true, but what in this painting draws you in?” leaning your side closer towards his.

“well,” he took a side step into your lean, causing your shoulder to nudge his bicep, “her eyes. they hold something within them, almost pulling me into a trance. i could stare at those cherub cheeks for hours, feel weak in the knees when they puff up from her smiles. i bet it’s a wonderful smile, wish that was included.”

you hummed in agreement. her gentle face was painted with such thoughtfulness and care, you envisioned her lover painting her. taking all the time in the world to stare at his love, getting to memories every single part of her that he loves to worship in private and this is his way of showing her off to the world.

you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress, eyes going from her face to her body. “her body is a temple. i envy her.” hands down by your sides.

a sudden warmth radiated near your hand, you looked down to see steven had dropped his own arms. his knuckles barely brushing yours, it felt inappropriate without your gloves but it was just the two of you.

“why envy? you're just as beautiful as this goddess.”

a deep inhale, “she looks… comfortable in her curves and softness. and i stand before her in a tight cage beneath this fabric, ribs aching and- and breasts ready to pop free.”

your eyes widened and you covered your mouth with both hands as you turned to look at steven. he seemed indifferent, only a raise of his brows and what looks to a restrained smile or smirk.

“apologies, again. my tongue is quite loose today, my parents would have my head for such language from a princess before a gentleman.”

he shrugs, “i won’t tell. say whatever you may.” his boots side-step closer, leaning his head so his lips could ghost over your ear. “do you wish to be free from clothes or is it something… more for you?”

you clutched the fabric of your gown into a fist, “both. wishing i could feel free in my skin, not wanting to be dressed in all these jewels and pins stabbing into my skull for a delicate updo. and i wish i could be free from the title that’s been attached to me since birth. a title i don’t want.”

“and what do you want?”

a light gasp left your lips when you looked over your left shoulder to see steven standing behind you, his hands holding on your biceps. he leaned his chest into your back and his hands skim down your heavy limbs. your breathing got heavier as his hands slipped past your elbows and stopped at your wrist. your eyes were entranced at the veins under his skin and the length of his fingers.

“what is it that you want, y/n?” steven’s lips bump the shell of your ear. a gasp mixed with more filled the room, eyes fluttering at the sensation.

“i- i want… i want you. steven, i want you. you are all i want in this life.” pleading with the knight behind you, finally speaking those hidden thoughts.

“if i could, i would whisk both of us away, leave everything behind and just be with each other. no judging or hiding needed.” his lips pressed wet kisses upon the apple of your cheek to the point of your jaw. steven slipped his hands further so you were palm to palm as he interlocked your fingers together.

you turned your head, lips parting as you held eye contact with your fearless knight. his light brown eyes hypnotized you and pulled you into a fantasy that you never wanted to leave. they made you dream of waking up beside him in a small cottage hidden in the woods, not stressed with lessons or an entire kingdom sitting on your shoulders. you’d slow dance in your kitchen, read books or poems to each other, profess your undying love for each other over and over in the millions of ways you could think of.

you blink and you're back in the gallery, standing before venus and in the hold of knight steven. a loud banging resounded through the empty hall causing you both to flinch away. anxious hands smoothed out invisible wrinkles and steven swiped a hand over his hair, clearing his throat before calling out, “what is it?”

the door creaked open and another guard peeked their head in, a woman with short blonde hair. you quirked your head, trying to recall if you’ve ever seen her around before, you can only picture an image of her walking beside steven. you glanced over to him and he was smiling at the knight, “buckley. what’s the issue?”

“sorry for intruding, but the king and queen are requesting your return. both of you.” giving herself a slight rock on her feet.

“uh, thank you, buckley. round up the others, we’ll meet outside.” and she nodded to his commands, shutting the door behind her.

steven turned back to you, keeping a distance you hated, but knew was needed. you could see he hated the space as well but knew his duty came first, your safety came first. “don’t want to keep your parents waiting. hopefully we’ll visit again, and see more of the art housed here. just the two of us…”you dropped your gaze to your feet, hiding your smile, “i look forward to the day, steven.”

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington au #knight!steve harrington x princess!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things au #Spotify

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depressedtheatrekiddo · 6 months

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Steddie kinda famous AU(?) | Genderfluid Stevie <3 | Eddie is a rat man and I laugh at him (I would probably be like that if I was Steve Harrington husband but that's not about me) | Live laugh love Stevie | Pushing the history teacher Steve agenda because he's a variant of Hob Gadling >:D

[I'm sorry if it has errors it's been a while since I had written something in English (it's not my first language) so whatever mistake I have feel free to tell me and I'll edit <3]

. ° — ° — 🌟 — ° — ° .

Corroded Coffin seemed to be popular, things were getting better for them, they still had to do part time job because of that 'what if?' but things were going well. Definitely.

In an interview they asked about a song, the meaning. And the shit man Eddie Munson is, he answered with a grin on his face "That's about Stevie, as most of them".

And the fans went crazy, trying to find someone with that name in the Corroded Coffin set or working at some usual bar they played at.

"They is a history teacher" Eddie Munson told the world in another interview "and we are married" he showed the camera a ring he had next to his guitar pick on his neck, he had the biggest smirk on his face.

Then Corroded Coffin were guests of a fundraising gala, they were asked to play at it to attract more people. It was a fancy gala tho, everyone was in their bests dresses and all.

"This one's for my beautiful angel there, who looks as gorgeous as always" And Eddie winked at a special balcony of the vip guests.

Most of the public saw Eddie laughing softly, but they didn't know why. In that balcony a lovely brunette in a marion blue dress gave the guitarist and second voice of Corroded Coffin the middle finger as he had a stupid lovely gaze on their face while she blushed a little.

"Yeah love ya too sweetie" Eddie chuckled before starting with the show.

Later at the gala people saw Eddie Munson next to the tall brunette in that marion dress.

"So are you Eddie's girlfriend?" An interviewer asked, he looked at Stevie with those eyes Eddie didn't like.

But Eddie laughed as he waited for Steve's answer, that was going to be good as hell, they had the bitchy face on.

"Not a girl" Steve smirked "And definitely not his girlfriend, nor boyfriend, nor partner" She looked down at the man, who seemed so little compared to them "He's my husband"

"I am" Eddie smiled so stupidly in love as he looked up at Stevie, who usually wasn't that tall but with the black heels they was wearing today the difference was more than usual.

"Uh— Yeah" The interviewer looked at different places to get outta there

"You got any problem with that sir?"

"N-no it's perfectly fine ma'am— I mean sir— I mean—"

Steve snorted "Come on darling, let's go somewhere else without this kind of people"

And where Stevie went Eddie followed

The amount of edits with the song 'walk em like a dog' after that gala were more than years the Earth has.

"Teddy, look, another one" Steve chuckled as she showed Eddie his phone.

"Stop with that, you menace" Eddie laid down on the couch, next to his significant other, trying to take their phone away playfully.

"Erica is going to bully you so bad" Stevie giggled.

"And Red too" Eddie sighed "Jesus Christ, Stevie I am like that always?"

"It's cute"

"I hate you" Eddie muttered as Steve put on the baseball match of today.

"Love you too sunshine" She smiled softly as they started playing with Eddie's hair.

#steddie #genderfluid steve harrington #loml <3 #eddie munson #he's the raccoon man #like rockstar in a rat man way #steve x eddie #I see the way Stevie and Hob are connected idc what you say #I'm living for this #there's another thing I have where Steve is a drag queen and it's about platonic stobin what dya think about???#I'm writing again 😭🌟#steddie it's my comfort ship now #pandalily I'll come back someday #stranger things #I'M BACKKK #*insert Dusty and Stevie scene in S3 you know what*#have a nice day <3 #ALSO IMAGINE THAT STEVIE WOULD BE YOUR TEACHER #I would be insane #imagine seeing them on tv with that random rockstar your brother listens at #and go “that's my history teacher”#that would be wild #because Steve's Barbie and Eddie is his Ken idc what dyall say #kiddos go like “yeah my super cool lovely history teacher Stevie and their husband Eddie Munson”#“EDDIE MUNSON THE ROCKSTAR?”#“what?” and then the kids go wild (yeah even more)

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lovebillyhargrove · 6 months

Text

1989, four years after the 4th of July Starcourt fireworks.

***

It's Hawkins High class of 1985 Reunion, held at Tina's house and happening around Halloween. Tina has this cool idea of making it a fancy-dress party, but it has to be medieval, spooky and everyone should wear masks. It's a must. This way, there will be a special thrill, a secret, because people haven't actually seen a lot of their ex-classmates since prom 1985.

So why not combine two events with a little twist? It'll be even more exciting.

There are kings and queens, hangmen, princes and princesses, jesters, plague doctors, queens' lovers and kings' mistresses, all the court nobles, ladies-in-waiting and knights, royal kitchen cooks, you name it.

The house is lit, the costumes are gorgeous, there is laughter and music, everyone's drinking champagne dancing and having fun.

A knight, dressed in black armour, whose face is covered by a beautifully made black mask, and hair hidden, comes to the reunion last. He takes a glass of champagne and stands on the staircase looking at the crowd.

A strange guest, indeed. Tina can't remember who that might be, no matter how hard she tries. No-one can recall his name.

Steve Harrington is dressed as a king, of course, a golden crown on his amazing hair and a golden mask on his pretty face. He is laughing and having a great time.

Suddenly there is a lighting bolt striking outside and thunder roars over Hawkins. All the lights go out, people are scared, music stops and there are faint cries and murmurs.

Tina goes to find some candles. When she and a couple of her friends return carrying candlesticks

Faint cries turn into loud terrified yells.

There are four words written on the white wall.

Is it red paint ? .. Or is it crimson blood? ..

You hurt my baby

Steve Harrington is nowhere to be seen, as well as the strange black knight.

***

*The baby is the camaro. Billy never forgot.

Whose blood is on the wall? Is Steve dead? Was the black Knight Billy Hargrove? Is he a ghost or is he alive? Where did Billy take Steve? What is going to happen? Whatever happened to the camaro four years ago?

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove imagine #hawkins reunion a-la harringrove

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atinylittlepain · 2 months

Text

Atlantic City

college!steve harrington x f!oc

part of the girl boy universe

wordcount | 3.2K

content info | 18+ smut, WASPy parental trauma, misogynistic father boooooo, little angst, New Jersey, mostly fluff though

a/n | special thanks to orange anon who isn't anon anymore - apologies this one took a while :')

.........................................................

He can’t sleep. He’s in the plaid room again, close and quiet and suddenly he’s small, young, swallowed up by the thin pall of the past. And if he’s being honest, he’s not sure if this was such a good idea, but Andy’s not even here for him to tell her that. Down the hall in the guestroom because his mother hadn’t even given them the chance to protest that no, both adults, no, same room is fine. She had already dropped Andy’s bag in the guest room and his bag in the plaid room and given him a pointed look about the whole thing that meant silence, he knows it well.

And he’s considering it, he is, padding down the hallway and slipping in under the covers with her, breathing her in and breathing the detergent his mother has used since he was little out. But something is stopping him, keeping him tangled and curled up in the plaid room, that smalling, that suddenly twelve again thing.

They had flipped a coin before spring break. Which set of parents would be met first, and nobody was winning, really, in this situation. Andy took it in stride when it became clear they’d be paying a visit to Chip and Diane Harrington, shrugging, dramatic warbling of that John Mellencamp song, a little ditty about Chip and Diane, two American kids causing parental trauma in the Heartland. He had laughed at the time. He’s not really laughing now.

Dinner had been as tense and tight as a closed fist. At first, his parents had behaved like Andy wasn’t even there, directing all their questions, all their scrutiny onto him, the usual rundown of yes, decent grades, and yes, how great, the post-grad job he has lined up, yes, mom, yes, dad. And when their attention turned to Andy, never one to back down, ever, the conversation had curdled from a question about her thesis to her asking Diane about her multiple admissions to the state hospital for “exhaustion,” air quotes necessary to connote the dose of skepticism Andy parceled around the word while Chip glared at her and Diane grew skittish, smiling nervous and talking in that high, airy voice of hers.

Steve had managed to steer far enough away from that with a tact that can only be found in the children of parents like Chip and Diane, always on the defense in that way. But when they had gone up to bed, his father had stopped him, hand curled, clawed, on his shoulder and I’m not sure about this one, champ. Not sure about this one, right, and got a mouth, doesn’t she? Something else was said about a firm hand and a tight leash while his stomach started to swirl and sicken. He didn’t say anything, just nodded, the smallest okay, dad, goodnight, dad, and he hates himself for that, tossing and turning in his twin bed because he hates that he didn’t, what? Defend her? Snap and snarl back against the closing hand, closing jaw of his dad? Not that Andy needs anyone to defend her, not that it matters what Chip thinks, not really, but still, but still.

He’s not sure how long he’s been lying there when his door cracks open, the muffled sound of footsteps, a hand curling on his hip, skating up to his ribs and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder, just inches to the very edge of his bed to make as much room as he can for her to slip in behind him, her palm coming to rest splayed over the center of his chest, her lips pressed to the nape of his neck as she settles around him.

“I’m sorry, I think I was a dick to your mom.”

“It’s okay, she’s so heavily medicated I don’t think she’ll remember it in the morning.” She hums, her legs tangling up close with his, perfectly curled into and around each other and barely fitting on this stupid twin bed, but it’s the greatest relief to have her here with him, like the walls aren’t closing in, like his ribs aren’t pinching and pulling taut, her palm over his heart reminding him to pump blood like this, breathe like this. And when she presses a kiss to the shell of his ear, for whatever reason, that’s the thing that finally breaks the thick heat swelling and stuck behind his eyes, water starting to pool and spill, turning his vision into stained glass.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He tries to speak, but a strange sound breaks in his throat instead, a little like a sob, but softer, her hands holding him through the shake.

“I always forget how much I hate being here.” And that is but isn’t all of it. Yes, he forgets how much he hates being here, but he also forgets how small he feels being here, how young. He forgets the fights, and the silence that was somehow worse. He forgets the seemingly constant alternation in those last few years of sleeping in Eddie’s or Robin’s bed simply because he didn’t like being small and alone in this big house. And it’s a good thing, he thinks, that he can forget about these things in the new life he has. But it’s difficult to remember that the plaid room and the silence isn’t his life any more when he’s back in it like he is now.

“Am I making it better or worse being here right now?”

“Better, please stay.” She holds him a little tighter, little closer, her other hand brushing his hair back from his face and of course, baby, of course I’ll stay, and he can’t even feel all that foolish for crying in front of her because she’s not like that about these things, and it plainly feels too good to be held by her for him to think about much else than her hands and the warmth of her body against his.

“Do you want to leave?”

“Right now?”

“Well, I was thinking in the morning. Don’t want those two thinking I kidnapped you and like, ritually sacrificed you to Courtney Love or something. But I’m also not opposed to leaving now if you really want to.” He turns over just enough that he can look at her, the soft curve of her smile, nothing but care, no judgment, no recoil when she sees his bleary eyes, the pull of his frown. She cups his face in her hand, thumb stroking at stray salt beneath his eye, and he knows that she would do it, if he said he wanted to leave right now, she would do it, pack both of their bags and toss them in the car and get them the hell out of here before his parents even woke up. How lovely, how devastating, to be loved like this, to be loved by her.

“My mom said she wanted to take you shopping tomorrow.”

“Steve, to be frank, I don’t really give a fuck about what your mom wants right now.”

“Where would we go, back to your place?”

“We could, but Robin and her girlfriend are watching Sylvia until the end of the week so really, we could go wherever we want to. Anywhere else you want to go?”

“Anywhere?”

“Yeah, I’m paying for gas, dream big, we’ve got a whole week to kill.” And by some strange unfurling in his mind, the first place he thinks of is Cape May, New Jersey, an errant memory of a family vacation, a good memory, young memory, warm and rare memory. Small town and candy-coated storefronts and the beach, of course, the beach. He remembers spending most of that week blowing his allowance on ice pops and roaming the pier alone, sticky hands and sugar-sour stomach, threading through throngs of too tall and too tan legs. He remembers pure, unfettered joy. And if Andy has any qualms about New Jersey she does a good job of hiding it, smiling and alright, baby, we ride at dawn. They don’t really sleep, just curl up close and plot out their grand escape until the light is starting to turn pale and thin, and the plaid room becomes something other than a cage.

She takes care of it in the morning, takes no prisoners and leaves no room for questions, breezes into the kitchen on a long sigh and Robin called, something’s wrong with Sylvia, and he does his best not to laugh as he oh no, should we go back? and Andy’s gosh, I feel terrible, but yeah, we probably should, a veritable production right under the rims of Chip and Diane’s coffee mugs. They get their bags into the trunk of his car in record time while Andy coddles and coos oooh, I’m really sorry, Chip, Diane, but it was lovely to meet you, Chip, Diane, oooh in June? Hmm, I think we’ll both be a little too busy, but thank you, Chip, Diane, let’s not and say we didn’t. That last part, muttered under a quick breath as she ducks down into the passenger seat. He makes a mental note to thank Robin for calling his parents’ house, after he called her and asked her to do exactly that earlier in the morning.

They don’t look at each other until they’re back on the highway heading east, grins splitting into laughter, Andy leaning over the console to press a smacking kiss to his cheek.

“To Jersey, baby.”

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Well, I try. Let’s switch off when we reach Cincinnati, alright?”

And, well, the truth is they didn’t think this through, at least not as well as they thought they had. They stop more times than they should, don’t even make it to Cincinnati before breakfast beckons. A crueler for him, coffee with cream, and a maple bar for her, her coffee black, perfect shards of sugar sifting and snowing over the dash of his car, a little sick and a little giddy kick in their stomachs. A handful of stops in Ohio too, gas stations and rest stops and an admitted music shop because they’ve run out of fresh cassettes by the time they pass through Akron. And Pennsylvania, forget it. A delirious afternoon haze, a strange conversation about the Amish, the lingering smell of pickles from the burgers they shared for a late lunch. But after their third or fourth driver seat switch, Andy starting to nod off on the passenger’s side, he realizes a bit idly that he hasn’t really stopped smiling since they left Indiana.

For the record, they never make it to Cape May. The sun has already set, leaving a vivid wash of orange bruising into blue by the time they’re driving through Atlantic City, and they both seem to have the same thought at the same time. Yeah, like the Springsteen song. So they scrap Cape May and car crawl down to the beach, and it’s cold, March, wind bitten and bitter, and dark, and they cling to each other, hands tucked in close against ribs and chin tucked toward chin as they flirt closer to the water. And because it’s cold, and because it’s dark, they’re the only ones out here on this gray-blue stretch of beach, the slow thrum of the water breathing in and out. Andy grins at him and he feels young in a new way, and when she wordlessly starts shrugging out of her shoes and popping the button of her jeans, of course, he follows suit.

It’s cold, bracingly so, all the air shuttering up still in his lungs, up to his shins, then his thighs, then his hips, Andy holding his hand and it doesn’t count if you don’t get your hair wet before she’s dipping under the dark ink of water, resurfacing with a burst and break of laughter, her hair slicked back and the pooling water on her skin shimmering and shining in the distant light of the city. He does it too, with a yelp, a yawp, coming back up for air to the sound of her laugh and then they’re sprinting out just as fast as they dared and daunted in, teeth chattering as they pull their clothes on over damp skin.

“We’re probably gonna catch some kind of flesh-eating disease from that water.” Shivering words that are almost drowned out by the wheezing roar of the heat turned all the way up in his car, he has to laugh, a little bleary eyed while she winds and weaves through the city streets, eyes peeled for a hotel.

“At least we’ll go out together.”

“Knew you were gonna say something like that. So romantic, we can put ointment on each other’s matching rashes.”

“Well when you put it that way.” Matching grins, turned giddy and bold, and they smell like the sea, and that’s less lovely than it sounds. They smell like brine, like snapping cold, his nose burning a little with it, eyes red-rimmed and weary, but still smiling, her hand in his over the console.

They end up getting a room at a motel with so many lights burned out in its vacant rooms sign that all that’s left is the red neon glow of CAN. It’ll do. A shower for both of them, because when she starts pressing kisses to the soft hook of his jaw, she laughs, you’re salty, Jesus Christ. And she wasn’t wrong, boyish and a little brash when he licks a stripe up the side of her neck, smacking his lips in a barely contained grin while she squawks and squirms. So, a shower, skin tacky and warm, and he feels like something perfect, something preening, is unfurling in his chest as he watches her lay out on the coarse sheets of the bed, bare, the soft spread of her hips, shadows bending and breaking in warm lamplight. She smiles at him, her chin tucked down and shoulder hiked, chipped purple nail polish trailing a line of want from her navel up and up between her breasts, along her clavicle. It becomes more clear to him every time he sees her like this that yes, he’s a goner.

“Hi.”

“Hi, baby, you feeling good?”

“Yeah, you?” She hums, mmhmm, rolling her lips back to hide the stretch of her smile, palms splaying along his ribs when he settles between her thighs, breathing in the close heat of each other. And there are words he would like to say, though they fail him, this feeling too big and buoyant to wrap language around. Good love, giddy love, turning to fizz and foam, and he thanks her, thank you for today, with his mouth pressed into her sternum, nose grazing up along line and ligament, the catch of breath in her throat, her smile.

They move with a patience that’s new to them both. In the early days, the beginning, when they were both still skirting around the edges of this being something serious, there was also a tinge of something a little frantic, a little fear and frenzy laced into their fingertips because, no, never sure if that time, or that time, or that time, would be the last. But neither of them are worried about that any more, whispered promises and easy comforts, staying, and certain in it. For the long haul, for it all. So now, now, they can take their time.

And this is different too, at least for him. He had gotten used to, and good at, the performance of things like this, the putting on of things like this, move like this, moan like this, bodies fitted with bodies for particular outcomes. Andy had seen right through that early on, turning the tables, quick spin and her hands on his chest and an easy grin, and he was no longer thinking about the aesthetics of it, of what should follow what, wrapped up in the sense and sate, and now he blushes when she tells him he makes the prettiest sounds for her, pretty, pretty, pretty, my pretty boy.

Her palms soothe presence into his spine, here, like this, be here, like this, and there’s a beat every time his hips settle against hers, a hiccup, a breath, how nice it feels to be with her, to be feeling this with her, both of them sighing, little keening cries that flicker into breathless laughter because how absurd, how obscene for them to have something as good as this. And he knows that they are the same in this way, two people convinced that no, never anything good like this, not for them, and now getting away with something good like this, good for them, and only them, and only theirs.

The soft inside of her knee pressed against his hip makes easy movement out of turning them in the sheets, languid limbs and him on his back and her draped over him, the curve of her spine and the taut line of her neck when her head tips back, pooling light like flecks of gold and he puts his hand there, there, curled close at the front of her throat, not taking anything, but in fact asking, and accepting. Her hips roll, liquid and lovely, dark hair curled damp between her thighs, and it’s something better than art, he thinks. She sighs his name when his hand slips heavy down to cup the weight of her breast, just because he can, pleasure because he can. Like that, like that, they unravel for each other in the close stillness of the night, and stitch back together in the hazy aftermath, her cheek pressed over the battering ache of his heart, all hers.

“Can I ask you something about your parents?” Her chin propped on her forearm, voice barely above a whisper. He nods, his palm stopping its circuit in the dip of her spine.

“How did they meet?”

“High school, I’m pretty sure.”

“I didn’t think that actually happened.”

“I don’t think it does any more, it probably shouldn’t have between those two.”

“Hmm, made a good kid, at least. Though I think that has more to do with you than it does with them.” And then, an afterthought, agonizingly sweet, her knuckles brushing along his cheek, you made it out, you know, and he does, presses a kiss to the pads of her fingers, making that knowing real.

“What about yours?” Roll of her eyes and sigh, the same, but different.

“Two big Boston families, one marriage of sensibility. Add in a little catholic guilt and you end up with five kids and no hope of divorce any time soon.” She says it with half of a smile, a weak laugh that sounds like something else, something tired and trying. He doesn’t push though, doesn’t ask any more. She’ll tell him when she’s ready, he knows. Instead he nods and says a few simple words that sound a lot like what she told him. Getting out, both of them, making something new for themselves, together.

“You think they’ll like me?”

“I don’t know, I don’t care. I’m not even gonna ask if you think yours liked me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” His words crackle and curl with his smile, relief in those words, in believing them. She smiles and something warm splits open in his chest, her palm pressed there like she knows.

“No, baby, it doesn’t.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington au #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction

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