There is a knock at Steve Harrington’s door.

Three to be exact.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

It’s nothing new. This happens every night. It doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

Steve gets out of bed and walks over to his apartment door, hands hovering over the handle. His body shakes, he feels too cold for a July evening.

Steve doesn’t bother looking out of the peephole. He knows there will be nothing to see. He hopes briefly it’s the awkward girl from down the hall, she always wears beat up converse and can hear her raspy laugh two doors down—but he knows it’s not. She often speeds by Steve’s apartment door, like she’s either terrified of him or what’s inside his home.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Three knocks, three times. It’s only number two.

Steve wishes he knew more people here, but he hasn’t been here very long. So no one is looking for him, no one is here to wake him up at 3 am.

His palm sweat—but the chill hasn’t left him. He’s starting to think he’s haunted. Though nothing ever happens inside. Nothing happens at all, except the knocking. Steve never dares to open until it’s finished.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Steve takes a deep breath, and opens the door….

No one is there.

Releasing a stuttering breath, Steve gently locks up and puts his head on then door.

“Fuck.” He whispers.

Then he hears, it from his bedroom.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Steve’s let something inside.

More fun in here!

(And believe me, there's more fun in there)

Another day another birthday drabble for @penny00dreadful (IM ON TIME YAY) prompt: rockstar

While Eddie Munson’s lips have been sealed for comment, photos from last night prove they’re anything but when it comes to his new beau.

Eddie Munson and his new mystery man were spotted again last night, this time on the streets of Chicago, hand in hand as they made their way to Munson’s residence. While the rockstar took great care to hide his man’s identity, covering him in his own suit jacket and continuously stepping in the way of photographers, the two were seemingly incapable of waiting for privacy as paparazzi were able to snap several pictures of the two clearly locking lips in a move many are finding reminiscent of Munson’s maybe not-so-former licentious ways.

This is the first time the public has seen frontman Eddie Munson with anyone for more than a few weeks since his volatile breakup with director Jonathan Byers nearly five years ago, and fans and haters alike have been speculating ever since on whether or not he’d settle down again.

for @thefreakandthehair and inspired by this. Everyone enjoy some bee keeper!Eddie saving the day so Steve can play some baseball

Eddie picked up beekeeping the way he picked up most things in his life: accidentally and by virtue of following a crumb of serotonin straight down the rabbit hole of obsession. It isn't what he expected to do for a living, and at this point he does have to admit that when it accounted for 91% of his taxable income last year it is what he does for a living, but he likes that he gets to work outside and set his own hours. He likes that the regular customers he has who buy his honey are nice, and likes getting to advise people about things like flavor profiles and what they taste best with, it was the thing he liked best about his position at the dispensary that was now more of a side gig. And then there's his contract with city animal control that gets him called out to parts of the city he didn't even know existed to relocate hives a lot more often than he thought would happen.

It's a good life, and he likes that he's made it himself.

But it's the kind of life that gets him calls from people late at night when trying to finish binging Fallout before the internet can spoil it for him. He has a rule to always answer when Chrissy calls though, he isn't going to miss helping her if it's an emergency.

“I need a favor,” she says before he's even finished answering.

“Anything for you,” he agrees.

“You might regret saying that.”

not a top

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘top’

rated e | 510 words | cw: recreational drug use, questionable consent if you squint really hard and close both eyes due to the previously mentioned recreational drug use | tags: unclear relationship at the beginning, anal fingering, anal sex

🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝

“So you’re…not a top?” Eddie asked Steve, high enough to forget how they got on this topic at all, but not high enough to ever forget the way Steve’s hand hadn’t left his thigh for the last ten minutes.

Sweet Home Indiana Part 2

Hello! My elbow was doing better this morning and then I took a nap and hurt it again somehow...(head desk) so I'm still putting out my backlog without being able to build up more because of it, hopefully it gets better before I run out of backlog because that would be embarrassing.

Here we get some backstory as Eddie strolls back into Steve's life.

Pt 1

****

When Robin came into open the store she found Steve wearing the clothes he had been wearing the night before. None of the bread dough was rising, none of the cookies were baking having not even been made, the cakes were out on the cooling racks instead in the freezer to chill enough to have frosting put on them.

He was curled up next to their large stand mixer dubbed the Beast, cradling his sides like he was trying to hold in his innards.

“Steve...” she called out gently.

Steve looked up at her and her heart broke. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks tear-stained and blotchy. Snot ran down his nose and pooled on his upper lip.

She sighed and then turned around. She hunted around for a marker and a piece of paper. She wrote that they were closed for the day and hung it up outside the front door. She locked it behind her and went to go sit down next her best friend.

Steve laid his head on her shoulder and sighed.

“Eddie’s getting married.”

Continuation of birthday drabbles for @penny00dreadful, prompt: crack (IM GONNA BE ON SCHEDULE FROM NOW ON)

“Steve,” Eddie whines, voice high and breathy and feverish, “please, my beloved, come closer.”

“I’m not burning dinner so I can check your forehead. It’s the same as it was twenty minutes ago.” Steve stirs the soup, and Eddie whines louder.

“I can see the light, dearest mine,” his boyfriend moans, and Steve hears the thunk as Eddie rolls off the couch.

Steve does not look up from the soup.

“Please,” Eddie sniffles, out of Steve’s line of sight, “bury me next to my uncle, under the apple tree so children might one day find joy upon my grave.”

“Wayne’s not dead.” Steve deadpans, lifting his face from the soup to grab the bread he’d bought on his way home, laying two slices out on a baking try and slathering them with butter, “and I think he might find issue with you saying—”

“Make my funeral be not a solemn affair,” Eddie goes on, interrupting him, “but a celebration of my life which was cut so very short.” He hacks a particularly dramatic cough, and Steve slides the bread under the broiler.

“Will do, babe.” Steve goes on, finding the strength to humor him, “I’ll make sure they play Megadeath as they lower you into the ground.”

“Traitor!” Eddie croons, “my most trusted beloved, betraying me so wholly as to play the turncoats tunes during my body’s final hours upon this earth!”

Steve pulls the soup from the burner, and takes two bowls from their cabinet. “Parsley on yours?”

Eddie pauses. “Only a little.”

I really need to finish No Regrets..... just for you!

Eddie was all about desecrating corpses. 

Particularly, the huge ones--and nothing was larger than the burnt out husk of Starcourt. 

Yellow caution tape, muddied and ripped from its time in the weather still decorated parts of the doors. 

The place used to be crawling with security, but that had eased off now, the job returning to a local outfit rather than the smooth and swift guards who previously haunted the joint in pairs. 

It was easy as two days spent camped out in his van, watching the main entrance and a few side doors. In no time at all, Eddie had schedules memorized, points of entry selected and even three possible escape routes should things get dicey.

He didn't expect them to. 

Rated E • cw: under negotiated kink, semi-public sex, accidental subspace • read on ao3

Eddie groaned dramatically when he was sent over to Steve Harrington’s team. Skipping out on gym class most of the beginning of the semester meant he needed to be here now and show Coach that he wanted to pass. He was going to fucking graduate this year if it killed him.

Help me get away from myself

He found himself looking at Steve in their quick huddle between plays of the flag football game though, realizing Steve’s passion and energy was seeping into him.

“Munson, cover Derek and keep an eye on me, I’ll toss it to you if I need to.”

Following directions had never been Eddie's strong suit. But for some reason, he found himself hanging on Steve’s every demand, biting his lip and nodding because he couldn’t trust his voice from wobbling if he answered. He could listen and make Steve proud of him. He could be whatever Steve wanted him to be.

makeup artist youtuber steve who gets famous and does interviews with celebrities while doing their makeup

rockstar eddie who released a grungy eyeshadow palette and does a video with steve to promote it and their chemistry is crazy and all the comments are shipping them

the kick is that eddie didn’t even know he’d be going on steve’s show, jeff asked their manager to set it up because steve did a solo review of eddie’s palette and they’ve all been teasing eddie about watching steve’s video over and over

now they’re all watching eddie get flustered as steve softly touches his face and holds him by the chin, complimenting his eyes and letting him ramble about music and what he likes to wear on stage because steve is actually a really good interviewer

and his last question comes after the cameras shut off and he asks for eddie’s number

The cow has been hugged

eddie rubs his hands together as their waitress, cindy, sets his breakfast sampler and strawberries and cream crepes in front of him. he's already reaching for the ketchup and maple syrup to drown his food in.

steve thinks it's too early for him look that gleeful in the middle of an ihop. it's barely nine in the morning.

"give me a shout if you boys need anything else," cindy says as she sets down steve's smokehouse combo and new york cheesecake pancakes. "i'll be over to top your coffee off in a minute."

"thank you, cindy," they call as she walks away.

steve takes a sip of his coffee and watches eddie pop open the ketchup to smother his eggs and hashbrows with, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his lips.

he resists the urge to lean across the table and kiss him, only because they're in public and steve also doesn't want to risk getting food all over the front of his shirt.

but when eddie squeezes the bottle, it makes a farting noise and all the comes out is a watery splash of red.

"aw no." eddie's face falls into an adorable pout. "not the ketchup pre-cum."

steve sputters and almost sucks his coffee back up his nose. he catches his breath and gives eddie a bewildered stare, but the other boy is focused on smacking the lid of the bottle against his palm.

"i'm sorry—the what?"

eddie finally looks up at him with round eyes, completely clear of any of the confusion that is definitely showing on steve's face currently.

"the ketchup pre-cum," he says, like steve should know what that is. "you know, the watery bits that squirt out if you don't shake the bottle good enough? kind of looks like pre-cu-"

"i know what pre-cum is," steve cuts him off with a sigh, casting glances around to the other tables to see if anyone else overheard him. "but do you have to call ketchup that?"

eddie only snickers at him. when he's satisfied that it's been shaken to his standards, he snaps open the cap and tries again–

–and lets out a high pitched moan when ketchup comes dribbling out of the bottle.

steve chokes on his spit. they're definitely getting stares from other tables now, and he hides his burning face in his hands while eddie just laughs harder, like the teasing little asshole he is.

"jesus christ," steve murmurs under his breath, dragging his fingers down his face. "can't fucking take you anywhere, i swear."

eddie just gives him a little hum and nudges his foot under the table, looking every bit pleased as goddamn punch.