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#robin dream moment
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just remembered i once had a dream where snufkin was royalty and proposed to me and i did this like really dramatic “its not a no................. its a not yet............................  😔 💔 “ type rejection and he was like super heartbroken and i had to comfort him really upset this was y/n and not snufmin like god damn where was moomintroll in all of this
WAS I MOOMINTROLL????????? BHASSAGSA??????????/
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fanaticalthings · 12 days
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I really like the idea of the bat kids designating Dick and Jason's apartments as sibling gathering spots but for opposite reasons.
Sibling needs some comfort? Some eldest daughter advice? A shoulder to cry on or just a lil getaway spot from the chaos of Gotham? Dick's apartment is perfect.
But if a batkid wants to complain, maybe wants to talk shit about Bruce, or maybe even wants to discuss a lil felony in a judgement free zone? Jason's place it is.
And I like to imagine that while Dick readily keeps his doors open and reminds anyone that they can drop by anytime, it's the opposite for Jason.
Dude's got his place riddled with traps and locked up to the high heavens. He makes it obvious he doesn't want visitors, and vaguely insinuates that there are bombs rigged somewhere in his apartment so there's a always a 50/50 chance you might get blown up if he's feeling particularly bitchy one day.
But does that stop his siblings? Absolutely not. Unlike Dick (who assigns himself as the guiding older brother), Jason has been forcefully labelled as the older sibling you go to if you need to complain and stir up havoc. The hundreds of traps in his place mean nothing. And it's worse because Jason is never prepared for when someone drops in.
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[Jason, 3 hours into his sleep, blearily waking up to a weight on his chest at 4am]:
[Damian, perched atop him, eyes dead-centre locked onto Jason without blinking]: Hello, Todd-stop screaming it is unbecoming-I just came to tell you that father won't allow me to adopt another stray I found on patrol.
Jason, half-asleep and like 70% sure he's hallucinating: Wha-
Damian: I need you to blow up his car.
Jason:
-----
[Jason, arriving home after a 6 hour patrol, exhausted out of his mind, turning on the lights]:
[Stephanie, previously baking brownies in the pitch black darkness before Jason arrived]: Oh hey! Just thought I'd drop by, y'know, for fun.
Jason: Bruce yelled at you again.
Stephanie: Bruce yelled at me again.
And yes, while most of the time, it ends up as wholesome sibling bonding, sometimes the other batkids just feel like inconveniencing Jason just whenever, because what are siblings for?
[Jason waking up and seeing all of his traps and security systems disarmed and very deliberately broken in a way where he'll have to replace all of them instead of being able to reactivate them]:
[Jason, immediately dialing his phone angrily]: Tim, I swear to GOD-
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[Jason giving himself a rest-day and cooking some meals]:
[Dick somersaulting in through the open window unannounced (he missed his brother)]: Whatcha up to, littlewing? :>
Jason: GET OUT-
-----
[Jason casually reading a book, feeling a sudden chill up his spine]:
[Cassandra standing in the corner without so much as an exhale, watching Jason intensely. Who knows how long she's been there]:
Jason: Are you here to kill me
Cass:
Jason: Just make it quick.
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romancemedia · 6 months
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Disney Couples + Snuggling Together
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beanghostprincess · 7 months
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we gotta start giving luffy more credit for his emotional intelligence and empathy because i don't think y'all are aware of how fucking smart this lil dude really is
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densewentz · 8 months
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guys in an incredibly funny turn of events I am on the cusp of figuring out how to lucid dream and its mostly because since I've gotten into Sandman I dream sometimes feat. Dream of the Endless who I KNOW as the King of Dreams IN-dream. So I'll be sitting there watching this scrunkly guy in my dream going "oh shit that's the Dream King, holy shit am I dreaming?-" and then I usually get yoinked out but. Girl we gettin there. We gettin there in an incredibly ironic way but.
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uraniumglassgirl · 1 year
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will say one piece is by no means the best story in the world but it definitely holds the record for the amount of times any kind of art has made me cry. that shit has had me bawling easily 20 times in like 350 something episodes
EDIT: i counted it was 33 times in about 350 episodes so like. once every 10 episodes on average
#second place goes to last words of a shooting star by mitski :muscle:#sigh. dog from orange town usopps moms death kuinas monologue kuinas death. donkriegs first mate starving to death sanjis backstory.#zoros defeat from mihawk. nojikos death nami getting the courage to ask luffy for help. i am on like episode 30 at this point in these tags#i have cried easily like 4 seperate times at the zoro backstory just thinking abt it and rewatching it#labboons self harm and then his resolution to meet with luffy again.#like 3 seperate times in drum island. when chopper got all beaten up trying to fetch the mushroom.#dr hiriluks speech/death. then whenever chopper runs down the mountain to join the strawhats#alabasta really didnt make me cry but i like zoros littl emoment to shine in his fight a lot#the blackbeard speech about dreams.#the flashback with noland and like twice regarding that little girl who just wanted to have a couple of handfuls of dirt.#and fucking water 7/enies lobby#i do not know how many times i cried that arc.#usopp getting beaten up. frankys backstory. usopp/luffys fight. cried at least like 5-6 times thinking about usopp leaving crew.#robins backstory twice both when her mom died and when she set out to sea and kept doing that silly little laugh.#the 'i want to live' moment. the going merrys death montage thingy.#at this point im lik pretty early into fuckin. thriller bark and no tearful moments yet#im gonna go back through these tags and count.#33#jeez louise!#idk if its a very emotionally poignant show or if i have just been more tearful as of late. idk.
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zincbot · 9 months
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I LOVE THE EAST BLUE CREW
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deadsetobsessions · 5 months
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Danny Fenton is so damn sick of rich fruit loops. It’s worse now, since he’s one of them.
It’s not Vlad that he’s with, thank the Ancients, but Danny isn’t sure that this is better.
Because he’s Timothy Drake, a baby, and he’s been reincarnated after the Ancient of Reincarnation accidentally drank too much wine.
He’s going to kick their ass so hard when he gets back.
Danny huffs. He rolls over, ignoring the silent manor. Sure, he’s read the comics. Sure, he laughed and imagined being adopted by Batman- come on, Danny had black hair and blue eyes even back then, he was totally adoption bait- when his parents gave him reason to lose trust in their love. But that’s it, that’s all he thought it was. A day dream, a wish for a universe that didn’t exist.
Danny hadn’t understood the reality of the whole Infinite Realms thing, a place he was now the King of. Batman? Real. Danny? Reincarnated. Hotel? Trivago.
Like, this wasn’t what he meant, dammit.
And now he’s stuck as Timothy Drake, and Ancients, he was starting to see parallels.
——
Danny tried photography. He really did. He wanted to at least stick to the source material. But that’s not who he is. Even with the shiny new brain that memorized, catalogued, and put together clues at the snap of his fingers, but Danny’s never been one to take photos. It’s a respectable art, for sure, but Danny preferred to live in the moment instead of capturing it to remember forever. It’s just-
He watched the Graysons fall. He watched Dick Grayson turn into Robin. And Danny can’t and won’t ever betray his Obsession like that, ever again. He can’t let Jason die for his “story” to begin. That’s not how Danny works.
He’s there to protect.
Danny hasn’t ever been just Tim. Danny was also Tim and the Ghost King without a haunt. But now? Gotham is his haunt. He, in lieu of an actual city spirit, is Gotham. He’s also a Drake. And Drakes were meant to hoard.
Batman and Robin? They are his.
He claimed them, as a Drake. But that claim is weak. So he claimed them as their city, and that is a claim that will never be able to be challenged.
Danny’ll be damned before he allows some lanky starved clown beat the life out of one of his Robins. So, for the first time in his nine years on this planet, Tim-Danny goes ghost and flies.
“Who- who. Are you?” Robin slurred from his place in Danny’s hold. He is broken, yes. But not dead. Danny infuses some of his vitality, his ecto, into Jason’s injuries to help them heal.
“Gotham.” Danny replied, layering his ghostly voice with those of the city.
“Goth’m?”
“Gotham. Sleep, little bird. Your city has got you.”
When Robin, Jason, settled with a sense of trust that tugs at Danny’s core, Danny carried him to Batman, whose eyes were wild and manic. He glared menacingly at the green and white ghost in front of him, who was holding his broken and beaten son-
Well, it’d be menacing if Danny hadn’t watched him eat bricks and mortar, crashing into a building while using his grappling gun.
“You-”
“I am Gotham.” Danny cut him off. Despite his wary nature and natural paranoia, Batman settled at his city’s gaze rested on him. Danny knew that Batman recognized his city. Batman’s head bowed, but his eyes stayed on Robin. “You were supposed to take care of Robin.”
“I- I know.” And that voice was all Bruce Wayne the Dad instead of Batman the Vigilante. Danny gently placed Robin in Batman’s arms, taking in the tremors as he held his son close.
“Go back, Bruce. And make sure Jason knows how much you love him.”
He laughed as Bruce whipped his head upwards. “I am your city. You are mine as much as I am yours. I’ve known of you before you were born.”
Technically? Not untrue. But Bruce will chalk it up to weird magic shit. It’s not like it’s a secret that Gotham’s kind of curse. Besides, this way, Danny will be able to help out more often. And Bruce won’t be able to connect Tim Drake to the “Spirit of Gotham.”
“Return, my knight. This is not your city. I can not protect you as well as I can in Gotham.”
“Thank you… Gotham.”
Danny sighed. He wondered when he’ll have to field questions from a John Constantine. He’s pretty sure Bruce will call in magical help, even if it was his own city he was investigating.
Batman’s lucky Danny liked him enough to allow it.
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moonsaver · 2 months
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You were his sister's enemy.
Well, he rather assumes it.
Robin defends you whenever he scorns at you, and simply mentions you as someone who just has trouble communicating. Sunday, on the other hand, does not take to your mannerisms politely. Although distance and discord within branches of The Family have long shifted his attention from his sister and their once joint dream, it doesn't mean his protectiveness of it has vanished.
Your singing was nowhere near as perfect as his sister's, he believes. Robin defends you, saying you're great in your own way, and both of you have different styles of singing. He comments on your more mature look with disdain, thinly admonishing it as vulgar, while Robin tries to convince him you just work under a sultry concept. Everything you did, it was never as good as Robin's, and whenever even a single track of yours threatened Robin's on the chart, Sunday would be displeased. According to him, you were competing for fame with Robin, and even the audacity of you to go such lengths was disdainful.
Robin, however, has been trying to convince Sunday to be on better terms with her lover.
He isn't exactly unnoticing of Robin's new lipstick that's in a different shade than what she'd normally wear. A new perfume that's oddly charming, but expensive, not exactly what he sees her picking out. Hair accessories that he's never seen in her drawers, nail polish he's never seen her wear before, a new fresh change to her voice that's making it livelier as of late, which is suspicious, considering all of this takes place simultaneously after she leaves your room.
It's not long until Sunday manages to get a quiet moment with you. Confrontation isn't foreign to him, and neither are implied, cordial threats that are already schemed within the front of his mind as he gently turns the handle to your door.
You greet him politely, as expected, and both of you get talking. He gauges you out, asking you specific and roundabout questions, eyes scrutinizing the familiar color of nail polish on your fingers that were once on Robin's, the half-used bottle of perfume thats slightly peeking out of the poorly hidden drawer which he's sure is something Robin would pick, the glossy, sticky tissue which he assumes you used to wipe off some sheer gloss, which you obviously don't wear.
He's hostile, and he doesn't quite hide it. Warning, teetering on edge, observing and calculating his next question and your responses with every second. But alas, he finally leaves you alone, and silently takes his leave.
-
Sunday hates you. And that is a hill he will surely die on.
Or rather.. what else would you call this ugly, seething feeling inside his chest?
Seeing your eyes soften, your smile quirk up on your usually stoic face, your lazy, languid hands finding their usually hiding spot, tucked onto Robin's waist.
It makes him seethe seeing you do those things with his sister.
Or really, anything you do.
The laugh you share with an overly friendly employee, the side glance, silent communication with some of your audio-managing team, the playful pinching of your cheeks by another singer that's far too comfortable with you.
Your actions are.. despicable. Sure they are. And he starts questioning just why. He deludes himself with any reason that is clearly beyond rationale, and barely constrains a scoff when you try and ask him about his dampened mood.
Of course, he should find them despicable when they're done to him, too. But he doesn't.
And it's even more infuriating. He smiles softly and laughs at some of your words, playfully bumps you from time to time, and chuckles when you return the favor. He feels special when you make certain eye gestures, remember a few inside jokes, and wink at him to keep them a secret. And once he returns to his solitary confinement, it dawns on him, and he should be grinding his teeth to dust from the absolute fury you supposedly induce in him.
But he doesn't.
He's only left with a light feeling in his heart, which slightly, mournfully dampens when he sees you do the same with Robin.
They've shared a dream once. Surely, they can share a love, too?
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say-al0e · 2 months
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Cling
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Rating: M | This is smut! Minors, DNI! No one under 18!
Summary: For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have been close. What others see as clingy, Steve sees as comforting, right? Or, you fell in love with your best friend and suddenly, everything is too much. Warnings: Unprotected PinV, oral (f!receiving), blink and you'll miss it angst. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Words: 5.5k
Though the sun had long disappeared, dipped below the horizon in a blaze of oranges and reds hours ago, the scent of artificial coconut and chlorine lingered as you lounged beside the Harrington pool.
The kids disappeared with Eddie the moment the sky tinted pink, off to finish a campaign they spent much of the day discussing, and Robin followed soon after with a weak excuse designed to hide her true destination of Vicky’s house - despite the fact that you all knew.
That left you and Steve, always the last two standing.
Steve stretched out on a lounge chair to your left - sunglasses resting atop his head, t-shirt forgotten somewhere in the backyard, garishly patterned swim trunks resting low on his hips. His eyes were closed, chest rising and falling evenly, though you knew he was far from sleep.
Regardless, you took the chance to study him in the rare moment of silence.
The apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose were tinted pink, not burned enough to cause concern but clearly effected by his time in the sun. His hair was wild and beginning to curl, free of gel and still a little damp from his last dip in the pool. The weeks of swimming, back in the pool where he spent so much time growing up, had toned his arms - his shoulders, his stomach, his thighs - and you could see the result of his resumed habits so clearly.
A swath of hair covered his chest, tapered into a faint line that disappeared into the band of his trunks, and you were struck by just how many times you’d been here - sitting to his right, smelling of chlorine and coconut. Over a decade of friendship, more than half your life, and you’d witnessed Steve go from a lanky boy to a confident twenty-something. 
Moments like this reminded you of why your best friend was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Hawkins and why, somewhere along the line, you joined the long list of those desperate for him to give you the time of day.
Only, you were lucky enough to be one of the few that had Steve’s full attention. There was little question that he knew everything - nearly everything, not this, never this - there was to know about you. Even less of a question that you would be sharing his bed later on, though not in the way you’d secretly started to want.
“Quit starin’ at me, creep.” Steve’s voice came then, before you could begin to spiral and question whether you could handle another night of sleeping beside him - wrapped in his embrace, his sheets, his scent - and you hummed.
“Just seeing if I need to get the aloe,” you teased, hoping it sounded as light as you meant it. “Should’ve listened to me, when I told you to put on sunscreen.”
Steve laughed. “You mean I should’ve sat still while you attacked me with it. I would’ve, if you’d given me some warning. Not nice to just start mauling a guy.”
“I know you dream about me mauling you.” The deflection was easy, reflexive, and accompanied by a laugh that rang a touch hollow in your own ears but Steve huffed, good-natured, anyway.
“Hm. Think that’s the other way around.” He cracked open an eye, then, and turned his head to glance at you while you reached for his half-empty beer in an effort to avoid meeting his eyes.
“Please,” you scoffed, though it was weaker than you intended. “I can’t get you to stop touching me.”
Despite his upbringing - or, really, because of it - Steve sought physical affection in those closest to him. It was true that he hadn’t stopped touching you over the course of your friendship, hugs and holding hands and cuddling on the couch. There was never any hesitation, never any awkward shuffling or adjusting. It was as natural as breathing, comfortable, and lately, you savored every brush of his skin against yours.
Still, Steve waved a dismissive hand and reached for the pack of cigarettes he discarded on the table after the kids left. “Sure.” He lit one, fixed you with a teasing grin as he took a drag. “Easy for you to say when you’re the clingiest person I know.”
The observation was not unkind. If anything, it was soft - fond. It was a joke he’d made before, once or twice, but the label ‘clingy’ struck a nerve that he likely had no idea even existed. One that hadn’t existed until recently.
There was a conversation that you weren’t supposed to hear. It was Eddie, asking the kids if he had a chance - whether you and Steve were, you know, a thing - and their varying responses. He only asked because of how close you were, he explained, how often Steve had an arm around you or you clasped his hand in yours.
Someone, you didn’t catch who because the words rang harsh in your ears, dismissed his concerns with the dreaded refusal, “Just friends.” Though another followed it with, “I’d be annoyed if I were Steve. She’s always all over him and they’re not even dating. So clingy.”
Eddie laughed, as did the others, and you waited just beyond the door for a few moments to pretend that you hadn’t heard.
After, you tried to distance yourself, if only a little, without arousing Steve’s suspicions. Despite being called clueless, unobservant or even stupid, despite his difficulty connecting the dots, there was little about you that escaped his notice. It was difficult to create space when none had existed since you were children and, clearly, you hadn’t done a very good job, anyway.
“Yeah, well, I’ll unstick myself from your side.” You intended the quip to be teasing, a joke that earned you a laugh or a soft swat as you passed him by, but it came out wrong. The words were acidic, tasted bitter in the back of your throat as they rolled off your tongue, and you could see him wince from the sting of them as you stood from your chair. “I’m gonna go shower,” you deflected, unable to look at him. “Chlorine’s burning my eyes.”
Steve sat upright as you gathered your towel and discarded clothes, your empty soda can and the tube of tropical sunscreen. He stubbed out his cigarette and reached out, hand searching for yours and coming up empty for the first time in a long time.
“Wait,” he urged, rising to his feet as you busied yourself with removing any trace of your presence from the immediate vicinity. “Did I… what did I say? Whatever it was, I didn’t -“ His brows furrowed as he lifted the hand you avoided and carded it through his hair, sighing when you winced at the sound of his sunglasses clattering to the ground.
“You didn’t - it’s nothing.” Steve tipped his head, an attempt to catch your eye as you blinked back the stinging sensation - chlorine, really, and overwhelmed, traitorous tears. “Just tired.”
From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of his face. He wore a concerned frown, warm eyes raking over your form as he recounted the last few moments, before he winced. “Oh. Shit. Hey, you know I’m joking,” he insisted, taking a half-step closer. And when you took a full step back, he frozen, uncertain - unused to the distance. “I didn’t mean it like that. You know I love it when you’re close to me. It’s nice. I’m not - that was a shitty thing to say.”
“It’s okay.” You waved him off, a dismissive hand held aloft for a moment before dropping to hold your towel close to your chest, and hoped he believed the crack in your voice was from the yelling you’d done earlier in the day. “It’s true, ’s’what everyone thinks, anyway.”
“What?” He looked confused, frown deepening as he tried again. He took a cautious step to close some of the distance and lifted a hand to reach out for you before thinking better of it. His hand fell to his side and you clutched the material in your arms tight to your chest to keep from reaching out yourself. “No one thinks that.”
“They do,” you confessed, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze as you forced a laugh. “They think it’s weird and sad and annoying that I’m, like, all over you. They think I’m, like, obsessed or something.” The admission was uttered casually, as easily as you could manage when your heart felt as if it might beat out of your chest, and Steve took another tentative step forward.
“Who said that?”
Though it was phrased as a question, it came out a demand. His expression shifted, flickered from soft concern to annoyance - not at you, very rarely at you - as he waited.
“I overheard the kids joking about it,” you told him with a sigh. “And back when you were dating Nancy, Tommy and Carol said something. So did Billy. It didn’t bother me then ‘cause Tommy and Carol and Billy were morons, but now, well… Maybe they were right. I - I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so… attached.”
Steve stepped closer then, insistent despite your feeble attempt to keep the distance, and reached out for you. One warm, large hand fell to your waist, fingers finding bare skin still warm from the sun while the other cupped your cheek. He was patient, soft, as he encouraged you to meet his eyes once more.
“They were total morons. I’m honestly surprised they paid enough attention to someone else to notice,” he huffed, rolling his eyes at the memory of your former friends. “And the kids, they’re just kids. They don’t - don’t listen to them, alright. I don’t think you’re clingy or annoying or sad or anything else. I think you’re my best friend and I like being close to you.”
Though it brought you comfort to hear how adamantly he denied thinking you were clingy - how adamantly he denied finding your constant presence annoying - the reminder that he only saw you as a friend did little to ease the roiling in the pit of your stomach. 
A fresh wave of traitorous tears stung at the backs of your eyes and you did your best to blink them away as you nodded. “Yeah,” you nodded, acknowledging him with a watery half-smile. “Okay.”
“Hey, I’m serious,” he asserted, dipping his head to search your face for the answer to a question he had yet to ask. “I want you close to me, like, all the time. Robin laughs at me but I don’t really know what to do when you’re not there. I like it when you hold my hand or sit on my lap. It… it makes me feel like you want me with you as much as I want to be with you.”
Though the lump in your throat persisted, though the tears still threatened to fall, you immediately reassured him. “Of course I want you to be with me. I love spending time with you.” You sighed, allowing yourself to melt into Steve’s touch. “It’s always been us.”
“Always has been, always will be,” he confirmed, smile soft but still a touch concerned. He hesitated for a moment, seeming to weigh his words for the first time in a long time, before he settled on asking, “What’s up, babe? Why’d it bother you so much?”
“It’s stupid.”
Immediately, Steve shook his head. He refused to allow you to wave it off, to dismiss the tease that clearly hurt your feelings, as his thumb stroked your cheek. “It’s not, not if it’s bothering you.”
“I just…” You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you attempted to gather your thoughts. Though Steve’s closeness would’ve brought you comfort under ordinary circumstances, it made it difficult for you to concentrate as your heart began to beat a touch too fast. “Just been thinking,” you finally began, choosing your words carefully. “It was fine when we were kids but, I mean, we’re adults now. What happens when one of your dates pays off and you find someone to fall in love with? Don’t think she’ll be too happy with, you know, this. It’s not like we can cuddle on the couch or have sleepovers for the rest of our lives.”
Steve remained quiet for a long moment - a silence that stretched on forever, thick and suffocating - and you swallowed the emotion clumping in the back of your throat before opening your eyes. You were met with his warm gaze, soft brown eyes flickering with an emotion you couldn’t quite read as he took a half-step closer.
“What if… I mean, we could.” Two words, and you felt frozen in uncertainty. Everything around you, everything outside of Steve, ceased to exist. You could feel your heart thudding heavily in your chest, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for him to elaborate. “The dates,” he began, now looking as nervous as you felt, “none of them have felt right. They don’t feel like this, like us. They don’t make me feel like you do.”
For months, you’d dreamt that Steve felt the same way. You imagined that somewhere, beneath the fond smiles and teasing jabs lingered the same nerves, the same butterflies, the same all-encompassing love. You imagined that his head was full of the same ‘what-if’s’ as you shared his bed, the same hope that you’d share the same bed for the rest of your life. You dreamt that he would one day confess his love and end your hopeless attempt at getting over him.
But now that it seemed within your grasp, so close you could practically feel his heart beating just as erratically as your own, it felt too good to be true.
“What does that mean?”
The question came as a whisper, afraid that if you spoke too loud you might break whatever spell had been cast over the backyard, but Steve heard it clearly. He met it with a half-smile as the hand on your hip began to trace nonsensical patterns across your skin - a nervous habit that made you feel as if your skin was on fire.
“Means that I want to keep holding your hand and having sleepovers,” he elaborated, voice soft in the still of the night. “Means that I… I don’t want to keep going on dates with anyone but you. Every time I think about the future, it changes - what I’m doing, where I live. But you’re always there and that’s all I want. I’ve been trying to pretend like I’m not in love with you but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Steve’s confession rang in your ears, crashed over you like a tidal wave, and left you unable to speak - unable to breathe. He waited, patient, understanding, as your racing thoughts scrambled in search of something coherent. But when you failed to gather anything resembling a complete sentence, you decided to allow your actions to speak for you.
In the way that you’d started to imagine as you drifted off to sleep, you dropped the items in your arms and lifted your hands to tangle in his hair to pull him in close. He smelled of summer - cigarettes, cheap beer, artificial coconut and chlorine - and something so unerringly Steve that you suddenly couldn’t imagine being this close to anyone else.
The hand on your cheek was encouraging, soft and warm as he tipped your chin, and you gave in to the urge you’d been fighting. With one step, you pressed yourself close - your chest meeting his, the warmth of his bare skin setting your nerve endings alight - and pressed your mouth to his.
Despite your expectations, there were no fireworks, no sparks or heavenly choirs, but there was an instant sense of comfort. Kissing Steve felt like coming home, warm and easy, as if you’d done it a thousand times before. 
There was no awkward shuffling, no tentative brushes of uncertain lips. Instead, you moved together seamlessly. His body slotted against yours perfectly, fit exactly as if you belonged there - together, intertwined. His lips were soft, as plush as you’d imagined, and his skin was so warm that you wondered if you would be branded with his touch before the night was over.
Though your fantasies varied - desperate kisses, eager to make up for lost time; filthy ones, a mess of lips and tongues and teeth, as you swapped spit and stumbled down a dark hallway toward his bedroom; soft kisses, designed to convey years of unspoken feelings - this kiss destroyed them all.
It was soft, slow and eager as you sought to become acquainted with the taste of one another, and laced with the underlying promise of a beautiful future.
Steve’s touch was eager, unrestrained and achingly familiar, as he held you close and swallowed the soft noises you made. Every breathless gasp and quiet sigh of pleasure, was met with a hum of his own as he slipped the hand on your cheek to the back of your neck.
Neither of you wanted the kiss to end, content to breathe in one another until your lungs collapsed, but the lack of oxygen and the reality of the situation had you feeling dizzy enough to break away. But as close as you’d always been, Steve kept you pressed tight to his body and rested his forehead against yours.
“Taking that to mean you’re in love with me, too,” he teased, breathless as he searched your face for any sign of regret, of hesitance. When he found none, he smiled - bright, happy, easy. “Totally not cool of me to admit, but I’ve wanted to do that forever.”
“You’ve never been cool, Stevie,” you returned, giggling as he pinched your side.
“Was gonna be nice,” he huffed, pretending to be put out though his grin never faltered as he shifted his head, brushed his nose against yours. “Tell you how pretty I think you are, how I want to spend the rest of my life with you; all that mushy stuff. But since you wanna be mean…”
Before you could blink, giggle out a teasing apology for your perceived slight, Steve’s arms fell to your waist. He held you close, lifted easily, and carried you the few steps to the edge of the pool. The moment you realized his intentions, the moment you opened your mouth to squeal out a plea for him to stop, Steve stepped over the edge and plunged you both into the water.
Even as you fell, sinking into the deep end, Steve kept you close. He hauled you both back up above the water, laughing as you huffed - thankfully used to this, almost expecting it as he attempted it every year.
“Steve!”
“What?” He grinned, dark hair dripping into his eyes as he guided you both into a more manageable depth and encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “All this could’ve been avoided if you’d just been nice to me,” he reasoned.
“I’m always nice to you, Stevie.” You weren’t - your friendship was an equal mixture of soft encouragement, soft words and even softer touches, and teasing jabs - but Steve hummed, just the same. “But I can be even nicer.”
“Know what would be really nice?” When you hummed, Steve returned a hand to cup your cheek - tipping your head to meet your eyes, only a hint of insecurity swirling amongst the warm, soft brown. “Telling me I’m not getting all this wrong. I… I know I don’t always get it,” he acknowledged, swallowing thickly, “but I… I get this, right?”
“Oh, Steve. The reason I got so freaked out about the clingy thing,” you began, lifting your hands to brush the damp hair from his forehead, “was because I was afraid you’d see it, how in love I am. I… I’ve been in love with you for a while. You’re it for me, Harrington.”
Steve grinned, then, relieved - elated, clearly brimming with joy at the revelation - and leaned forward to close the gap. The press of his mouth to yours was eager, firm, and relieved some of the ache in your chest, the fear that this was something you’d dreamt up, too good to be true. He crowded you against the wall, body caging you in as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you sighed as you tangled your fingers in his hair.
Though the pool water was cool, the press of Steve’s body against yours had you melting. He always ran warm, left you blistering in the wake of his hands exploring your skin, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest as his fingers mapped the slivers of skin he’d only held through fabric.
“Babe,” he breathed, mouth barely parted from yours as you shifted your hips, “don’t wanna do this in the pool. Not the first time. Let me take you inside.”
The urgency in his tone drew a soft moan from you, eager to feel his touch and touch him in return. “Please. Waited so long, don’t wanna wait anymore.”
Desperation, eager and hurried, that had lingered beneath the surface of the entire encounter - a desire to give in, finally, after waiting for so long - showed clearly as you both rushed out of the pool. Steve remained close to you, one hand on your hip even as you both roughly toweled off, and ushered you into the house.
The Harrington house was as familiar to you as your own. It was a space you could navigate with your eyes closed, under the worst circumstances, and you were grateful for the knowledge as you and Steve rushed up the stairs to his bedroom without pause.
As many times as you’d stepped foot in Steve’s room, as many nights as you’d spent wrapped in his sheets, there was an understandable difference in this moment. The tension was palpable and, despite how eager you both were, you both faltered for a moment as the door clicked shut behind you.
“This… we don’t have to do anything,” he began, stepping close, his palm warm against your waist. “We can just shower, maybe watch a movie or something before bed.”
Again, rather than fumbling for a coherent sentence - attempting to make sense of the thoughts that remained scrambled in your brain - you reached out for him. Steve sighed as your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, eyes blazing with a heat that made your head spin, and you almost hated to lose the sight of his parted lips and lust blown eyes as your mouth pressed to his.
Steve’s hands began to wander, fingers mapping your skin in a desperate bid to commit it all to memory, as he walked you backwards. The plush of his bed hit the back of your knees, duvet soft, and he followed you down easily. With a knee pressed into the mattress beside your hip, a hand beside your head, Steve hovered above you, mouth never leaving yours.
While his fingers traced the skin of your stomach, your hips, your shoulders, your thighs, you brought your own to his chest. You raked your nails over his exposed skin, committing the warmth of him to memory, as he broke the kiss to lavish your neck with attention.
As he nosed at your jaw, lips pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, his hand fell to your breast, eagerly cupping the soft flesh over the damp material of your swimsuit.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, reverence lacing his tone as his hand flexed. “So warm, so soft. Smell nice.”
“It’s the sunscreen,” you gasped, words pitching higher as his lips latched onto the spot just beneath your ear. “You should try it.”
“Mm. You can put some on me tomorrow,” he offered, tongue darting out to soothe spot he’d nipped.
The promise was laced with an eager desire that had your hands wandering, nails raking over the trail of hair dipping into the band of his trunks, and you could feel the contraction of his stomach as he inhaled sharply. You knew that you tasted of chlorine and chemicals, of summer, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he continued pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin.
Eagerly, he began to dip lower, his lips exploring your heated skin and leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Every touch was electric, sent a shockwave through your system and left your chest aching with a warmth that you hoped would never cool. You could feel the arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach, gathering slick between your thighs, as Steve nipped at the skin of your chest.
Skilled hands made quick work of the fabric covering your chest, easily ridding you of the damp suit without lifting his head from your skin, and you felt your breath catch in your throat as Steve began to make his way down. He nipped at the delicate skin of your chest, stubble scraping your skin in the most delicious way as he shifted to free his hands.
As Steve’s hands shifted, cupped your breasts and hummed, your own hand dipped beneath the band of his trunks. Your fingers brushed the warm skin, reveling in the stuttering breath Steve released, even as his own hands began to trail downward.
“Always pretty,” he complimented, voice rough as he began to follow the path blazed by his hands, pressing kisses down your chest and stomach.  “But this,” he hummed, grinning when you whined as he moved out of reach, “too fuckin’ pretty. Not fair.”
“You’re one to talk.” It was breathless, a gasp that escaped as his lips latched onto a patch of skin near your hip, and Steve grinned. “You’re so beautiful, Stevie. ’S’distracting.”
Steve continued to sink lower, mouth blazing a devastating path across your skin, as his hands fell to the plush of your thighs. He spread them easily, settled between them, and glanced up at you from near the foot of his bed with a devilish smirk that reminded you of the days of King Steve - handsome, flirty, charming.
“How’ve we never done this before?” His hands drifted closer to your aching cunt, so close to where you desperately wanted him yet so far away as his mouth pressed to your inner thigh. “Wanna spend the rest of my life here.”
“Haven’t even got my bathing suit off,” you teased, though it was weak - wrecked, already so entirely destroyed for him. But Steve took it as a challenge.
Almost immediately, Steve’s hands slipped beneath the band of your bottoms and tugged, easily working the damp fabric down your thighs. The moment they were gone, tossed across the room to be found later, he settled back between them and grinned.
Before you could tease, make a joke about him being eager, Steve’s hands shifted exactly where you wanted them. Warm fingers swiped at your slick folds, gathered the evidence of your arousal easily, before they lifted to his waiting mouth. Your lungs constricted and breathing felt impossible as you watched him lap at the slick, an exaggerated moan leaving his lips as he pulled them free with a wink.
“Knew you’d taste amazing,” he complimented, dipping his head to nip at your inner thigh.
Steve nosed at the juncture of your thigh as his fingers returned to your folds and you could feel his triumphant grin when you gasped as his thumb found your clit. But he didn’t allow you time to speak as he dipped his head and licked a stripe along your slit.
Large hands found your thighs, fingers digging into the plush skin to keep you spread open as he lapped at you. There was no tentative tasting, no hesitant swipe of his tongue; Steve ate you like a man starved.
Those plush lips wrapped around your clit, eagerly tasting all you had to give, as his fingers returned to your puffy folds. He swiped them through your slick, gathered it on his fingers, before pressing them into you and working to open you up. 
“You’re,” a gasp interrupted you, stole your breathe as Steve glanced up at you from between your thighs - his shoulders keeping you spread open, hair caught between your fingers. “Fuck, Stevie, you’re good at that.”
Steve preened under the praise, lashes fluttering at that and the combination of your fingers yanking at his hair, as his fingers - longer, thicker than yours; easily pressing into the spaces you could never quite reach - sank deeper into you. 
As desperate as you were to feel him, to have him push you over the edge, this wasn’t the way you wanted to go. You wanted to feel him, to feel his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips met yours, and you told him as much as you tugged at his hair.
“Wanna feel you, Stevie, please,” you begged, stomach tight and chest aching as you desperately sought to catch your breath. 
“Fuck.” Steve’s forehead pressed to your thigh, warm breath fanning over your sticky skin. “Wanted to hear you say that forever,” he admitted, eagerly clambering up to shove his trunks down his hips.
As Steve shoved his swim trunks down, you tipped your head - eager to see if the rumors were true. And just as you’d heard, Steve was larger than you ever could’ve imagined. He was bigger than anyone you’d been with, bigger than anything you’d seen, and you couldn’t help yourself as you reached out to touch him.
The tip was an angry red, dripping precum, and Steve swore as your thumb brushed at the pearly bead. “Fuck, you’re so big,” you whined, wondering how he would fit - eagerly anticipating the stretch of him.
“Can’t say shit like that,” he huffed, laughing - pink cheeks blazing, embarrassed and secretly pleased at the attention - as he settled above you. “Ego’s already too big,” he teased.
“Not the only thing,” you returned, grinning when he laughed, fingers dipping between your thighs. “Fuck me, Stevie, please.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and guiding it to your puffy folds. He dragged the head through the slick, both of you moaning at the contact, before he notched the head at your entrance and pressed forward.
The stretch of him was delicious, too much and not enough all at once, and you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat as he sank into you. He went slow, careful, eager not to hurt you, but with every inch he sank forward, you were desperate to feel him fully.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Steve was pressed fully into you. It was overwhelming, being so impossibly close to him - completely intertwined, bodies as one - and all you could do was pull him into a searing kiss.
The kiss was a mess, a clash of tongue and teeth, uncoordinated but so satisfying as his hand gripped your hip. You could feel him surrounding you, all-encompassing, and you never wanted the moment to end.
Even as his hips began to snap, his rhythm steady, deep, you struggled to catch your breath - to care about anything other than the warmth of his skin against yours, the scent of him, the weight of him over you. The only thing you could say was his name, repeated like a prayer as his thumb found your clit and his lips remained just inches from your own.
Steve was all that existed, all that had ever existed, and suddenly the future was bright. There was hope, an eager desire to spend the rest of your life here - in this moment, with Steve pressed close - and you couldn’t help but whimper out a desperate, “I love you,” as you felt yourself barreling toward the edge.
The words were returned in a reverent chant, equally desperate, as you felt his hips begin to stutter. You were both nearly there, just a few presses of his hips - another swipe of his thumb, another press of his mouth to your heated skin - and you were careening over the edge with Steve following shortly after.
Warmth flooded your veins, his spend filling you so completely, and his lips sought yours despite your shared inability to regain your breath. It didn’t matter, not when all that existed was this moment, and you didn’t care that Steve’s weight had fallen to press you deeper into the mattress.
For a few long moments, you both lay there - gasping, fighting to catch your breath and return to the moment at hand - before Steve pulled away just enough to settle at your side. There was no distance left between you, slick skin pressed together, and you would’ve been content to lie there forever.
Steve, it seemed, felt the same as he settled into the pillow and leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.
Though the afternoon began with a fear that Steve would see you as clingy, that he would never love you in the way you loved him, you were ending the night in the only place you wanted to be; clinging to your boyfriend, sated and happy and looking forward to the future for the first time in a long time.
______________________________________________________
Author's Note: This was inspired by a sunscreen, believe it or not. Don't know how we got here but it was a fun journey.
Taglist: @x-avantgarde-x, @thisisparadisemylove, @eddiesprincess, @slvdsjjk, @munsonlover, @tasmbestspdrman, @urofficial-cyberslut, @jxngwhore, @hopelesslylosttheway, @meaganjm, @lazuli-leenabride, @deiondraaa, @piscesmesss, @glowyskiess, @kiszkathecook, @missryerye, @solarrexplosion, @ofherscarlettwitchways, @lovedandleft-haunted, @trappedinlimbo15, @sweetiekitten, @bookfrog242, @gwendolynmary, @sage-bun, @zealouslibrariesparadiselight, @castiels-lilass, @tojis-little-brat, @emmah787, @theworldsendxx, @asuperconfusedgirl, @flores-and-sunshine, @passi0np1t, @laurathefahrradsattel, @hellf1reclub, @slut4yourmom, @niko-04, @hannirose-loves-you, @mrs-eddie-munson, @screambabe, @vllowe, @ryswritingrecord, @cheriebondy, @ryswritingrecord, @thewitchofthewilds140, @bootlegmothman420, @maruushkka, @honeymoonpython, @keenesbeans, @jess-bonn, @sammysinger04, @khaoticken21, @denkis-slut, @spiderman-berries, @lotus-es, @amortiff, @stardust-galaxies, @ure-a-sunflower, @1-800-ch3rry, @ladybeewritethings, @ynbutbetter, @hunnybunimdun, @breathinfive, @s-u-t, @s4ntacarlal0stk1d, @rae-iin, @pennamesgame, @stefans-wife, @voldieshorts, @frankie-mercury, @bbymochi1, @serendiipty, @saturnsworld01, @eddiemunson1sstuff​, @valthevalkyrie-main​, @crying-caro​, @inglourious-imagines​
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ew-selfish-art · 9 months
Text
DP x DC AU: Bruce is the one to invite Constantine over, and no, it's not to improve his tenuous working relationship with the asshole. It's the opposite of that.
---
Danny had become a frequent visitor of Wayne Manor in the last few months, and Bruce had to admit that while the kid was certainly a bit ominous for his liking for a partner to Tim, he was a generally kind and happy soul. They'd been dating for a lot longer than the Bats knew of- Kon had been the one to let it slip to Jon who told Damian and so on- and since the relationship was no longer secret, Tim brings him to family functions.
The thing about Danny is... He's dead. More than half of the time. Which again, is not Ideal for Bruce's wishes for Tim's future husband, but it also means that he reviles in being alive. Danny is downright joyous about using his time left on earth properly. He makes Tim eat real food, enjoy real sleep and generally live a more fulfilled life than he had been. The whole family noticed the changes in Tim, and it made them like Danny even more.
So after a particularly grueling day of dealing with Trigon and therefore the JLD's lack of coordination and sensible planning- Bruce gets the idea. John couldn't fucking contain himself admonishing Bruce, and perhaps it was vindictive, but Bruce figures that John should meet Danny. Sans context of course.
...
John is really over dealing with Batman's prissy, over complicated and perfectionist attitude. Come to the Cave he'd demanded, as though John didn't have a favorite bar to get back to, deal with a ghost he ordered like John didn't have other priorities than some random shade.
When walking into the space however, the second his teleportation portal closed, John knew something was deeply, deeply fucked. The shadows were growing longer, the second hand on his watch ticked slower, the air smelled of sulfur and... Red Robin was sitting working at the computer like nothing was wrong. But what was wrong, was the kid was marked by The End. Marked by The Infinite. FUCK.
John knew Death, the Endless, and knew she could pick favorites just like her siblings (Dream's immortal drinking buddy comes to mind). But this wasn't her work, this was something other.
"Mate- the Bat said there was a ghost?" John feels like he might throw up, the eerie atmosphere complicating what should have been a simple request.
"Uh, obviously." The kid didn't even look over from his screen or pause his typing.
John slowly approached, looking over each shoulder a few times, turning in a few circles as the shadows appeared to dance and echo within the cave. He could see his breath, the air became so cold so suddenly. And then, with the gentleness of a pin drop, a new agonizing sound appeared with a Kid walking down the cave stairs. The aura of the room turned dark, every cell in John's body screaming to run, that this was basically the little girl from the ring crawling through the TV as the young man walked down the steps.
"Babe, your grampa says that dinners going to be ready in a second. Oh, uh, hey dude." The creature speaks, turning his eyes to John for only a moment to study him. It feels equivalent to a butterfly being pinned by its wings.
"Y-y-you, you're, you're one of the Endless?" John stutters, his body reacting in fear despite the nonchalant posture of the Beast. The young man rolls his eyes.
"Nah, one of the Ancients but like uh, I'm new in town. And hon seriously don't be late, A made tiramisu for dessert and you're not allowed to have any if you're late and I don't want to deal with you pouting."
"You had me at Tiramisu!" Red stands up from his computer and then turns, "John, what are you doing here again?" Red Robin finally looks over at him, completely confused.
"Just leaving." John mutters, his eyes still trained on the ANCIENT.
---
Bruce could barely hide his laugh when Tim reported the Magician meeting Danny in the cave.
That'll show the asshole to question Batman's knowledge of the occult.
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allyricas · 2 months
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one of my favorite scenarios is when person a gets wasted and starts spilling secrets about how much they loooove and want person b
and its gotta be like... steve would usually keep his feelings pretty bottled up tight with a general air of aloof bitchiness. make em think you don't care right? but he is so head over heels for eddie that when he lets loose and gets too inebriated, he starts babbling all sorts of delicious things
eddie you're so pretty bambi it's not fair ugh i've got such a big, dumb crush on you pretty boy and ugh i just can't get you out of my mind i fucking dream about you like how am i having wet dreams as a full blown adult and i love your hands and your rings and your lips even love the nerdy shit you say wanna smell you, you always smell so good how do you do that? can i touch your hair?
and he'd be handsy and snuggly with no filter, so every mushy, horny thought that pops into his head, he says with no shame.
and eddie, who is usually pretty un-fucking-flappable, is bright red. he's sputtering and blushing, but enjoying every single minute of steve's drunken affection even if all of his friends are barely holding it together. robin would be literally laughing herself silly but trying to hide it.
steve would be so mortified the next morning as he remembers every single moment.
steve: robbie, i sniffed him. repeatedly. robin: you called him bambi. steve: it's his big, sexy doe eyes- oh my god i told him i have wet dreams about him. take me out and kill me old yeller style, i cannot go on. eddie, literally giddy with joy: you guys know i'm in here right? steve: oh my god, i will never emotionally recover from this. eddie: babe, i have a big, dumb crush on you too. the biggest actually. also, you were very, very cute last night. steve: i am always cute thank you very much. robin: oh god you two are going to be unbearable.
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artiststarme · 18 days
Text
Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a proper night’s rest. It had to have been before Vecna started haunting people’s dreams that made the entire Party afraid to close their eyes. Before Max fell into a painful coma and Eddie succumbed to bat bites in the Upside Down. Maybe prior to Spring Break completely, before the Russians under Starcourt and the demodogs and demogorgons. Maybe before his parents became too disappointed in him, before they started punctuating their disgust in him with well-aimed fists. Perhaps he’d never had a restful sleep at all, he couldn’t remember anymore.
But ever since his eyes had landed on the bloody form of his new friend surrounded by carcasses in the desolate trailer park, he couldn’t sleep a wink. Whenever he tried to rest, he imagined the pain Eddie must have gone through (he knew how those teeth felt as they gnawed through thick layers of flesh). He thought of how they had been forced to leave his body down there to rot, how alone Eddie must have been in his final moments. He could vividly picture Eddie’s last breath and gurgling pain every night in his nightmares. Steve would snap awake every night, gasping for air and jumping at shadows.
For weeks, he isolated himself. He only went to work and back and even that was taken away from him once he dozed off at the counter on one of his shifts with Keith. Without Robin there to gently wake him up and cover for him, he lost his job then and there. Without anything to drag him out of the house, he began spending every minute cowering from his own thoughts. He couldn’t sleep at night and he would hallucinate during the day. He’d see shadow figures in the corner of his eye, hear distorted screeches and screams of pain. On the bad days, he’d even hear Eddie’s voice amidst the chaos.
Steve thought he’d lost his mind.
After so many years of dealing with the impossible, the craziness had caught up with him and poisoned his mind. Or maybe Vecna had finally caught by up to him. Had he finally decided to stop targeting teens in high school to move onto more traumatized targets (i.e., Steve)? Unfortunately, he couldn’t find it in himself to care either way.
He never expected his new turned dead friend to shake his shoulder gently to wake him up from a nightmare. Steve jerked awake to find soft brown eyes staring at him in concern.
His reaction was completely valid. He screamed his head off.
Steve screamed and cried as the Hallucination Eddie’s eyes widened in fear before frantic shushing and spastic hand waving began.
“Shh! Harrington, Jesus H. Christ, calm down. Holy shit, I thought you’d be the calm one. Calm down, please god.”
When his throat finally lost its ability to scream, he took a good look at Eddie. His eyes were dull, shadows bruised his face, and his skin was far paler than Steve had ever seen. New scars marred his cheek and lower jaw right where the bats had gnawed.
Was… was he really here?
“Eddie?”
The man in question beamed in response, “I see we’re on a first name basis now, Stevie. If I knew this was all I had to do, I would’ve almost died a long time ago!”
Steve threw himself forward into Eddie’s arms and ignored both his own aches and pains and Eddie’s oomph of surprise.
“You’re not going to be here in the morning, are you?” Steve whispered into the crook of his neck.
Eddie’s shaky hand latched onto Steve’s shoulder to deepen the hug. “Hell Steve, I’ll never leave you again if you’ll have me.”
Steve fell asleep in Eddie’s arms and when he woke up, he was curled against the warmth of his chest with a cold towel on his forehead. It hadn’t been a dream after all. Eddie had saved himself and had come to Steve’s. From that day forward, Steve had Eddie. He made the days meaningful and the nights restful, just as they always should have been.
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steddiealltheway · 1 year
Text
Au where HoH Steve keeps getting pestered by his roommate and best friend Robin to learn sign language in case his hearing gets worse. Plus, when he gets his migraines it might be easier to communicate.
He goes to the bookstore and finds a sign language book and signs to himself trying to pick up the basics. And, to his surprise, he takes to it pretty quickly and easily learns at least the alphabet.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Flash over to Eddie who has been coming to this bookstore because they surprisingly have D&D guides and a huge fantasy section - plus, Murray, the owner, sometimes lends him books instead of making him buy them.
But when he glances around and takes in the familiar surroundings and spots the very unfamiliar new guy in his favorite chair in the corner, he instantly freezes. Because this guy is his absolute dream guy.
Eddie thinks about how he made a New Years resolution that he wasn’t going to run away from things anymore. This time, he’ll actually go after what he wants. He walks towards the man, but stops in his tracks as he watches the man sign to himself.
Eddie takes a moment then decides that this won’t deter him. Instead of going to the fantasy section, Eddie goes over to the language section and grabs the first sign language book he finds. He goes to the register and gestures to the corner while asking Murray, “How long has he been here?”
Murray glances and shrugs. “Only a few days, but it looks like he’s going to keep coming back. Why?”
Eddie looks down and tries to figure out what to say.
“Ooooh. I see,” Murray says with a big smile and motions to the book.
Eddie feels himself flush red as he replies, “I’m thinking of asking him out in sign language. Rather than just, writing it down, you know.”
Murray stares at him for a moment but then scans the book and hands it to him. As Eddie takes it, Murray says, “You should probably know that he…” He trails off and gets a big smile on his face that sets off the warning signs in Eddie’s head. “He’s going to love that,” Murray finishes. “Have a good day!”
Eddie looks at Murray for a second before finally deciding that he’s just a strange man, and everything he says sounds strangely cryptic. So he shrugs it off and hurries home to start learning.
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few days later, and Steve finds himself sitting in the same bookstore with another sign language guide after Robin bet him that he wouldn’t keep up with learning the language. And although he may have started to give up a bit, he went right back into it to prove Robin wrong. Plus, there was twenty bucks on the line.
He’s caught up in the sign for “bitch” when he’s tapped on the shoulder. He jumps back and looks up at a guy with longer dark curly hair and big brown eyes. In his speechlessness, he nearly doesn’t notice the man rubbing his chest with his fist.
But Steve notices the circular motion, and then realizes that it’s definitely a sign for something. Oh! Sorry
Steve smiles widely at the man who smiles back at him. He points at him and signs your name? Steve can feel himself turn red as the deaf man takes pity on him and very slowly spells out E-B-B-I-E.
He points back at Steve who slowly spells out his name as well.
The other man nods with a smile and signs his name back quickly as if repeating it. Steve nods enthusiastically although he struggles with the difference between S and A, but he gets distracted and can’t help but sign beautiful as he stares up at Ebbie.
Ebbie scoffs. You are beautiful
No, you. Steve flirts easily. Maybe there will be a new motivation to learn sign language…
Ebbie pulls his hair in front of his now rosy cheeks, and takes a deep breath before quickly signing something which Steve gets none of. He really should’ve taken this sign language thing more seriously. He shakes his head at the man and hopes he doesn’t give up too quickly.
Ebbie looks a bit discouraged but slowly signs again, but Steve only captures you and want. Clearly this man is a bit too advanced for Steve.
Steve motions for a pen by just scribbling in the air since he hasn’t learned the sign for it yet, while praying that Ebbie doesn’t think he’s stupid. But the other man quickly nods and pulls a pen and small notebook out of his pocket as if he’s prepared for this moment. Which makes sense because he probably has to do this often.
Ebbie scribbles something fast and hesitates before showing it to Steve.
Do you want to go on a date?
Steve stares at the note and takes a minute to process while he tries to figure out what signs meant what. Then, he finally takes in what the question says, and makes eye contact with a very stressed looking Ebbie.
Yes, Steve replies as quickly as he can remember what the sign for it is.
Ebbie looks overjoyed for a moment, and then calmly signs F-R-I-D-A-Y. Then, he holds up his hands to show eight fingers and points down at the ground which Steve takes to mean here.
Yes, Steve replies dumbly not knowing how else to explain his gratitude.
Ebbie quickly gives him a thumbs up and waves at him goodbye. Steve waves back as Ebbie turns around and walks out of the store.
Steve can’t help but notice Murray hunched over at the register seeming to be crying from laughter. He wishes he was reading whatever book he has.
-:-:-:-:-:-
For the next three days, Eddie stops by the bookstore and has brief conversations with Ateve who takes pity on him and signs slowly for him. He even shows him a sign language book after noticing how poorly he’s signing.
Eddie’s just surprised that he agreed to the date after he signed the question so atrociously that Ateve couldn’t even vaguely understand it.
But he notices that he’s beginning to get slightly better at signing, but him and Ateve usually stick to spelling things out letter by letter until they have to ultimately go to the notebook.
But Eddie really likes Ateve. Sure, he has a weird name, but he has a really great personality that shows through even through his signing. Plus, his laughter is music to Eddie’s ears. He wonders what his voice would be like if he attempted to speak.
But that’s a horrible thing to think. Right? Eddie really doesn’t know the etiquette or what’s offensive in the deaf community. He needs to do more research. This research ends up taking him down a path of learning every curse he can in sign language… he feels oddly productive.
But then the day of the date comes, and Eddie really wishes he would’ve spent more time on learning things he could actually use. He ends up sticking to beautiful when he first sees Ateve.
Ateve smiles brightly and signs something that Eddie doesn’t recognize, but he signs thank you hoping for the best. It seems like the right response.
The walk over from the bookstore to Enzo’s is quiet except when they pass by Murray who is cackling by the register. For some reason, the past three days he’s had a laughing fit, but Eddie thinks maybe it’s just something he got from Alexei.
Eddie nearly whispers a pep talk under his breath as the approach the doors, but he doesn’t want Ateve to look over and see. Instead, he just holds up his fingers for two when they get inside and are quickly seated.
Eddie takes a moment to look at the menu before looking up at Ateve who shyly signs hi.
Eddie signs it back while biting back a huge smile before he sees a waiter approach from behind him. He’s been dreading this moment.
“Hello, gentlemen. What can-”
“He’s deaf,” Eddie says at the same time as someone else next to him. He turns and looks at Ateve who stares at Eddie in shock then he realizes…
“Holy shit,” Eddie says.
“Holy shit is right,” Ateve replies.
The waiter clears his throat, “I’ll be back in a moment.” He quickly walks away looking extremely confused but relieved to have been removed from the situation.
“I thought you were deaf.”
“I thought you were deaf.”
Ateve laughs, “Well, I’m Steve, and I’m a bit hard of hearing and sometimes get really intense migraines, so my roommate has been encouraging me to learn sign language.”
“Shit,” Eddie says and puts his head in his hands, “I thought your name was Ateve.” He laughs along with Steve and says, “I’m Eddie, and I started to learned sign language a few days ago after I saw you signing to yourself. But thank you for taking pity on me since you’re clearly advanced.”
“I stared learning days ago, and I thought you were fluent and taking pity on me. Plus, I thought your name was Ebbie.”
Eddie stares at Steve for a moment before laughing loud enough that the restaurant goes quiet as everyone turns to look at the commotion. Steve joins in after looking around.
The restaurant slowly resumes to the normal volume level as Eddie and Steve’s laughter dies down. Steve smiles and says, “If you want, we can still continue learning sign language. Together. If that’s something you’d be interested in…”
Eddie smiled back at him and replies, “Yeah, I’d really really like that.”
As the date goes on, they realize they have a natural connection and easily launch into multiple conversations, but then Eddie stops abruptly and asks, “Wait, did Murray know that you weren’t deaf?”
“Yes,” Steve answers confused but then a look of realization crosses over his face.
Bastard. Eddie signs.
Bitch. Steve signs back with a laugh.
Eddie finds that he can’t be too mad at Murray though because Steve deaf or not is absolutely perfect.
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rogueddie · 7 months
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Steve wakes up to a beeping noise- a heart monitor. He struggles to open his eyes, turning to squint around the hospital room. Something about it feels off, though he can’t tell what.
A woman stumbles in, almost spilling her coffee. She looks familiar.
“Hey,” Steve tries, only to end up coughing. His throat is painfully dry.
“Steve!” She exclaims. She hurries over, swapping the coffee for a plastic cup of water. She carefully holds it to his mouth for him to drink. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you awake! I know we can’t talk here but… fuck, man, you really had us scared for a minute. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again!”
“I promise?”
“Oh! Eddie finally woke up too! Just the other week. He keeps asking about you, I should go-”
Steve is only more confused. There’s only one Eddie he knows and that Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead worrying about someone like Steve. Not unless...
“Munson?”
“Duh. Oh! Nancy! I was supposed to- you’re ok, right? I’ll just be a minute!”
“Yeah, sure.”
She throws him a thumbs up, darting out the room, calling for Nancy.
His head throbs. He’s not sure what is going on, what happened… maybe that thing in the Byers house did get him after all? Maybe this is just a dream.
"Ah, Mr Harrington," a nurse greets with a warm smile. "It's good to see you awake. I'm just going to check your vitals and all of that stuff, then we'll need to go over some questions. Does that sound alright?"
"Questions?"
"You've been asleep for a few weeks. We need to make sure that everything up there is ok." She lightly raps her knuckles on the side of her head.
Despite how light she's trying to be, Steve feels a sinking in his stomach.
"Is that possible? What- what could be wrong?"
"Nothing too serious. You're speech is clear and legible, you're conscious and cognitive." She lifts the clipboard off the end of the hospital bed. "You remember your name?"
"Yeah," he says. After a moment, he realizes; "oh! Right, sorry. Steve Harrington."
"Date of birth?"
"April 29th, 1967."
"Do you know what todays date is?"
"Um... how long have I been out? You said a few weeks, right?"
"Almost three weeks, yes."
"Three weeks, so that would make today... December 4th?"
She doesn't respond for a moment. The way she keeps her eyes on the clipboard feels too calculated.
"The year?"
"Uh... 1983?"
She only pauses for a moment, before continuing to ask simple questions about current events, how he's feeling, where he feels any pain or discomfort.
He lies when she asks if he remembers what caused him to be hospitalized. He's not sure what the story Nancy and Byers will give. He can't imagine people... involved, would want the truth out. And he's not willing to risk whatever consequences will come with that.
"I'm going to talk with your doctor," she finally says. "I'll be one minute."
"Wait! What- am I ok?"
"Your doctor will explain everything, don't worry."
Amnesia, his doctor explains.
Three years of his life, gone. They try to reassure him, say that it's still early days and he could completely regain his memory, no problem.
But they don't know. Not really. It's all 'possibly's, and 'maybe's. No guarentee. There's still a chance that he may never remember.
The woman who ran in when he woke up, sat by his bedside and holding his hand in a death grip, doesn't look anymore reassured by their optimism than he is.
"We're... close?" He asks her.
"Yeah," she says, forcing a smile. "Platonic soulmates. It's, um... Robin, by the way. Robin Buckley."
"Do we have that... Mrs Click, you sit behind me, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She looks stunned, almost dazed. "I didn't think you remembered, or even noticed me."
"How could I not? You're hilarious!"
"What? We never-"
"Oh, uh, you're muttering. Behind me. It wasn't exactly, um... quiet."
"Oh my god," she slaps a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. "You heard me talk about you!"
"Yeah, like I said; you're funny."
Luckily, someone else bursts into the room, interrupting whatever epiphany Robin is having.
"Steve!" He yells.
The guy looks like a kid, barely out of middle school. But he rushes to Steve, eyeing him up like he's Steves babysitter.
"Uh, hi?"
"Oh no," is the kids response. He turns to Robin. "How much does he remember?"
"He is right here, you know."
"I think some time in 83?" Robin replies, ignoring him.
"Before or after the whole... uh..." He glances at Steve with suspicion, then pointedly to the door.
"Jesus," Steve mutters, rubbing at the crease between his brows. "Did Nancy and Jonathan tell you, or what?"
"Tell us about... what?"
He rolls his eyes at them, pointing to the kid. "Whatever has short stack paranoid. The thing with the-" he flops one hand around, raised towards the ceiling, "the lights."
"Do you remember anything that happened after that?" The kid quickly asks. "At the hospital, and Will?"
"You mean the Byers kid? Isn't he, like... dead?"
"So you... don't remember me."
"Sorry?"
"It's fine," he lies.
Steve hates how sad the kid sounds. He glances between the two of them, both seemingly wallowing quietly about the situation.
"Which room is Munson in?" He asks, breaking the silence.
"What?" The kid frowns. "Eddie? Why?"
"Which room?"
"He's two doors down to the left," Robin answers. "Why- woah! Don't get up! You're still-"
"I'm fine," Steve gently pushes her away, ignoring both of them trying to plead for him to get back into bed.
Despite the bandages, bruises and sick look to him, Munson somehow looks better than Steve remembers him looking. The longer hair definitely suits him.
"Steve?" He frowns. He tries to sit up but, grimacing, he soon stops. "What the hell are you doing up? You're gonna freak Dustin out."
"Dustin? That the kid?" He asks, grunting as he sits on the edge of his bed.
"What do-" he pauses, expressions slowly twisting with the horror and realization. "Yeah. Yeah, man, Dustin is the kid."
"Right. So... um... we're friends now?"
Eddie winces. "We haven't exactly had time to talk about... that."
"What? It's been years!"
"It's not that simple."
"Are you saying that because it's true or because you don't-"
"Because it's true," Eddie rolls his eyes. "A lot has happened since then, Steve. You fell in love with Wheeler."
"What?" Steve can't hide his confusion. "Nancy?"
"Yes, Nancy. You made sure everyone fucking knew about that."
Steve snorts, having to grab at his side with a wince. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.
"So you're still easy to rile up?" He asks, smirking.
"Wh- you-" Eddie gasps. He tries to sit up again, grunting when he flops back down. "You were trying to make me jealous?!"
He's looking at Steve with disbelief, but he's also smiling.
"Are we friends now?" Steve asks.
"Yeah, Stevie. We're friends."
"Just friends?"
"I don't... Steve, how bad is your amnesia?"
Steve quickly looks away, wincing. "Not... that bad? I remember that- the first time. This, um... monster shit. Falling out with Tommy. And the doctors are optimistic- they're pretty sure I'm going to remember."
"Alright... maybe it'd be better if we talk then, instead of rushing into it now."
"Jesus," Steve frowns. "I really have missed a lot. When did you get mature?"
"Hey-"
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eddiesxangel · 7 months
Text
Clueless | Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: Eddie’s an idiot and can’t pick up that you’ve been flirting with him for months…so you take things a step further.
Cw: SMUT, dom/mean!eddie, name calling (whore/ slut)
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4 months ago…
Tonight you sat at the bar, your usual Saturday night hanging with your friends from school. There was live music and you’d been eying the lead singer for about three weeks. They played here every Saturday and tonight you brought your roommates Nancy and Robin to join you so they could finally see the mystery man you’ve been going on and on about.
The three of you had been there for about twenty minutes before they took the stage.
“They should be on any minute,” you say as you hear some of the people in the college car cheer. Your eyes instantly find the stage and your heart flutters. There he is, in all his glory.
You hear Robin's gaps and you look at her immediately.
“What is it Bin?” You ask
“Nothing!” Nancy cut her off before she could talk. She gave Robin a subtle nudge and she caught on.”
“Nothing-nothing I-uh swallowed the wrong way” she pretended to cough. What the hell is going on?
You’d forgotten about how weird they were acting halfway through the set. You'd gotten up to dance and enjoy the music. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. As the three of you got closer and closer to the stage it seemed like he couldn’t stop starting in your direction. A bright smile spread across his face and you couldn’t help but blush. You’d hoped it was because of you. You’d made eye contact and almost turned into a puddle.
After the set finished the three of you found an empty booth and took a break from dancing.
“So what did you guys think?” You asked excitedly.
“They were great” Robin smirked.
“Yea usually not my kind of thing but I liked it” Nancy giggled.
“Ok, what is going on? You’re acting weird?” You winced.
“Should we tell her?” Nancy looked at Robin.
“Tell me what?” You asked.
They didn’t get a chance to answer.
“Buckley! Wheeler!” You all turn to see the man of your dreams appearing at your booth.
Your eyes go wide when it finally hits you. They know him. This is amazing! They can introduce you!
You thought the night went as well as it could have. Eddie was glued to your side, he was the biggest flirt, and he gave you compliments about your hair and how you smelled really nice. You were touching his arm and giving sublet hints that you also found him really attractive. On top of that, the conversation was cheeky and fun, you never had an awkward moment where you felt like you needed to fill the silence. the conversation was great, he was really easy to talk to. So when you went home alone, you were beyond bummed.
Eddie and you were always gravitating towards one another whenever he would come over to visit with Robin and Nancy or when your roomies asked you to come to the bar with them to meet some friends from high school. You had become attached to one another very quickly.
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One month ago…
“Eddie, can you help me with something? You called him over from in the kitchen.
“Sure thing sweetheart” he got up from the rest of the group and made his way to you. Your stomach flip-flopped any time he called you a cute pet name.
“How can I be of your assistance?” He clasped his hands behind his back.
“I can’t open it” you pout pointing the lid of the pickle jar towards him.
You were making a charcuterie board. Did you really need help? Absolutely not. The jar had already been opened but any excuse to get Eddie near you you took.
“You could have called any of the guys but you wanted me to help you with the pickles?” Eddie smirked. *pop* The jar opened with ease.
“Well yeah” you took a step closer so you see in his space. “You’re just so strong.” You graze your hand against his bare bicep before giving it a squeeze.
“You have Steve the jock to call over” he raised a brow. Is he being serious right now?
“well...yeah. But I’m sure all that strumming doesn’t hurt” You bit your lip as you tilted your head up at him.
“Eh,” he shrugged his shoulders. Passing you back the jar.
“Oh um, we’ll… thanks” You turn back to the wooden board feeling defeated as he went back to the rest of the group
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3 weeks ago…
* ring, ring, ring*
“Hello?”
“Hey Eddie, it’s me” you smiled.
“Sweetness, how are you?” He asked
“I want to have a movie night next Friday.” You just came out and said it. No more beating around the bush.
“I’m down, what’s the genre we are thinking here?” He crossed his arms over his chest while the phone rested between his ear and shoulder.
“Hmmm, I don't know. Horror?” You chide.
“I didn’t think you liked them scary” he smirked.
“But I’ll have you to protect me” You throw him yet another bone.
“I’m sure you won’t need me with everyone there.” He shrugged.
“E-everyone?” You stutter.
“Yea, who else is going?” He questioned.
Shit. You rolled your eyes and stomped your foot like a child.
“Uh I’m, not sure on the final numbers yet.” You strutted.
“No worries Princess. Count me in” You could hear the smile in his voice.
“See you then Eddie” you hung up with a defeated sigh. UGH
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2 weeks ago…
Movie night. You had the living room all set up, ready with drinks, snacks, pillows and blankets for everyone. The lot of you piled up in your small apartment, Robin Nancy, Steve, Jonathan, Argyle, and of course Eddie.
Ten minutes into watching the original Halloween movie you ‘shivered.’ You were sat between Jonathan and Eddie.
“You cold?" Jonathan asked pointing beside him.
“I am but I’m sure Eddie won’t mind sharing with me?” He already had the blanket draped over his lap.
“Hmm?” Eddie hummed.
“Mind sharing some blanket I’m a bit chilly.” You scoot a little closer towards him.
“Oh uh yea sure” he draped the blanket over your lap while his eyes never left the screen. Fully immersed in the story.
“Thanks Eddie.” You placed a hand on his upper thigh.
Eddie didn’t bay an eye. He just continued to keep his eyes on the screen.
As the movie progressed you genuinely were getting scared. Micheal Myers had jump-scared you one too many times. It was about the fifth one by the time you grabbed onto Eddie’s arm. Eddie just smirked down at you as you covered your eyes into his shoulder.
However, Eddie sat there like a statue, unfazed by your advances. Eddie never seemed to be bothered by them, but he also wasn’t picking up what you were putting down.
Halfway through the third movie, you'd given up. He didn't put his arm around you, he didn't ask if you wanted to be protected. And He never reacted to your hand placed on his upper thigh. All of your moves were useless, and you hoped you didn't make a fool out of yourself in front of your new group of friends.
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1 week ago…
Nancy and Robin started to gush about how cute the two of you would be together and it was only making you grow more impatient that he wasn’t making a move.
“Am I just not pretty?” You bit your cuticle. You were sat with your two roommates in your shared living room having a relaxing evening in.
“What are you talking about?” Nancy quipped.
“Not true, trust me, babes, you’re a smoke show, trust me I'm a lesbian.” Robin pipped up making you laugh.
"What brought this on?"Nancy looked at you with concern in her eyes.
"I’ve been throwing myself at Eddie for months! And he hasn’t once tried to make a move?” You admitted.
“He’s so dumb” Nancy said under her breath.
"I'm sure Jonathan thinks I'm pathetic. He had to suffer through my attempts during our movie night, which by the way was supposed to be just Eddie and I but he had to ask about who else was coming and I panicked!" You burry your head in your hands.
"Want me to knock some sense into him?" Robin asked.
"God no! That's the last thing I need" You shook your head. "He probably is just trying to avoid hurting my feelings... maybe he doesn't know how to turn me down so he's pretending like it isn't happening." You thought out loud.
"Nu-uh I know for a fact tha-OW" Robin looked at Nancy after feeling her kick her under the table.
"What Robin is trying to say, is that you and Eddie are perfect for one another, trust us. He will eventually see. Sometimes you have to be literal with him.
What were they not telling you?
“I don’t know…has he ever said anything about me to you guys?." you fiddled with your cup.
You look up to see Robin and Nancy give a knowing look to one another. They weren’t telling you something. They were not being subtle.
"Believe me, you don't want to give up yet." Robin reassured.
"Ohhhh kay," you sighed and changed the subject.
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Today
You were so nervous but excited. Eddie has finally asked you to hang out one-on-one. You'd thought maybe this was it, the line would be crossed, and the initial step over the hump would be taken. You were so hopeful and you repeated Robin's words over and over again in your head. You don't want to give up yet.
Before arriving you had prepared yourself. You did everything from shaving to picking out a matching bra and pantie set. You had spraying yourself with the same perfume he'd complimented you on the first night you officially met. You did your hair and makeup, and don't even get started on how long it took to choose the perfect outfit that was cute enough to look like you weren't trying too hard but looked amazing in non the less.
You knocked on the apartment door that read 416. You could hear the eager padding of Eddie making his way to the door. He opned it with a swoosh and his hair blew back like he was n a goddamn shampoo commercial.
"Hey Princess, come on in make yourself at home." He greeted you with a warm hug. As he let go he scanned you up and down. You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your chest. You’d picked a v neck top that extenuated your tits, even if it was just a t shirt.
“So what did you wanna do?” He asked as you examined his place. It was exactly what you’d imagine. Very boy, a bit cluttered but not dirty. It smelled fresh like he just put in a load of laundry.
“Would you teach me some guitar? If you don’t mind, I’ve always wanted to learn.” You smirk.
“You sure you want me as a teacher?” He tilts his head.
“Well why not have the best?” You flirt.
“Come on my guitar is in my room” he took your hand a lead you down the hall. Bingo
You walked into Eddie’s room and he lead you to sit in the edge of his bed.
“Ok sweetheart, first thing you need to know are the chords” he picked up his acoustic and handed it to you.
He sat beside you and proceeded to instruct you on where to place your fingers. Your hands not use to the awkward positions they kept a slipping away.
He placed each of his thighs on the sides of yours so you were sat right between his lap. His broad chest was pressed up to you.
“Here like this” Eddie scooted closer so he could help you place your hands in the correct position. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him as he placed his hand on yours. You swore you felt a jolt go through your body when he touched your skin.
“That’s better.” He whispered and your body broke out in a shiver as his breath cascaded down the side your neck.
“I think I’m getting the hang of it?” You look back at Eddie. He was so close your noses almost brushed. You could see his cheeks flair up into the pretties shade of pink you’ve ever seen.
“Yea….” He was so close he just needed to close the gap! This was it, this was the moment. He just needs to lean in and….
“Here let’s try a few together now.” He moved your strumming arm to around the front of the guitar.
You were screaming at him him your head! The opportunity to kiss you was right there! Why didn’t he make a move?! Better yet why didn’t you? You cursed yourself for not being the one to lean in.
As you shake yourself out of your thoughts you feel his large hands move yours so you played a few notes in a row.
“Very good sunshine” he smirked. Those butterflies were back fluttering in your stomach.
You leaned back into Eddie’s chest with a hum. You felt his whole body on your back. His broad shoulders, his chest, his soft tummy and his hard crotch…
Your eyes blew wide open at the realization that Eddie was hard.
Eddie jerked back “I ugh, excuse me I just uh need to use the bathroom.” He mumbled before jumping off the bed like a bat out of hell.
You couldn’t believe it! So he was attracted to you…more than attracted at what you had felt. So why on earth did he run away?!
It has been a few minutes since Eddie left the bedroom and he still wasn’t back. Was he jerking off? It was he just waiting for it to go down?
You assumed it was the latter because in the middle of your internal monologue he walked back in.
“Sorry bout that, where were we?” He rounded the corner
“I think right about here” you hooked your thumbs under the hem of your shirt and swiftly pulled up your shirt, bra included and flashed your bare chest.
You didn’t think Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes couldn’t get any bugged but the sure did.
“Sweetheart, what uh-”
“Come on Eddie, don’t be shy” God he was so nervous it was adorable.
“Princess I-uh? you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. You can touch them if you want.” You bite your lip.
Eddie doesn’t waist a second and rushed back towards the bed.
“Holy shit” he whispered to himself while cupping a breast in each hand. Eyes never leaving your chest.
You can only giggle at his reaction. He looked up to see the smile that broke on your face and couldn’t resist but to kiss you.
The moment his lips met yours it was like everything finally fell into place.
“Fuck you haven no idea what you do to me” Eddie gently pushed you down so you were on your back and inserted himself between your legs. he helped you take off your top and bra.
As his hand’s massaged your breasts you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.
“Ya baby?” He ground his hips into your clothed centre.
“I want you Eddie.” You moaned
“Is that right?” Eddie asked cocking his head to look down at you.
You nod your head frivolously.
“You so desperate for this cock that you had to expose yourself to me like a little slut, is that it?” he growled in your ear.
This was not what you were expecting Eddie to be like in bed… well actually it was, before you’d met him. The rockstar version you’d seen on the bar stage 6 months ago. You’d expected him to be like this, but not your Eddie you know now. You imagined the Eddie you know now to be soft and gentle.
“Shit” you sigh as he bit down on the side of your neck.
“Mmmm you like that don’t you? You like being a whore for me?” Eddie slid down to latch his mouth on your nipple before flipping the two of you over.
“You want me so bad? Prove it.” he started unbuttoning his pants.
Your mouth watered at the sight of him when his cock was released from the confines of his underwear.
Eddie was big. You knew that when you felt his cock pressed against your lower back. But feeling it was much different than seeing it.
“Com’on babydoll” Eddie stroked your hair as you lowered your head to the tip of his cock. He let out a grunt when you gave it a chaste kiss.
“Don’t be a tease” he chuckled.
You engulfed him entirely running your lips to the base, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You dragged your head back up to the tip then fully down again.
“Fuck you’re taking me so well” he gripped your hair
You pop him out of your mouth and stroked his length with your hand.
“You like that Eddie? You like me being your dirty whore?” You say as you pump him in your hand.
“Fuck baby you’re filthy” he breaths.
You crawl up to kiss him as your hand still works him. His lips are so soft, and so gentle compared to the words that have been coming out of his mouth.
“Gotta fuck you.” He pulls away and pushes you back on your back and in one swift motion, Eddie pulls down your pants and underwear. “She’s already ready for me” he leaned down and licked you from your glistening hole to your clit in one agonizingly slow swipe.
“Mmmmph Eddie please” you ground your hips up for any sense of relief.
“Patients darlin’ ” he smirked before sucking on your clit.
“No, I’ve waited long enough, fuck me now.” You demanded.
“Yes ma’am” he didn’t even hesitate. His cock plunged into you. You let out a moan of pleasure as he stretched you out.
“Fuck you’re so big” you praise as he pulled almost all the way out
“You can take it” he slammed his hips back into you.
Eddie was relentless, he abused you cunt with no second thought to it.
“Fuckin should had this pussy weeks ago” he gritted through his teeth.
“You could have if you weren’t so-FUCK ME!”you cried.
Eddie didn’t let up, the way he was pounding your pussy was like heaven in earth. He slid his hand between your two bodies to massage your clit. It took him no time to find.
“Uuuuhhhhhnn” You called out in pleasure.
“What was that baby? I could have had you weeks ago? I bet I could have you little slut but I was waiting for the perfect moment” Eddie panted.
“Yes yes yes yes” you chanted. Yes to him and yes to the feeling of him hitting your g spot with each trust. Your orgasms was building and building.
“You gunna cum on this cock? Hmmm” he mocked.
“Fuck yes! Please I wanna cum so bad. Please. Fuck me Eddie, fuck me so good” you cried.
“Come for me baby girl” he cooed, still massaging your clit.
“Eddie!” You called as your orgasm took over your whole body. Waves of euphoria pluses through you.
“Good girl” Eddie praised and you shook below him. You cunt tightening around his cock was enough to throw him over the edge, cum spilling into you. Eddie rolled off you and layes down beside you.
A few moments of silence passed before you spoke up.
“So didn’t you know I was flirting with you this whole time or?” You looked over at him
“Pffft of course I did” he looked up at the ceiling.
You raised a brow at him. Even if he couldn’t see you Eddie could feel your eyes burning into him.
“Sure you did” you scoff with a laugh.
“Don’t make me come back over there” he threatened.
“Ooooo I’m so scared” you roll over and laugh into his cheek.
“Get over here” he pinned you down to the mattress.
Safe to say he definitely showed you two more times that night.
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