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#the rainbow between robin and eddie
peterthepark · 2 years
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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth
summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.
a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.
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It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn��t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 
But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.
When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.
That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.
Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 
The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 
Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 
“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”
The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”
“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”
“Disgusting.” 
He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”
And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 
Fuck.
A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 
And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”
Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 
And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 
Fuck me, he thinks.
The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 
“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 
Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 
He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 
Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.
In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”
His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”
You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”
“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”
And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 
He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 
Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.
“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”
“Madonna?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”
Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.
But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”
“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”
His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.
Eddie sees you again. 
And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 
Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 
Summer has never felt so long. 
Again.
Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 
Again, anyways.
You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.
And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.
He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 
You’re completely devastating. 
You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”
Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”
“Why do I even do that?” 
“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”
“You said…”
“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”
You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”
“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”
He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 
“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”
“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”
And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 
You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.
So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 
“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”
Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 
Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”
You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 
“Only because it made me think of you.”
For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”
His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 
“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”
“No girlfriend.” 
“Oh?” 
“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”
“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”
“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”
“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.
Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 
Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.
“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 
“Nope.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”
Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 
Please.
A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.
And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?”
You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 
He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.
And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”
You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 
“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”
“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”
Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”
Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”
“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.
This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 
And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 
Just like heaven.
“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”
He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”
“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”
“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”
“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”
“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”
Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”
Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”
“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”
“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”
Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”
“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”
He’s earned it. 
“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.
Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 
“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”
Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”
“Christ, please.”
And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 
He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.
Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.
He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.
“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”
Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.
You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 
Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.
“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 
“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”
“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”
Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 
You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 
For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.
“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”
You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 
Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.
He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”
“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”
“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby.”
You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.
He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.
You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”
“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”
“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”
“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”
And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.
“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 
You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 
Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”
You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”
“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”
“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”
“Please, s’too hard.”
“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”
“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”
“No.”
You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 
You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  
“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”
You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 
“You’re s-so big.”
Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”
“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”
“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”
“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”
Fucking hell.
You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.
How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 
He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!
He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”
“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”
“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”
“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”
“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”
“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”
“Suits you better.”
You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 
“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”
“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”
I adore you.
I adore you.
You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.
You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 
He’s milked. Spent. 
Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.
It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.
My good boy, you think. 
“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 
“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”
“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”
Oh. It’s a joke. 
And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”
“I’m alive.”
“Barely.”
“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”
“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”
“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”
Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 
“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”
A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.
You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 
He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 
Fucker.
“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”
You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”
“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”
You stare at him like he’s crazy.
“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”
He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.
Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 
Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 
And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 
So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 
God forbid they have coyotes, right? 
But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.
Even though, the album is growing on him.
He’ll never admit that, though.
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penny00dreadful · 11 months
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So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️
We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!
AO3 link for those asking! 🖤
Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.
That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.
The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.
Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.
And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.
If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.
But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.
Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.
The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.
A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.
Her people.
Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.
The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.
“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.
The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.
“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”
The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”
“Eddie, what-”
Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.
“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”
Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.
Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.
“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”
“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.
“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”
“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”
“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”
“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”
“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.” 
“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.
Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.
“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.
“Oh shit. This is your friend?”
Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
“He’s… he’s really pretty.”
That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”
“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”
Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”
Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”
“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.
“Okay.”
“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”
“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.
“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”
“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”
“Inklings? Is that the place?”
Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”
“No way.”
“Way.”
Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.
“Is it far?”
“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”
“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?
“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.
“Would that be okay?”
“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.
“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered. 
“I think… I think I just want to get home.”
“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.” 
He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it. 
This fucking guy.
He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.
“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”
“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.
“Likewise.”
“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.
“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”
“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.
She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.
“Shall we?”
Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.
"So."
"So."
"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"
“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”
“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”
“Agreed.”
“Is it because of a bad ex?”
Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”
Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.
Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.
“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”
Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.
Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.
He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.
“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.
“Yeah, sure.”
They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.
She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”
Robin, where are you?
Are you okay?
I’m on the way.
Please be okay.
Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.
“Robbie.”
Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”
“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”
“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”
“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.
“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.
Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’
Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader
[2.7K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+
SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE
LESSON #3
You didn’t have to wait seven whole days to see Steve again, and when you did, it wasn’t poolside.
This meant that between you both, there were a lot more clothes than normal, but you found out the hard way that that fact didn’t really make a difference to the effect he now had on you. There was a party at some rich kids house on the outskirts of town, someone called Sam that neither you nor Eddie knew all that well but Robin used to work with him at the Shake Shack and well-- if Robin was going somewhere, Steve followed, and if Steve was allowed through the door, that meant Eddie had a ticket in too.
If Eddie was there? High chance you were too.
It’s how you ended up in a neighbourhood that rivalled even Steve’s, each house sprawled out across green manicured lawns and the pools out the back were almost as large as the one you were learning in, a shiny red slide to boot. Three stories, arched windows, a winding driveway to a three door garage and when you entered behind Eddie, the crystal chandelier in the foyer was vibrating to the beat of the music.
Two guys you recognised from the trailer park grabbed Eddie as he pushed his way through the crowd, your fingers hooked in his as he dragged you behind him. They were ready with cash, bills rolled up and an eagerly impatient look in their already glassy eyes, so you waved the boy away and headed to the kitchen, a safe enough sanctuary as you skirted around the makeshift dance floor that had been created in the living room. It seemed that anyone over seventeen and anyone under thirty was at the party, the large space full to the brim with drunken strangers, people moving to the synths of INXS.
The pushed back furniture made it difficult to move around the gyrating bodies, Sam’s parent’s cream coloured carpet already stained and sticky with questionable substances. The lights had been switched off and someone had strung multicoloured Christmas lights around the curtain poles, around the second chandelier above the coffee table. There was a broken disco ball sitting in a wall sconce, pink and green and blue hitting off each mirrored tile, making everything glitter.
You saw Steve before you could make it to the kitchen, rainbows on his cheeks, a stripe of colours across his lips. He was talking to a girl - a pretty redhead who had a drink in one hand and Steve’s bicep in another. The sight of him made you feel as warm as a saturday morning, as if you were walking into water with his naked chest in front of you, his pink cheeks and sleep mussed hair just for your eyes only. It felt almost unfair to see him now, surrounded by others, touched by someone else. He looked just as pretty with a striped shirt on, his hair styled and curling around his ears and neck, one hand shoved into his jeans pocket as the other gripped a beer.
His gaze caught your own, a fleeting thing before recognition clicked at the sight of you and then Steve was moving, the redhead’s fingers catching at his sleeve before he was in front of you, her frown behind him.
“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Steve was smiling, eyes drinking in the corners like he was genuinely happy to bump into you. He craned his neck and spotted Eddie, raising his beer in greeting. “You want a drink?”
“Uh, yeah.” You smiled back, heart in your throat because Steve was placing a familiar hand on the small of your back in order to steer you into the kitchen and Eddie was grinning, a full beam that made your cheeks warm. “A drink sounds good.”
You let Steve pour you a vodka and lemonade, and he fumbled an ice tray he found in the back of the freezer, the fizz spilling over the rim of the glass as he handed it to you with a grin. You watched him lick the soda from his fingers, his eyes on yours as he smiled still, his cheeks a little pink and it felt like you were back in middle school and the pretty, popular boy was giving you too much attention.
You weren’t sure why, but you lapped it up happily.
Taking a gulp, you hummed, happy that your drink didn’t burn on the way down and Steve stayed close, his hand gone from the small of your back but his shoulder bumped yours and you could smell his cologne, leftover sunscreen and hairspray.
“You ready for lesson three tomorrow or are you planning on getting black out?” Steve asked with raised brows. “I gotta tell you now, legally, I’m not covered for drownings due to hangovers.”
You rolled your eyes, lips lifting into a smile you tried to suppress because you had absolutely no intention of getting messy drunk in the vicinity of Steve Harrington, with or without the threat of swimming the day after.
“It depends,” you joked anyway, “what does lesson three include?”
Steve smirked, leaning close, hair falling across his forehead and you could see the freckles over his nose, the glint of the chain he wore flashing under the collar of his t-shirt. “M’not sure I should tell you now.” He was all charm, a cheekiness you normally didn’t get to see up close. “You might stand me up.”
You scoffed, a dismissive sound that barely covered your embarrassment because you were sure that your eyes were wide enough to show off how flustered you were. You took another long sip, lemonade and bubbles coating your tongue and you watched Steve stare at the way you licked the vodka from your lips.
“I wouldn’t stand you up,” you murmured, barely heard over the thud of the music.
The boy beamed, ecstatic. “You wouldn’t?”
“Not unless you were planning something drastic, you know, like swimming.”
A laugh burst from Steve’s chest, his eyes shining with an amusement you were proud of producing. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, spreading his feet wide enough that you were able to stand between them. Not too close, not too suggestive, just close enough to each other that girls glared at you and no one tried to interrupt.
“Swimming? In a pool?” Steve cocked his head to the side, one hand nursing his beer, the other reaching out to poke at your side. You squirmed, amazed at how such a friendly touch seemed just as intimate as his hands on your bare back, keeping you afloat. He frowned at you, all faux confusion that made him look unbearably cute. “Who the fuck would think of that?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, unable to stop smiling. Come to think of it, your cheeks ached a little, your grin permanently etched onto your lips since you saw Steve, whether it was from being flustered or amused. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest light and you barely noticed anyone else in the room.
It’s why you jumped when two hands caught your shoulders, a diabolical cackle in your ear as you recognised the scent of smoke and old spice a little too late. Eddie smelled like childhood and home but now, standing in a strangers kitchen with Steve Harrington, you couldn’t have been less impressed with your friend’s appearance.
“Hey, there’s a good chance I can shift the last of this green if I hit up this party on Maple Street,” Eddie half yelled over the music, his arm draped over your shoulder in a too familiar way. You wanted to elbow him. “You comin’ with or—?”
He was glancing at Steve over your head, brows raised, suggestive and waiting on an answer from him rather than you. You swallowed hard, noticing how Steve had seemed just as disappointed as you at Eddie’s arrival but he shrugged, nonchalant. “I could walk you home later,” the beer in his hand glinted in the low light, his fingers tightening around it. He smiled, eyes soft, “I don’t mind.”
You wanted to say yes. Fuck, you wanted to say yes so bad and the word was costing your tongue, buzzing and excited, a fizzy candy explosion. But you took too long to look at the boy, tanned skin and messy hair, scruff on his jaw that he hadn’t bothered to shave that morning, the freckles on his cheeks and neck that made you want to touch them.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d kissed a boy, never mind one you really liked. And perhaps that wasn’t even on the cards, maybe Steve didn’t like you in that way at all - but the idea of being alone in the darkened room with strangers, people you didn’t know and people who wouldn’t care if you fell into each other - it suddenly seemed a little too much for one night.
“Um, it’s— it’s okay,” you told him regretfully. You hated the way his eyes seemed to lose a little warmth, his lips turning down before he righted himself. “I should probably just go with Eddie.”
“Pussy,” Eddie coughed, barely concealed and Steve stared at the ground, cheeks pink.
You really did elbow your friend then, the sharp point of your arm finding his rims and he kicked at the back of your heel, childlike in the way he scuffled to get you back in a way that really wasn’t subtle.
“Thank you, though,” you smiled at Steve, hopeful that he’d return the gesture. He did, although not as warm as before, not as confident as he’d been as he’d guided you to the kitchen with a wide hand on your back. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, right?”
Steve sank the last of his drink, licking it from his lips before nodding. He was already back out of the kitchen and you tried not to look defeated. “Yeah, ‘course,” he told you. “See you in the morning.”
“Well,” Eddie watched Steve retreat, his hand slapping down on your slumped shoulder. “You fucked that, didn’t you?”
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Steve was already in the pool when you arrived the next morning, still sleep mussed and frazzled from the way your alarm had blared too loud. Despite three weeks of early mornings, it was still a struggle to pull yourself from bed. But the promise of a warm day, pink-blue skies and Steve Harrington made it so much easier than you ever thought.
You paused at the loungers for longer than you needed, your toes curling at the thought of stripping off your shorts and shirt because the swimsuit underneath was newer and skimpier and cherry red. Steve was underwater, swimming effortlessly beneath the surface from the shallows to the depths you weren’t brave to venture to yet.
So you took the opportunity to pull off your t-shirt, a ratty old thing that used to be Eddie's and you cursed picking it up from your floor, hoping Steve wouldn’t get the wrong idea despite how many times you’d told him that Eddie was just your friend.
You let it fall to the sun warmed tiles just as Steve broke the surface, pushing his hair back with one hand as he grasped the edge of the pool with the other. He grinned when he saw you, a familiar and friendly thing that made your heart jump but his gaze darted to your chest, just for a second, just for a tiny moment, and you remembered to feel shy.
“New suit?” Steve asked, sounding casual, his brows raised as if it didn’t really matter what the answer was.
You wondered what he’d say if you told him you’d bought it with him in mind, what he’d say if he knew you’d stared at your half naked frame in your bedroom mirror for far too long, inspecting each curve, each bruise, all the old silver scars and stretch marks, stripes along your thighs that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. This suit dipped low in the back, as modest as it still was in the chest. Would he think your boobs were too small? Too big? Too flat? Uneven? Could he tell?
Would it matter?
It was a vibrant colour against your skin, the same red as the cherries you’d scooped in your smoothie before you’d left, a shade off of Steve’s lifeguard shorts. It seemed too bright now, too silly, but you nodded regardless and tried not to make a big deal out of it.
Steve leant on the pool edge, chin resting on his tanned forearms, water dripping from his wet hair, clinging to his too long lashes. He tilted his head, appraising, gaze gentle, never staring. “S’nice. Colour looks good on you.”
His words made it a lot easier for you to unbutton your shorts and slip the denim over your hips. Chin ducked, you couldn’t hold eye contact, not bold enough quite yet. But you let the shorts drop from your thighs, hitting the tiles and you kicked them under the sun lounger as you flicked off your sliders at the same time. The sun was already blazing, rising higher in the sky, turning the tangerine edges into a warm blue and the heat of it slipped over your skin like a blanket.
Feeling a little less naked than before, you walked to the shallows, Steve swimming the length of the pool to meet you. You stopped just shy of the stairs, lips pressed together and brow furrowed, contemplating. Steve stopped too, watchful as you considered your next move the boy positively beamed when you dropped down to sit at the edge of the water.
The surface lapped at Steve waist when he stood, not too deep but certainly not the gentle entrance you’d become accustomed to. You cringed as you slipped both feet into the cool water, hands curling around the edge of the pool until your knuckles burned.
“Yeah?” Steve coaxed, sounding impressed. Proud. “You’ve got it. You can just slide right in, you’ll touch the bottom.”
You knew you would. The logic was in front of you, just like the bottom of the pool was very much visible. Looking down, you could see Steve’s feet on the tiles, rippling into funny shapes and sizes, his bare legs, just as tanned as the rest of him and dusted with coarse hair. He was planted there firmly, no current or waves to knock him over, steady as ever.
He lay his hands on the top of the water, palms up. His gaze met your own, his smile warmer than the morning. “I’m right here.”
It was comforting, his words, his closeness, even if you didn’t take his hands, he kept them there, waiting. It was enough for you to lean forward, bum slipping off of the warm tiled edge and into the cool water. You gasped as always from the shock of the temperature difference, the water rippling around the tops of your ribs and it was enough to make your nipples pebble, glaringly obvious under the new, thinner material of your suit.
If Steve noticed, he didn’t dare look down.
He did take a step forward though, enough for his toes to touch yours and you could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose, could see the chlorine water that still made his lashes cling together in spikes. It was intimate enough to make you wonder if something like this would’ve happened the night before if you’d stayed. If you had let Eddie and the boy shaped comfort blanket that he was go, if you’d hung back with Steve and shared secrets and drinks under the multicoloured lights, if you’d let him walk you home under the glow of street lamps.
If he would’ve kissed you at your front door.
But then the gate clanked noisily against the chain link fence and there was a splash big enough to soak your chest and the side of your face - Steve’s too - both screwed up in shock.
Eddie appeared from the water - the deeper, indigo coloured end - shaking his sopping curls like a wet, disobedient dog, his tattooed chest bare and much paler than Steve’s. He grinned through his curls, oblivious to whatever he’d just interrupted, his arms spread wide.
“What’s up, fuckers?”
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marvel-ous-m · 1 year
Text
After Starcourt, Steve and Robin began a new tradition- 'spa nights'. Robin would make them homemade face masks (“peaches and yogurt? On my face? That’s disgusting Robin.” “Shut up and put it on, dingus.”). They would put in a shitty tape from Family Video and Steve would paint their nails. (“How do you even know how to do this Steve?” “I’m a babysitter, Rob, it’s in the job description.”)
The school year started and Robin got a lot more busy- what with it being her senior year and all- but they still made time for spa nights. They were less frequent (maybe once a month instead of every other week), but they happened.
Vecna came, they killed the bastard, and they all lived- somehow, miraculously, certainly not unscathed, but they’re all alive. They beat him. A few months later, after the almost-end-of-the-world, Robin brought up their spa nights. (“Come on, Steve, it’s been months. My brain needs a vacation, my face needs a vacation, my nails need a vacation.”) Steve agreed, acting reluctant (but was secretly really excited to get back to one-on-one time with his best friend).
Except the kids find out, namely El and Max, and they beg Steve and Robin to join them. The two acquiesce, and then Eddie hears about it and joins the party, too. Uninvited. (But nowadays he doesn’t need an invitation. He shows up, bright personality and even brighter smile, and brings a constant, welcome addition to the party. Along with some… feelings that Steve can’t even start to try and acknowledge.)
The spa night comes and everyone crowds into Steve’s living room. Robin has put together a new face mask recipe (“ugh, what is in this?!” “Just shut your mouth and put it on, Red.”), Eddie brings his braiding skills, and Steve provides the nail polish.
Only now, his hands shake.
It’s something he’s noticed by now. The nerve damage from fighting the bats and Vecna, the 24/7 anxiety, the brain damage, something that they faced over spring break has left him with a tremor that he can’t quite get rid of. Sometimes it’s small, sometimes it’s more noticeable, and tonight… well, it’s not great.
Robin wiggles her fingers at Steve, ready for their tradition of him painting her nails, and Steve hesitates. It’s a small thing, but his shoulders tense. He hasn’t mentioned the shaking to anyone yet, and he knows that he wouldn’t be able to get the crisp, clean paint that he used to. The tremor would make itself obvious, and he just can’t face picking up the nail polish bottle. It’s a sign of the new weakness, one that he can’t admit to others, can barely admit to himself… he can’t face being seen as weak. As flawed. As-
“Hey! Are we painting nails?! Here, lemme have a go. I haven’t done it on anyone else before, always just painted my own.” Eddie interrupts Steve's train of thought in his easy way and grabs the nail polish from just below Steve’s hand. He plops down between Steve and Robin, admiring the color the later had chosen. “Robin’s Egg Blue, very fitting, Birdie.” Eddie winks at her and starts painting, accomplishing a more polished finish than Steve was ever able to get before Spring Break.
And Steve just watches. Quiet, his hands on his knees. He watches as Eddie paints Robin’s fingernails blue, then Max’s a bright red. Eddie paints Eleven’s a deep purple shade, then gives himself a fingernail in each polish that Steve has to create a rainbow of clashing colors. Afterwards, once the paint has dried, the girls all wash their face masks off and curl up to watch the shitty movie Robin had picked.
Eddie turns to Steve then, a bright yellow shade in his hands. “Want a turn, sunshine?” Eddie must’ve seen the look on Steve’s face, the flash of pain, because his voice turns to a whisper before Steve can answer. “I can help you keep your hands steady, Stevie. Don’t worry about that. Just relax and lemme treat you to a manicure.”
Steve startles at that. He thought he'd been better at hiding it. “How did you know?“
“How wouldn’t I know, Steve?” Eddie grabs Steve’s hand, a gentle but firm grip holding his fingers straight and steady. “I paid attention. I noticed. We all came away from that fight with a different scar, and we all need some extra help with different things now.” Eddie speaks as he paints, carefully brushing away any mess with the corner of his thumb. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, but I get it if you can’t tell anyone just yet. I’ll be here to help, though. Just like this. If you want it.”
Steve’s quiet still, but now in an effort to keep his emotions at bay. He’s never had anyone do… anything like this for him before. Eddie moves on to paint his other hand, and they sit in silence while the sound of the shitty rom-com washes over them, joined by the occasional giggle or mocking comment from one of the girls. Eddie does a second coat, brushes any scraps of excess paint away with an alcohol wipe, and caps the nail polish with a gentle smile.
Steve admires his nails, then glances up at Eddie, his eyes welling. “Eddie, thank you-“
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’, it’s just a paint job-“
“No really, Eddie. Thank you. For everything. For noticing. No one’s ever-“
“I’ll always notice, Stevie.” Eddie squeezes Steve’s arm, then turns slightly to watch the movie, his hip pressed against Steve’s.
Years later, in retrospect, Steve realizes that the spa night was the night he fell in love with Eddie Munson.
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reputationmunson · 1 year
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hi mads! how r you? i was wondering if i may request a enemies to lovers with fake dating between reader and steve? where she's shy and kinda nice with everyone but somehow doesn't get along with him... and suddenly they have a situation and have to pretend to be dating... btw, love your writing!
i’m doing well and i hope you are too :) thank you for the request and i’m so happy you enjoy my writing that means so much to me! i hope you like this and i hope it's okay i'm making it multiple parts!
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Crossing Lines | S.H x fem!reader
Part One | part two | part three | part 4
summary: Steve isn’t your biggest fan (understatement of the year), so why does he ask you to be his fake girlfriend for a wedding?
content: enemies to (eventual) lovers, fake dating, mentions of drinking, swearing, a guy at the bar is kind of creepy, mentions of reader and eddie having a past fling, use of y/n (not too often)
word count: 3.7K
a/n: this is a little shorter than I anticipated, but I’m going to try and make future parts longer.
_
There’s something strange about having an “enemy”. Especially when that enemy is Steve Harrington. You don’t exactly consider him an arch nemesis, but there’s really no other way you can describe your relationship with him. You aren’t friends with him by any means, not anymore, despite your several attempts at kindness.
Cupcakes you made him got thrown in the trash, smiles you’ve given him had been reciprocated with glares, and every time you spoke was the perfect time for him to roll his eyes.
No matter how many times you try to pinpoint a moment in your life where you might’ve offended him or done something to make him have such a great dislike for you, there’s nothing you can come up with.
You never had many interactions with Steve in high school, which isn’t very surprising. You always tried to stay in the background with your nose buried in a book and he was the complete opposite of that.
You admit you had a teeny tiny crush on him in high school, much like the other girls. How could you not? He was so charismatic and carried himself with confidence. You weren’t as immune to the Harrington charm as much as you liked to pretend you were.
It wasn’t until he became friends with Robin a few years ago that you had your first real conversation with him. She’s been your best friend since you were six and if she was convinced he changed, then you were willing to give him a chance.
He seemed like a completely different person than the boy you used to pass in the halls as he talked about how wasted he got the night before with his herd of wannabe Steves.
He was friendly and also a little bit of a clutz. Sort of awkward, as well. He was still handsome, though. A lot more handsome. His eyes were kinder and his hair as lovely as ever. You always wondered how it managed to still look so soft after that much product usage.
After the first two months of what seemed to be a friendship, he flipped the switch. His words to you became grumbles and he always kept a distance from you, like he’d go into anaphylactic shock if any part of him accidentally brushed yours.
It drove you mad. The one thing in life you always tried to do was treat everyone with kindness no matter what and he made it nearly impossible. You had more friends in your life now than you thought imaginable and it was nearly perfect, but all you seemed to be focused on is how much Steve hates you.
From Steve’s point of view, he would never outright say that he hates you. It’s more of an annoyance. Your shared friend group constantly raves about how great and delightful you are. The kids, who aren’t kids anymore but always will be to Steve, idolize you. Everyone thinks you walk around with rainbows and sprinkles shooting out of every single one of your orifices.
You and your delicious baked goods that you make in celebration every time someone so much finds a lucky penny on the ground. You and your stupid perfume that makes you smell like a damn bouquet of flowers. Your dumb dimples and eyes that some might claim light up a room every time you smile. Don’t even get him started on the short, nonsensical pleated skirts you wear.
You’ll probably be wearing one of those skirts tonight when you all go out for drinks later and he dreads it, terribly. Definitely not because he’s attracted to you, no, that’s insane, but because of all the guys that are going to swoon over you and he’ll have to be responsible for making sure none of those creeps try to touch you.
Robin made it very clear to him early on that you are off limits. She told him he wasn’t ready for a girl like you. You’re different from the girls he takes on dates and sleeps with. You aren’t a ‘hit it and quit it’ kind of gal, as she put it. . She said you’re a hopeless romantic, spending the rest of your life with one person, the type of love they write songs about, kind of gal. Steve wants to settle down one day, but he also isn’t ready for that yet.
Apparently, Robin forgot to give Eddie the same speech because Steve caught the two of you in a hot and heavy makeout sesh at a party awhile ago. Steve put all of the puzzle pieces together that you and Eddie were secretly hooking up. It wasn’t hard to figure out with all the glances, giggles, and body language. Plus, the sexual tension was so obvious.
No one else knew, neither of you even know that Steve’s aware anything ever happened.
Yes, you and Eddie were hooking up. Past tense. It was nice at first, way more than nice. You’d never done the whole no strings attached thing and you felt comfortable with him, but then you both quickly realized that it would end in complete disaster and called off the agreement. Surprisingly, there was no awkwardness after, but you did miss him sometimes.
It was gratifying to be out of your comfort zone, but you needed more. You wanted a love that felt like an easy Sunday morning everyday, but as long as you were confined to Hawkins, you doubt that you’d ever find it.
-
The bar was absolutely packed tonight, crawling with regulars, college kids back for the summer, and high school students with fake ids. There was a bachelor party sitting in the corner shouting obscenities and catcalling any girl that walked by them.
It was overwhelming. Usually this place, even on its busiest night, is still manageable to walk to.
Your walk to the table where your friends are sat feels like you’re climbing mount everest.
“y/n! you’re here!” Robin hops out of her seat at the high top table and throws her arms around you, squeezing you a little too tight. You can smell the tequila on her breath and her cheeks are flushed. That, combined with her affection for you, alerts you she’s one drink away from being hammered.
Everyone else happily greets you, apart from Steve who gives you a tight lipped smile and takes a drink of his beer so he doesn’t have to say hi because god forbid he speaks one of the shortest words in the english language to you.
“I’m gonna go grab a drink. Does anyone need anything?” you ask. “I’ll go get your drink. It’s a madhouse in here, what do ya want?” Eddie offers and you lay your hand on his shoulder, making Steve subtly roll his eyes so no one notices. “That’s sweet, Eds, thank you. I’ll have a vodka cran please”
“He’s, like, so in love with you” Robin says and you laugh. Steve laughs too, but not out of being humored like you are. “He’s not in love with me. He’s just nice, unlike most of the guys in here” you say the last part a bit louder and look at Steve when you say it. His eyes roll again and you think that must be the only thing he’s good at because he does it all the time.
“Your beverage, madam” Eddie says as he hands you your drink and sets down a tray of tequila shots for the table. “Do we really need more shots, Eddie?” Steve groans. “Tapping out already, Harrington? I guess we shouldn’t be surprised” you tease and he scoffs. “Oh, that’s just rich coming from you”
“heyheyhey, can you two have your lovers quarrel another time? We’re all here to have a good time, okay?” Robin reminds you and you give her a sorry smile. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s not waste this tequila!” you exclaim
You all cheers your shot glasses and when you lick the salt of your hand, Steve’s eyes can’t leave you. He’s still staring when you put the lime in your mouth afterwards, you close your eyes in satisfaction and suck out all the juices. He hopes he never has to watch you take another shot again.
When your eyes open, you see Steve staring at you and he immediately looks away and pretends to be occupied by whatever the bachelor party to his left is doing. His mind drifts to the wedding he has to go to next weekend. One of his cousins on his fathers side of the family is getting married and he’s dreading it. Being surrounded by his snooty, rich family members who are all CEO’s of some business and they’re all married to or engaged to the ‘perfect woman’ that they undoubtedly cheat on while away on ‘business’ trips.
Speaking of business, they can’t keep their noses out of Steve’s life. When are you going to get a ‘real’ job?, when are you gonna settle down and have kids?, are you still living in that tiny apartment?. So no, he isn’t exactly looking forward to telling his family he’s a single loser who practically lives in a shoebox.
“Steve? Are you okay?” your voice brings him back from his thoughts. “Yep. perfectly fine”
“Ya sure? You seem distracted” he hates that you care. Eighty percent of the time, you’re still so nice to him, apart from a few jabs every now and then, despite his coldness towards you. “Just thinking, so you don’t have to pretend that you care.”
“Okay…I’m gonna go to the bathroom” you say before leaving the table.
“Why are you such a dick to her? She’s the nicest one out of all of us.” Eddie’s tone is sharp as he defends you. “I’m just stressed about this wedding I have to go to and my entire family is going to be there and I’m the only one without a date so that’s just another thing they’re going to criticize me for” Steve sighs and looks down at his drink.
“How about that girl you went out with last month? Trisha?” Nancy suggests and Steve scrunches his nose. “No can do. I realized I slept with her roommate after the first date” he cringes at the memory of walking into her apartment and seeing a familiar face sitting on the couch.
“You could borrow nance? She’d just have to take off the engagement ring” Jonathan jokes and the table laughs. Steve considers it for a half of a second, but realizes his parents already know about her engagement to jonathan. “Nice job, Steve. You let the only decent girl who liked you get away and now she’s with that byers boy” he recalls his dad saying in a snarky tone.
“I have the perfect idea!” Robin exclaims and everyone waits for her to continue “you should ask y/n to be your date!”
“That’s a terrible idea, Robin. Why would I do that?” It isn’t a terrible idea. His family would be over the mood to see him with a girl like you. You’re kind, funny, smart and gorgeous, but he’d never admit those things to anyone, least of all you. But the thought of spending a whole weekend with you seems like torture.
“Actually, that could work. You need to get over this weird hatred you have for her and this could be some good bonding! Maybe you’ll finally realize how great she is” Nancy states. “I know you all worship the ground she works on, but that isn’t good enough reason to ask her to pretend to be my girlfriend”
“Just think about it, okay?” Nancy says, kindly and he half-heartedly nods. The conversation ceases as you arrive back at the table and everyone stares at you. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No. Nothing. We just missed you” You know Robin is acting weird about something, but you let it go. “um, okay. I missed you guys too for the whole five minutes I was gone. I'm gonna go get another drink.” you tell them before making your way to the bar.
“Hey, beautiful. Wanna take a shot with us?” One of the men from the bachelor party asks as you walk by their table. “No thanks. Have a good night, guys” you walk away and hope they leave you alone.
One of the guys gets up to follow you. Steve’s keeping an eye on you and moves to get up when he sees the guy following you. “I’ll be right back, guys”
“C’mon, baby, let me buy you a drink” Steve hears him say to you as you’re standing at the bar. You look uncomfortable and with the bar packed, you barely have a way to escape. “I already said no. Just go back to your friends”
When he moves closer, Steve steps in between the two of you. “She said no, man. Just leave her alone, alright?”
“you her boyfriend?” he slurs and Steve can’t believe the words that come out of his mouth “yeah, i am. so, fuck off, okay?” your eyes widen when Steve says he’s your boyfriend.
“Alright, alright.” the guy puts his hand up in defense “she’s all yours, buddy”
“are you okay? you’re not gonna cry or anything are you?” he asks when he turns around to face you. “No, I'm fine. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you” you smile at him sweetly.
“It’s whatever. Don’t let it get to your head” And just like that the Steve you know is back. “Can you tell everyone that I went outside for some air?” you ask and he nods then you go your separate ways. He watches the door to make sure you get outside alright.
“So, hypothetically” Steve starts once he returns to the table “How would I go about asking her to be my fake girlfriend?”
“Just be honest about it. Oh! and offer to pay for everything!” Robin says. Her advice could not be more vague. “I still think this is a terrible idea, but I literally have no other options, so when this goes to shit just remember it was all of your fault” he tells them before turning around and bearing the crowd to get outside.
When he walks out the door and into the fresh air, he sees you standing up against the brick exterior of the building. “Don’t tell me you came out here to check on me. Thought you said I shouldn’t let anything go to my head?” you raise your eyebrows at him.
“You are not making this any easier” He puts his hands on his hips and throws his head back, letting out a sigh. “Making what any easier?”
“I have a proposition for you”
“I don’t do prostitution, Steve”
“It’s not- would you just let me talk?” he groans and you make a zipping motion over your lips and throw away the invisible key. “Okay, you owe me a favor after what I did for you, right?- don’t make that face you totally do- anyways, I have a wedding to go next weekend and my family is always harping on me about having a girlfriend and I was thinking-”
“you want me to be your girlfriend?” you ask in a skeptical tone.
“What did I say about letting me talk? and no not girlfriend, fake girlfriend. Just for three days”
“You can barely stand to be around me and you want me to be your pretend girlfriend?”
“Look, I know it’s weird, but we don't have to worry about feelings or some shit like that being a problem because there’s no way that would happen” he explains. “What do I get out of it?”
“A super fancy hotel and all expenses paid. You’ll even get to pretend that you’re dating someone as hot as I am” he smirks and you huff out a humorless laugh. “You’ll pay for everything?” he nods “you’ll drive, too? I hate driving” he nods again “and you’ll be nice to me?”
“Ugh, fine, okay. I will be so nice to you that you’ll puke. Is that a yes?”
“Sure, why not. Can I talk in a British accent and pretend to be part of the royal family? ya know, to fit in with the rich people?”
“Absolutely not”
“Why are you no fun, Stevie?” you whine. “Stevie?” his brows furrow. “yeah, i’m thinking that as your new girlfriend, my nickname for you is Stevie”
“Fake girlfriend” he reminds you “Stevie, you’re so uptight.” you pout at him and he hates himself for his eyes lingering on your lips.
“So, what time should I come over tomorrow?” you ask like you’ve already been invited to his apartment. “What?”
“We need to hang out so you can get used to not acting like I don’t have the plague. Plus, we need to get to know each other” you state. “Fine. Come over tomorrow night and we’ll go over everything”
“Looking forward to it, Stevie”
_
You knock on Steve’s door at 8 p.m. sharp with a bottle of wine in hand because let’s face it, you’re both going to need it. “Hi, Steviekins” you greet as he opens the door. “That’s worse than Stevie”
“You love Stevie and you know it”
“Just come inside” he grumbles. “I ordered a pizza if you want a slice. It’s in the kitchen”
Once the wine is poured and you sit on the couch to eat, you pull out your notebook and two pens from your bag. “Are we writing each other love notes or something?”
“No, doofus. We’re taking notes on each other. Our likes, dislikes, details about our relationship” you tear out a piece of paper and give him a pen. Even your pens and notebook were nauseatingly adorable. “If I knew this was going to be like school I would’ve asked Robin”
“ha!” you laugh loudly “she would punch you if you tried to hold her hand or do anything that was even remotely romantic” you point out “and you’re not going to punch me?”
“I’d like to say no, but I’d hate to be a liar”
You and Steve practically chug your wine and pour a second glass before playing your own version of twenty questions.
“What’s your favorite color?” you ask to start. “My favorite color? you really think my family is going to question you on shit like that?” he responds and you glare at him. “Okay, fine. um, blue, I guess”
“That’s so basic”
“Then what’s yours?”
“all of them” you reply. “all of them? really?” he snidely remarks. “yes, moving on”
You learn an abundant amount of things about each other, much against Steve’s will. You know each other's favorite candies, movies, songs, all the way to childhood memories and discussing scars you have and how you got them.
Then you moved on to the details of your relationship. Friends first, fell in love, you know the deal. You’ve “been together” for five months. Long enough that it’s somewhat serious, short enough for it to make sense that you haven’t met his parents yet.
The bottle of wine is almost gone and Steve’s cheeks are flushed and his eyes are a bit glossy. If he wasn’t the bane of your existence, you might even think he looks pretty.
“Can I ask you a question? and not one about your favorite food or anything like that” you ask in a soft voice and you seem a little nervous. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Why did you ask me to do this? i’m like the last person you should’ve asked”
“That’s actually why I asked. If I asked a girl that has any romantic interest in me at all, then it might get confusing, ya know? With you, once these three days are over we can go back to normal. There’s no risk of us falling for each other”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense. I have an observation, by the way. You always speak of love like it’s a terrible thing. Why is that”
“Holy shit that’s a loaded question. Um, well the first time I was in love was in high school and we all know how that turned out. Haven’t been in a serious relationship since so I guess it’s hard for me to believe that it’s as great as everyone says it is” he sighs. He’s never drinking wine again. If it makes him this vulnerable with you he can’t imagine what it would be like if someone else was sitting here.
“Do you still love her? Nancy?” you wonder. “No, I don’t. I have love for her, but just as a friend. What about you?”
“No, I’m not in love with Nancy. She’s pretty and all, but can’t say i’m in love with her”
“Shut up, you know what I mean. You’re always raving about some dumb romance novel, yet I’ve never seen you with a boyfriend.” he says and you sigh “There’s not much to tell. Hopeless romantic with standards that are too high”
There’s a hint of sadness in your voice and you clear your throat before speaking up again. “So, I think that’s enough for tonight. I know way more about you than I ever wanted to”
“Right back at ya. I’ll walk you to the door”
“It’s a short distance, I’ll manage”
“Hey, I gotta start working on being chivalrous as your fake boyfriend. Can you stop being stubborn for one second?”
He walks you ten steps to the door and even opens it for you. “Same time tomorrow night? unless you're busy” you say, halfway out the door. “What could we possibly have left to learn about each other?”
“We still have to work on acting like we’re in love. You might have to put your arm around me this weekend. Oh, the horrors!” you gasp dramatically and he suppresses a laugh because he refuses to let you think you have the ability to make him laugh.
“Tomorrow's fine. But if something comes up and you have to skip that would totally be okay”
“You’re such an ass” you whine. “Not as much as you are” he retorts.
You flip him off as you walk away and he does the same.
He can’t wait for next weekend to be over so he can go back to pretending like you barely even exist.
-
part two coming soon to a screen near you ;)
-
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atimeofyourlife · 8 months
Text
As soon as the team was asked for volunteers, Steve was the first to sign up. He usually hated working events, but this was different. This was the first event when they'd get to be themself. He'd been to pride only once before, getting dragged along with Robin the year before, and it had ended up being a world of discovery.
Sure, he couldn't be decked out in rainbows and flags, having to wear their EMT uniform. But their boss had approved pins and bracelets as long as it didn't interfere with the duty. So his uniform had their pronoun of the day pins (They/He), their updated name badge showing his choice of names (Steve/Evie), pins and bracelets of the trans, non-binary, genderfluid, and bi pride flags. And Robin had braided bi pride ribbons into his hair before he tied it back when getting ready. It was going to be a good day.
He was kept busy, like the rest of the first aid team. And being one of the highest trained on duty, one of two AEMTs and in training to become a paramedic, he was tending to deal with the worst injuries and illnesses, and having to triage for if anyone needed to be transferred to the hospital. Robin stopped by a few times, to check in, and to give them snacks. It helped break up the day as he wouldn't get a long break.
They'd had to spend some of the day hurrying around the site whenever the radio buzzed for first-aid assistance at various points around the site. He was making his way back to the first-aid tent after one call, when their eye was caught by the band on the second stage. In particular, the long-haired guitarist. Steve couldn't help watching them as he walked by, until he stumbled and nearly fell into someone. They shook their head, and dragged their eyes away to make his way back to the tent. He was there to do his job, not make eyes at a pretty guitarist. They tried to put it out of their mind, but he couldn't help looking out for the guitarist as the day passed. Not letting it get in the way of their job, but whenever they had a second free.
Late in the afternoon, they were alerted to a group of people making their way to the tent. Two guys supporting a third, with another guy ahead of them to clear the way. Steve pulled fresh gloves on and hurried down to help. As he reached the group, he realized that the guy being supported was the pretty guitarist. They tried to not think about it, needing to remain professional.
"What seems to be the problem?" Steve asked, swapping places with one of the guys supporting the guitarist.
"He nearly passed out on us." One of them responded.
"Right. Come on, we'll get you all checked out." Steve replied, guiding them into the tent.
"You can check me out anytime, sweetheart." The guitarist replied, leaving Steve fighting back a blush.
"Eddie, shut up." The guy in front snapped, before glancing at Steve. "Sorry about him."
"But he's pretty." The guitarist- Eddie- whined.
"Okay, just set him down here." Steve helped Eddie onto the bed at one end of the tent, before turning to the other guys. "Only one of you can stay in here with him because of the space, so if the other two can just wait outside?"
The other three guys looked between them, silently deciding that the shorter, curly haired guy would be the one to stay behind.
"Gare-bear, where they going?" Eddie asked.
"They're waiting outside for you, asshole."
Steve coughed a little to hide the laugh that threatened to burst out, the conversation reminding them too much of dealing with a drunk Robin, or worse, the kids while they were crossfaded for the first time.
"Okay, can I just pop this on your finger for a reading?" Steve asked, waiting for Eddie to hold his hand out so he could fix the pulse ox monitor. They then grabbed a clipboard and a blank paperwork sheet. "And while we wait for that, just a few questions. Can we start with your name?"
"Eddie Munson." The other guy, Gare? replied.
"You can take my last name, angel." Eddie said, which Steve ignored.
"Thank you, and the date of birth?"
The other guy reeled it off, as Steve wrote it down.
"And Gare, was it?"
"Gareth."
"Gareth, sorry. Can you tell me what, exactly, happened? The other guy said he nearly passed out?"
"Yeah. Uh, we were performing earlier. We're in a band. He was fine then. But in the last thirty minutes or so, he's been complaining about not feeling so good, and then he nearly passed out."
"Okay." Steve wrote down all the information, then copied down the numbers from the pulse ox. "I just need to get the rest of your vitals, okay, Eddie?"
"Anything you want. He's so beautiful, isn't he Gare?"
"Anything you say, Eds."
Steve set to taking the vitals, making sure everything was normal, but kept asking questions to get to the bottom of it.
"Any medical conditions?"
"No."
"Do you know if he's taken anything in the last twenty four hours? Any prescription meds, or over the counter, or any other substance?"
"Shhh. Gare, you can't tell him."
"Dude, I'm not a cop. I just need to know if it could be what you've taken, or so if you need any medication it won't react to it."
"He smokes, and we were smoking weed last night. But he smokes weed most weeks and has never reacted like this." Gareth explained.
"Uh-huh." Steve continued to make notes, both the answers to the questions and Eddie's vitals. "Any alcohol?"
"A couple of beers."
"When was the last time he ate?" Steve asked, frowning when they noticed that Eddie's blood sugar was on the low side.
"Wait, I think that was-" Gareth broke off for a moment. "Eddie, you certifiable moron."
"Not eaten much today?" Steve guessed.
"Not eaten at all today. He doesn't eat breakfast, ever, and he felt sick before we went on so he didn't eat lunch. And after he still didn't want anything."
"That pretty much explains everything. Plus drinking on an empty stomach is a recipe for disaster. I'll grab some water and something small so you'll feel less like passing out." Steve crossed the tent to find a bottle of water and the emergency snacks they kept, usually for diabetics.
"Here. Drink some water, and eat these. I know they're not the most exciting snacks, but you should feel better after." Steve handed it over to Eddie, a mini bag of fruit gummies, and a small pack of crackers.
Steve kept a check on Eddie as he ate the snacks. He seemed to be doing better, which put Steve's mind at ease. And kept trying to flirt, which left them fighting to remain professional.
"How are you feeling now, Eddie?" Steve asked after a few minutes, hoping that it wouldn't be too much longer before they could have a moment to freak out, preferably with Robin.
"Better. But you could make me feel incredible, big boy." Eddie said, a clear flirty tone in his voice.
"Not while I'm on duty," Steve replied slightly absently as he made a note on Eddie's sheet. Then, realizing what they'd said, fought to figure out how to backtrack without offending Eddie. "I mean, it's good that you're feeling better. I would recommend you try to get a balanced meal soon, something with carbs, protein, fibre, fats. That will help keep you feeling better, and keep you from feeling like you're going to pass out again. And it might be best if you stay off the alcohol for today."
"Does that mean- ow." Eddie started to ask something, but cut off. Steve looked up from the clipboard, and it was obvious that Gareth had elbowed Eddie to get him to shut up.
"This is your copy of the paperwork, it just has your vitals, and what's happened. If you still feel unwell later, and you need to come back here, or you seek medical attention somewhere else, you can show this, so whoever you see has some background for what has happened today." Steve explained, handing the sheet over to Eddie.
"Thanks," Eddie replied, starting to stand up.
"You're welcome, enjoy the rest of your day." Steve turned to start sanitising and packing away the equipment used, so the space would be tidy for the next person to need it. He could hear a brief, whispered conversation behind him, but ignored it. Until they felt a tap on their shoulder, and turned back to Eddie.
"For you," Eddie said, thrusting a small piece of paper into Steve's hands before leaving the tent with Gareth.
Steve unfolded it, and read the note. 'What about when you're off duty?' followed by a phone number. He blushed a little as he shoved it into his pocket. God, they needed to talk to Robin.
Later, once he was home, he finally had the chance. Not that she was much help.
"You're telling me you nearly fell over yourself because you were staring at this guy, kept looking out for him because you hoped to see him after, he shows up to the tent and is flirting with you, and gave you his number. And you haven't called him?"
"That is missing the point entirely? He wasn't well when he came to the tent, and it kinda feels like I was taking advantage of him to end up with his number after that. I should have given him to one of the others. I shouldn't have let him give me his number." Steve protested, feeling unsure if they had handled everything in the best way.
"You are the only person I have ever met who thinks that getting the number of someone you find attractive is somehow a bad thing. This is why you're still single."
Basically giving Steve my gender here. In this he's genderfluid and uses various combinations of They/He/She pronouns, depending on the day I was at pride today (well, yesterday as it's now after midnight here), and this idea came to me on the way home. Also, idk how first aid services at events work in the US, so this is vaguely based off what I know from what I've seen in the UK.
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ladykailitha · 9 months
Text
Royal Pain Part 16
Hello, darlings! I wanted to get this to you before I got too busy and forgot. My birthday is on Monday and I'm having a party on Saturday that I'm preparing for today, tomorrow, and most the day Saturday. I hope to get something out during that time, but I might not be able to get it up until Sunday.
Also I found out I was accidentally tagging @chaoticlovingdreamer twice! I don't think it did anything, but it was funny it took me this long to catch on!
Speaking of tagging, it used to be easy to tag from a copied list, just click on name, select drop down, move on to the next. But for some stupid reason I can't anymore and have to delete the last character in their username to get it to pop up. Is anyone else having this problem or is it just my life deciding to make it more difficult again?
Today for your enjoyment: communication, drunk Robin, and soulmate bonding!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
***
Eddie crowed inside when Steve blushed at his comment. “And for record, sweetheart, I could see us tangled in your sheets. Not just the hot sex but everything before and after. All I’m asking is to take it slow.”
Steve gulped. “I’ll go at whatever speed you need, Eds. Honest. You set the pace.” He gave Eddie’s hand a squeeze. “And if you change your mind tomorrow, I’m down for that, too. If you decide we’re better as friends, I’ll be your best friend, okay?”
Eddie smiled. “I think Jeff and Robin might take offense to that.”
Steve laughed. “Nah, nah, Robin is my platonic soulmate, that’s separate from best friend.”
Eddie grinned. “I guess Jeff is more like family then a best friend. All the guys are.”
“There you have it,” Steve said smiling at him, merriment sparkling in his eyes.
They walked hand in hand all the way the way to the Rainbow High Club. They were forced to let go to flash their IDs, but they stayed close to each other, blushing and smiling at each other every time they caught the other’s eyes.
Chrissy’s eyes lit up. “How have I never heard of this place?” she asked, trying to take in as much of the sights as she could all at once. “It’s amazing.”
“Who’re the DDs tonight?” Robin asked, gleefully rubbing her hands together.
Steve, Gareth and Mandy all raise their hands. Eddie pouted.
“Stevie, you’re not drinking tonight?” he whined.
Steve laughed. “I’m working on your tattoo tomorrow, sunshine. I am not working on you hung over.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
*
Now that Eddie and Steve knew where they stood with each other, that last barrier of tension vanished between them. They were laughing more freely. Touching more readily. Just having a blast knowing the potential for more was there waiting for them when they were willing to take that step.
Steve knew where the line in the sand was now and cranked up the charm to eleven. Just being a gentleman.
Eddie ate up the attention like a sunflower in summer following the sun. He felt that last bit of worry just clatter to floor like a chain coming off of a worn gate after so many years being locked away.
Jeff and Mandy ate it up on the dance floor, pulling Gareth with them as they got the shyer man to come out of his shell a little bit.
Brian even managed to get the DJ to play a little metal. Steve sipped on a Coke and laughed as he watched his friends get silly on the dance. He had barely finished his drink when Robin grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor.
He cussed her out but she just kissed his cheek and told him to move his hips for fuck’s sake.
His dancing was terrible, but he let himself join the crowd and sway to the beat.
Eddie said in his ear, “You know in ‘Pride and Prejudice’ being a bad dancer meant you were bad at sex.”
Steve snorted. “Seriously?”
Eddie nodded. “So you know I’ve got to ask...”
“No, trust me when I say I tango better in bed than out of it,” Steve said with a giggle.
“You got receipts for that, big boy?” Eddie asked, dropping his voice low, startling a gasp out of Steve.
His giggle turned into a full on laugh. “You want a list of my very satisfied exes?”
“And their phone number,” Eddie teased back. “If you’re going to win me over Casanova, I’m gonna need references.”
“I think I can handle that,” Steve said in total seriousness.
Eddie pushed him away, a laugh stuttering out of him. “Get off, you menace. Jeez!”
Steve backed up, giving him the space. “You started it.”
“Sorry I forgot you were Mr Charm Everyone’s Panties Off in high school,” Eddie said rolling his eyes.
Steve chuckled. “I’ve still got it, I just don’t date much because I have to run a shop.”
Eddie leaned back in. “And honey, I’ve got nothing but time.”
Steve grinned.
*
At the bar a blond man with legs for days and a cocky grin leaned against the edge of the bartop with his elbows. Ink peaked out of the black tank top he was wearing and he had piercings in both ears and a snakebite piercing on his lower lip. He lowered his sunglasses as he watched Eddie and Steve on the dance floor. His bright blue eyes glittered with malice, the grin never leaving his face.
*
Steve got a giggling Robin up the stairs to their apartment and into her bed. He pulled off her jacket and shoes and rolled her under the covers. She made grabby hands at him when he stood back up.
“I’m going to get ready for bed and I’ll be right back,” he told her.
She pouted, but let him go.
Steve made a mad dash to his room, where he threw on his pajama pants and a faded band tee and rushed back to Robin’s room.
“Where you go?” she asked with a frown.
He shook his head and climbed into bed with her. She immediately latched to him like some kind of possessive sea creature. Like a an octopus or a barnacle.
“Why did you surround me with pretty girls?” she wailed. “All the pretty girls all at once.”
Steve snorted. Mandy and Chrissy were not ‘all’ by anyone’s stretch of the imagination.
“Mandy has a boyfriend,” he gently reminded her.
“Did you know she did ballet?” Robin whisper-yelled. “That’s why she has such long legs and great tits.”
“Yes, I was there when she told us,” Steve soothed.
“And Chrissy was athletic, too!” Robin continued. “Cheerleading is scary hot.”
Steve huffed out a small laugh. “What does that even mean?”
“The...” she made a weird motion with her hands, “and the woo...” she threw her arms in the air, “and the ‘yay!’ That’s scary.”
He rolled his eyes. “The tumbling?”
Robin hit his arm over and over. “That, that! Yes. And the hot is the uniform. Have you seen the uniform?” she growled.
Steve laughed. “I was in basketball, yes. You know one of the two sports that has cheerleaders?”
“The skirt is itty-bitty,” she slurred, putting her hands together as close as they would go without touching. “And no sleeves! Bare midriffs too. And and the cute little socks!”
“Can’t forget the cute little socks,” he agreed.
She slapped his arm again, this time harder. “And don’t you dare try to change the subject. I see you.” She pointed at her eyes and then at him, nearly poking his eye out.
“I didn’t change anything,” he muttered, “you started talking and haven’t stopped.”
“I saw you run the bathroom after the concert, gig, thingy...” she frowned. “What is it called the every day one not the tour-y one?”
“Gig,” Steve said gently.
Robin slapped his arm again. “Don’t change the subject!” she hissed. “You got hella horny watching your boy sing!” She threw out her arms and did hit him in the face that time.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I will be better prepared next time we go.”
“You have the hots for Eddie,” she said leaning in close.
But before Steve could answer, Robin was out cold. Her low tolerance for alcohol knocking her out at last. He carefully untangled himself from her embrace knowing that her drunken snoring would be like a buzzsaw in his ear if he slept in her room.
He pulled his shirt off and slipped into his own covers a smile on his face.
*
The next morning he had coffee and the greasiest breakfast sandwich he could find ready for his platonic soulmate when she staggered out of bed and into the kitchen. He handed her a small glass of water and painkillers, which she took under his watchful eye.
“I feel like I should hate for this,” she muttered into her steaming styrofoam cup.
Steve grinned, knowing full well that if laughed, she would straight on murder him and he really didn’t want to go yet.
“Also, don’t think you dodged the talk about you rushing to the bathroom after the show,” she grumped. “Because that was a bit pervy even for you.”
Steve rolled his eyes as he chowed down on his own less greasy sandwich. “I was totally unprepared for how hot he was that close up,” he snarked.
Robin raised an eyebrow. “He did seem particularly out to get you with that little number he was wearing last night.”
“Seriously,” he agreed. “But I’ll know better next time, plan ahead, sit behind the table.”
She giggled.
He propped his head on his hands, elbows planted on their counter. “But enough about that. I want to talk about two lovely blondes making goo-goo eyes at each other all night.”
She pushed his arm causing him to almost smack his face into the counter as he lost the support.
“Shut up,” Robin hissed. “She did not make goo-goo eyes at me all night. I would have noticed.”
Steve laughed. “I noticed you didn’t deny making goo-goo eyes at her.”
She blushed, and took a sip of her coffee to hide her embarrassment. “She’s so pretty and smart and how I am suppose to win her over when she so far out of my league.”
Steve came over and grabbed both of her cheeks in his hands. “Robin Eloise Buckley you are just as beautiful and smart and talented as she is. Just in a different way. I know right now you’re feeling morose because you have a hangover. So trust me in this moment, you are every bit as awesome as she is and if she doesn’t see that then we say?”
“Fuck that?” she whispered.
“I don’t think I heard you,” he said cocking the side of his head so he could tilt his right ear her direction.
“Fuck that,” Robin said with more conviction.
“There you go,” he said and gave her a fierce kiss on the forehead. “Now what I want you to do while I’m gone is watch the ‘Pride & Prejudice’ mini-series with that tub of Ben & Jerry’s I know you’ve been saving and when I’m done I’ll grab Chinese from that favorite shop on the corner, okay?”
She set the coffee down and gave him a fierce hug. “You’re the best soulmate a girl could ask for.”
Steve squeezed her back. “Hard same.”
She laughed. “You are such a dork.”
“Yes, but I’m your dork.”
***
Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1@a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat
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songbirdofthenight · 3 months
Text
Game Night!
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WC- 3092 (oops) Join my tag list- https://forms.gle/pEK2uw4zn2zsvBRv9
NSFW under cut <3 
Warnings- so much kissing. so many pet names. Kind of virgin!reader, slight exhibitionism, p in v sex, PROTECTION USED (yeehaw!), swearing, mentions of choking but not used,- Please tell me if I missed anything! 
Characters- fem!reader X Steve Harrington
Other- Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson 
Summary- It’s game night in your shared apartment (reader and Robin), and you decide to tuck yourself away early. Amidst the conversation and card shuffling, Steve sneaks away to see you. One thing leads to another and a lack of clothing later, you find yourselves tangled within each others limbs unable to break away. 
Robin and Eddie may have gone a bit overboard. They stood over the end of your kitchen table admiring the stack of board games they somehow managed to carry over. 
“Do we really need this many?” Nancy questioned, counting the nineteen tiers of the great game tower. Robin nodded, “we have to have options don’t we?” 
After maybe 10 minutes of hearing Steve and Eddie bicker back and forth about which game would be longest to play- turns out Monopoly won. Because of this, Monopoly was not the game of choice. Eventually you had all decided on UNO and little to his knowledge, Eddie learned just how painfully long UNO could be compared to Monopoly. “How long has this game gone on for, we’re only in round one?” Eddie moaned, flashing his hand of 18 cards up for everyone to see, there was no way he was winning. “Uh, maybe half an hour?” Steve shrugged, “it’s not that bad, we could be done within the next few minutes, you never know.” Your turn rolled around as everyone played their cards, very fortunately for you keeping the top card yellow. In your hand you held four cards: two green reverse cards, one red eight, and a yellow skip. Unfortunately for the never ending game, beside you sat Eddie who watched as you placed the skip card onto the pile. “NOPE. I’M DONE!” Eddie shouted, tossing his cards face up on the table showing the group his rainbow of digits and unhelpful cards. “Aw, Eds, did we deal you a bad hand?” you faked sympathy. 
“Deal me a bad hand, DUH… I can’t believe I have been betrayed by my best friends, Jesus, what is this? Not a single useful card and I get skipped?!” 
“It’s just a game, dude, not life or death.” Robin chimed in. 
“Well it could be life or death, this is the crew to have done it all.” Steve said under his breath, earning a little giggle from you. “Okay, well, new game.” Eddie said, gathering the cards from the table. “Anyone up for Monopoly?” 
Everyone nodded clearing space for the board to be set up. “I think I might turn in for the night,” You said, picking yourself up from your seat. Robin and Eddie booed as you cleared the table of its empty chip bags and candy wrappers hoping later they would follow just the same. Nancy joined you cleaning the empty cups and putting away the half finished litre of Coke in the fridge. “Did you have fun making Eddie cry?” Nancy laughed. You smiled, placing the cups from her hands into your dishwasher, “yeah, you know it’ll happen next week too.” “‘Night everyone!” you shouted walking into your room as Steve and Eddie put together the game board. “‘Night cheater,” Eddie shouted back. “Come on, Eddie, she didn’t cheat.” Steve nudged him. 
“Yeah Eds, didn’t cheat… this time.” You teased shutting your door. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS TIME?” you heard him shout from the dining room. You knew eventually Steve would join you, which either meant he won the game and didn’t want to deal with Eddie shouting about it, or there was no chance he would win and no point in continuing. Between now and then, whichever outcome it may be, you cozied yourself up in one of his shirts- which you lovingly stole- and a pair of shorts. There wasn’t much in your small room, a few band posters of shows you had gone to, a little bookshelf beside your dresser filled with books and VHS tapes you’d been meaning to return, on top of the shelf was a small record player and stack of only the best music of all time. To pass the time you decided to play a record by Modern English. Song after song played while various cheers and disgruntled shouting happened outside your door, you laid on the edge of your bed flipping through the pages of a book you had picked up at the library. 
After about an hour, you heard a soft knock on your door. “Still awake in there?” You popped up, opening the door for Steve, “Hi baby, did you win?” Steve shook his head, “No, I was dead last for the past twenty minutes. Then Eddie and Nancy decided to argue over rules for a while and I just slipped away. Think they’re gonna notice?” You giggled pulling him in. Steve kicked the door closed behind him. From the dining room you heard some murmurs of Nancy reading out each rule of the game. “Are you tired, pretty girl?” Steve asked, holding you close. You shook your head, “Not really, Stevie. Happy to see you though,” Steve hummed, pecking your forehead. “What would you like to do then?” “I dunno, Stevie, could go for another kiss though.” You smiled up at him. “‘Course pretty girl.” Steve said, catching your lips with his. You and Steve had been together for a while now, though you’d not really explored intimacy other than a few gentle touches and one-off makeout sessions in his car. Steve broke away after a moment, to your dislike. “We should take this away from your doorway, yeah?” You nodded agreeing. You pattered over to your bed, taking a seat on the edge with your legs spread wide. “C’mon Stevie,” you teased. 
Steve’s eyes focused themselves on your figure as he made his way over to you. “Gonna let me take care of you, right baby? Can I?” He sounded breathless just at the sight of you. “Mhm, gonna let you do whatever Stevie,” you smiled at him. Steve dropped to his knees in front of you, reaching for your face. “God, you are so perfect.” You giggled as your lips met again, restarting the small spark you’d had before. 
Steve leaned into you, pressing deeper into the kiss. He sucked gently on your bottom lip, letting his tongue slide gently across. Your jaw fell slightly, allowing him entrance. Steve’s tongue swirled around yours, exploring any space he possibly could. For a second you broke apart, each catching your breaths. 
“Stevie?” 
“Yes, angel?” “Need you.” Steve’s heart nearly pounded out of his chest at your words. “You sure, honey? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this,” he trailed. You nodded quickly, “Yeah, m’ready Stevie, don’t wanna keep waiting.” Steve pulled himself up from the floor, hovering over you. “You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable or need to stop?” He wanted to know that you were serious, and if things became too much or uncomfortable you would tell him. “Yes,” you spoke softly. 
Steve leaned down, his cheek pressed softly against yours as he whispered in your ear, “I didn’t quite catch that. Are you going to be a good girl and tell me if it's too much?” His words sparked electricity through every nerve in your body. “Yeah, yes, I’m gonna tell you, gonna be good.” His hands weren’t even on you and you started to become a mess beneath him. “Gotta keep it quiet too, we can’t have everyone else knowing how pretty you sound. They’ll be jealous,” Steve half joked. You nodded agreeing with him, keep it quiet. Lucky for you both the record you had put on prior to this still had a little play time left which allowed some distortion of noise that could cover the soft moans and whimpers you’d likely be letting out. Above you, Steve removed his shirt and tossed it to the side of your bed. His hands wandered to the hemline of yours, pausing for a moment asking for permission. You raised your arms in the air letting him strip you. Your nipples beaded as your shirt came off in the cold air. Steve’s hands carefully floated across your skin, down your chest and stomach, to the waistband of your shorts. You hesitated for a moment and shook your head, “not yet please.” Steve moved his hands back to your hips, “Okay, pretty girl, thank you for tellin’ me.” 
Steve knew what some of your limits were, though you hadn’t really explored much other than his hands squeezing at your tits and ass from time to time. You had wanted to explore more, maybe a gentle squeeze around your neck or bringing you just so close to the edge and suddenly stopping anything you two would do. After all, you were curious what it all felt like. It’s not that Steve hadn’t touched you before, in fact, his hand was probably in your panties more than it had ever touched homework when you were back in high school. His curious hands would find themselves sliding down your stomach and fingers quickly finding your clit. As good as that was, it was never enough. 
Steve placed his hand gently between your breasts, pressing you back into your mattress. Once you were fully laid back, Steve slid his hand up towards the base of your neck, resting there as you took slow breaths. “Are you still good, honey? Tell me what you need.” “Gotta have you on top, Stevie, need you on top.” You huffed out, pulling his hips on top of you. “Okay, okay, I’m getting there.” Stevie laughed, propping himself up on top of you. In his new position he planted a kiss onto the tip of your nose, hooking one arm under your shoulder and the other pressed into the mattress beside your chest. 
“Hi baby,” 
“Hi Stevie,” 
His hand carefully trailed up the side of your breast, lighting up each nerve ending as his warm skin enveloped your sensitive chest. Steve’s lips kissed their way around your neck, as you squirmed flusteredly beneath him. “You wanna hold still for me, pretty girl? Let me take care of you?” he whispered lowly in your ear. “M’trying so hard, just so good, gotta distract myself.” “Oh? Why is that?” 
“Well,” you started anxiously, “I don’t wanna accidentally…” 
“Accidentally?” He teased, Steve’s lips pressed themselves to yours, his teeth catching your bottom lip. Steve’s hand groped your chest, his fingers searching for your nipple. As they found it he took his pointer and thumb, gently making circles with your pebbling bud. You let out a soft gasp. Steve’s lips travelled down your neck, landing on your tit, kissing, licking, biting all over. Slowly he moved closer, letting his tongue slide over your nipple earning yelps with each pass. “Stevie…” you whined. Steve’s lips wrapped around the center of your tit sucking with no intent to stop. “Stevie!!!” whines quickly became moans, soft ‘ohs’ spilling from your lips. Steve’s hand flew from your side and slapped over your mouth, he sucked harder, flicking his tongue across your sensitive nipple. Your back arched off of your mattress as he switched sides letting the cool air hit your chest. Steve’s mouth sucked painfully, pleasuring each of your tits as he switched sides, between using his mouth and his fingers to flick your poor abused buds. “N-need you, Stevie.” You tried to speak but his hand muffled the sound. Your hips rocked against his thigh trying to create the friction you lacked. Steve’s leg pressed harder and harder against you equally, poorly, attempting to add friction. With one breath, Steve lifted his head from your chest, readjusting himself above you. He sat upright, beside you, undoing his pants button. “Pants off?” “Pants off, please. Now, gotta do it now, need you.” You urged. Steve stood, quickly yanking his jeans from his body, tossing them to the side. He carefully traced his hands across your sides, slipping his fingers into your waistbands. He paused a minute waiting for a nod of approval, your head nodded fervently. Steve lifted your hips plucking your shorts and panties from your body and carefully placed them close by. Once again, Steve found himself propped on top of you. One hand placed gently beside your head and the other travelling lower and lower until he reached your pubic bone. “Now, pretty baby, you have to promise me you’ll be quiet if you want me to keep going.” “Promise, I promise, swear Stevie.” With that, Steve planted his lips between yours with his fingers easily sliding onto your clit. The new sensation earned a loud whine caught in his mouth. Steve continued, pressing circles on your clit, sucking at your lips to keep you as quiet as possible. You mumbled more in between kisses as his fingers prodded into your soaking cunt. Steve watched as your head tilted further back with each pulse of his fingers.
After what felt like an eternity of thick, pumping fingers in your pussy, Steve finally eased up. He shuffled awkwardly above you, stuffing his sticky fingers into your mouth. “Be a good girl and suck for me.” You nodded, obliging. Steve shoved his fingers further into your throat as you lapped and licked around them. 
“Wanna give you my cock, baby, can I?” He sounded pathetic, begging you with his fingers in your throat to stuff your cunt. He removed his fingers from your mouth giving you a moment to breathe and respond. “H-ha, have a condom?” Steve nodded, practically jumping up to grab for his pants, grabbing the condom from one of the pockets. “Gotta keep one on me, just for you baby, anytime you want it.”
With a few minutes of careful consideration and readjusting, you smiled at Steve. “I want this.” His face lit up, “I’m going to be so gentle with you baby, just tell me and I’ll stop okay?” “Okay,” you nodded. “Gotta stay quiet for me too honey. Think you can?”
“Uh huh,” 
“Good girl.” Steve’s hand captured yours, pressing it beside your cheek into the mattress. His other, holding his cock as he gently fit the tip into your throbbing pussy. Soft moans spilled from your lips as you adjusted, enjoying the new feeling. Steve pressed further and further into you as each inch of him sank into your soaking folds. “That’s it, honey. Just relax okay? Gonna take real good care of ya.” Your brain was melting into a puddle of pleasure, letting each inch roll into you like small waves on the beach. Steve stopped before fully bottoming out, making sure you had just enough of him to reach the same places he knew his fingers did without overstimulating you. Slowly, he thrusted in and out of your tight hole, earning more and more moans from you with each movement. “God, that's it baby, sound and feel so good.” He moaned in response. At this point you knew words were impossible, he just felt so good. His hand went from holding his cock back to massaging your clit. His face lowered to your ear, huffing hot, whiney, needy breaths. The stimulation and sound combined bubbled in your abdomen presenting a new sensation. Your pussy squeezed around his cock with each thrust. “Oh?” You moaned, though sounding concerned. Steve noticed, “you okay, wanna stop?” You shook your head “nuh uh, think I’m…” you were quickly cut off as the feeling surged in intensity. This was a new feeling. Getting close to cumming was far from anywhere Steve had ever taken you, disappointing then and now extremely overwhelming. You felt your orgasm surge through each nerve in your body, every ending busting like fireworks. Your jaw dropped, body rocking equally with his. You both paid no mind to the rule of keeping quiet as wanton moans filled the silent air around you. Your cunt fluttered around his cock as you cried out. “Cumming, Stevie, oh fuck, fuck…” Your body practically thrashed against the bed, as you came. Steve’s brows knit together, chasing after his own orgasm, moaning hotly in your ear. His pace sped up, fucking you harder through yours. It didn’t take much longer for Steve to come undone. With a soft voice he whined out, “cummin’ honey, so good.” 
Steve’s thrusts slowed. His hand pressed slower and slower circles into your clit as he pulled himself out of your cunt. You made a disgruntled sound, unhappy with the sudden emptiness you felt. Steve pulled a blanket over you, picking himself up. He removed, knotted, and tossed the used condom in the trash bin by your door and pulled his boxers back on. You lay out of breath as Steve picked up his shirt and your panties. “Can I put these back on you, honey?” he asked sweetly. You nodded and Steve placed them beside you. “Wait, gotta clean you up first. I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I left my girlfriend like this. Be right back?” You smiled up at him, “okay Stevie.” Steve quickly pulled on his shirt and opened your door. Outside, sat still at the kitchen table was Robin, Nancy, and Eddie staring. “So you both owe me $10. I told you they were gonna do it.” Eddie smirked, extending his hands out towards Robin and Nancy. “Oh fuck you,” Nancy spat back reaching into her coat pocket. 
“We did not shake on this.” Robin shook her head. “Well you owe me, soooooo…” Steve shook his head, “you did not bet on us having sex…” “Well we did only after the first hundred or so moans.” Robin laughed. Steve shrugged them off, grabbing a washcloth from your bathroom and running it under the faucet. He stepped out, looking back at the three, “I swear if you say anything to her about this,” Eddie shook his head “nooooo, what, no never.” Steve rolled his eyes walking back into your room. “So they know?” 
“They know.” 
You collapsed back against your mattress as Steve once again shut the door, making his way back to you. “I’m gonna clean you up now okay?” “Okay baby, be gentle?” “The gentlest.” Steve gently pressed the cloth between your legs. You jumped at the discomfort, slowly easing into the feeling. Steve took his time to carefully clean you up, slowing down with any notions of discomfort. He finished quickly, tossing the cloth to the floor beside your laundry. Steve pulled your panties back between your legs, reaching for your shirt. “No, baby, not yet.” 
“No shirt?” 
“No shirt. Just not yet?” Steve laid beside you, pulling you close to his chest. “Anything for you honey, you were so good for me.” You lay curled in his chest, drifting off to sleep. Steve pressed a kiss into your forehead, “I love you.” “Love you too, Stevie.” you mumbled back as you both fell asleep in each other’s arms.  Tag list- @micheledawn1975 @asimpforthe80s Join the tag list here https://forms.gle/pEK2uw4zn2zsvBRv9 Anons and Reqs are open! Stop by and say hi anytime!
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talesfromthesnogbox · 10 months
Text
Nailed It
Summary: Eddie paints Steve's nails, Steve realizes some stuff. That's it, that's the fic.
Words: 1,745
Notes: This is all because I got my nails done on the weekend and thought "hmm, it's like super intimate having someone touch your hands for the better part of an hour"
AO3
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“So, whaddya say Harrington, yours next?”
His Saturday afternoons off had become Steve’s sacred Eddie days. He loved hanging out with Robin, but she usually worked the closing shift Saturday, and ever since adopting Eddie into their rag-tag group, Steve found himself wanting to hang out with him more.
On this particular Saturday afternoon, Steve and Eddie found themselves in Eddie’s messy bedroom of the new townhouse the government had gifted the Munsons. It wasn’t anything unusual for them, lounging on Eddie’s bed, a joint half-smoked between the two of them, a Bowie tape on in the background. But today, Eddie had pulled out something new.
From his closet, he’d pulled a dusty basket out, filled with nail polish in a rainbow of shades. He’d picked a forest green one, and got to work on himself, buffing his nails carefully and painting the varnish in smooth coats. Steve watched aptly, almost missing Eddie’s question.
“Sorry?”
Eddie smirked, and gestured to the basket. “Pick a shade, you want in?” 
Steve scoffed. “Isn’t nail polish—”
“Dude, if the next words outta your mouth are ‘for girls’, I—”
“No! No, that’s… I just… I don’t think it really fits my whole…” Steve waved his hands around his torso. “You know? You’re… well you’re you, it goes with the whole metal thing. I’m…”
“Hawkins royalty?” Eddie deadpanned.
“Come on, that’s not what I meant. You don’t think it would look out of place wearing black nail polish with my whole… I dunno… prep thing?”
The other boy scoffed. “Who said it had to be black polish? There’s a world of colour here Harrington, pick one.”
Steve eyed the basket carefully, looking through all the options. Eddie really did have a wide array of colours to choose from. It was clear Eddie used nail polish as yet another way to express his loud personality, stomping over gender norms and challenging people’s perception of who he is by the array of soft pinks next to the shiny black and vibrant red. He thumbed over the tops, picking up a few colours he thought could look nice, pretty even. 
It had taken El calling Steve pretty for him to understand that it wasn’t just something you could call girls. Boys could be pretty too, hell he’d even thought that on a few occasions, seeing men in passing with soft billowy shirts and perfectly coiffed hair. Steve looked back up at Eddie, his tongue between his lips as he focused on steadying his non-dominant hand, his hair half tied up falling in his eyes… and oh, he thought, a moment of understanding washing over him, Eddie is also sort of… pretty.
His cheeks burned red and he turned his attention back to the basket of varnish in front of him, picking a random colour from the bunch. It was fairly neutral, a soft terra cotta orangey brown that didn’t seem to be totally opaque; he thought it would look nice against his skin. “This one?”
Eddie nodded his head in approval of Steve’s choice, shaking his hands to dry the paint on his own nails. “Go wash your hands, scrub the gunk under your nails, I’ll start after mine are dry.”
Once Steve’s hands were sufficiently clean, Eddie got to work. He shook the bottle and twirled it between his hands, then took Steve’s hands in his to inspect his canvas. Steve almost immediately flushed. 
You see, Steve loved holding hands with the girls he’d dated. It was customary to hold a girl’s hand while you walked, or over the table waiting for dinner, but he’d never had his hands held so delicately by someone else.
Eddie thumbed over Steve’s nails, checking for rough or sharp edges. He definitely didn’t notice how Steve gawked at him.
“Looks good man, tell me if you hate the colour and I can start over.” 
Steve nodded, speechless in the moment while Eddie shook the little bottle again and twisted the lid. He took Steve’s hand again, shaking it a little.
“Dude, let go, you’re tense as hell.” 
Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, just not used to this.”
“Don’t worry big boy, I’ve gotcha.” Eddie threw to him with a wink.
Steve flushed at Eddie’s words, watching him go to work on his nails. The other boy was once again lost in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips as he swiped the paint over Steve’s pinky finger. He gave Steve a look, searching for approval with the colour, which Steve nodded to, and let Eddie continue. 
It was a wonder to Steve just how soft Eddie’s touch was. His hands were rough in a way that he could tell Eddie had been helping his uncle with their new vegetable garden in the backyard, the tips of his fingers calloused from playing his Warlock. But despite all that, his touch was just so damn gentle. Loud, boisterous Eddie with the touch of an angel.
“You good up there Steve-o?”
Steve blinked, and shook some hair from his eyes, coming out of his Eddie-induced trance. “What? Yeah, yeah I’m fine, why?”
“Well I’ve asked you like three times what you think Robin is gonna say about this.”
“O-oh.” Steve chuckled as a deep flush painted his cheeks. “Robs will love it, she’s begged me to let her paint my nails every time she stays the night like a ‘proper slumber party’, maybe I’ll actually let her do it sometime.”
“Oh? And why haven’t you?”
She’s not you. 
Steve shrugged away his answer, brushing off Eddie’s question. Every instinct within him told him to flirt, but this was Eddie, this wasn’t some random Hawkins girl he’d met up with on a whim. The Harrington Charm™ wasn’t meant for just anybody and —oh… did he want to flirt with Eddie? 
“Dude.” Eddie snorted. “You look like you just saw a ghost. You’re not gonna hurl on me, are you?” 
“You wish Munson.” What???
Eddie’s brow furrowed and he paused. “No, I really don’t actually.”
“Yeah, no you’re right.”
The other boy tightened the cap on the nail polish bottle, setting it aside. “Are you like… good? Like are you okay man?” 
Steve straightened, taken aback by Eddie’s question. “Yeah, yeah! Totally. I’m great, I’m just…” Eddie looked at him expectantly as he looked down to check out his nails. “Do you think they need another coat?”
Eddie smiled and took Steve’s hands again. “That can definitely be done. But I think they need to dry off a bit more first.” 
“Cool.” Steve and Eddie locked eyes, Eddie still holding Steve’s hands. 
“I can like… let go if you want me to.” 
“Yeah… no… yeah I’m good like this.” 
“Cool.” Eddie echoed Steve, not letting go. A few moments passed, before Eddie broke the tension with a sharp inhale. “Alright I think they’re dry enough for round two.” He got back to work, and this time, Steve had no issue unabashedly staring at his friend.
The tongue poke of concentration was back, and Steve wondered if he even knew he was doing it. His hair was a mess as per usual, but today he’d pulled the upper half of it back into a messy bun, leaving his neck exposed. His jaw looked strong, clenched, and his neck long and biteable. Biteable. I’ve never thought someone’s neck looked biteable. Eddie wore a tank top today, loose around his thin frame, but Steve noticed the definition in his arms; it was clear that toting around amps for Corroded Coffin had been paying off, among other things.
But still, his touch was so incredibly soft. 
People had Eddie all wrong. Sure, he was an oddball at times, making nerdy references, listening to loud music, wearing all the chains and the leather and the hanky that alluded to his preference for S&M, but he wasn’t some big scary mean nerd. Eddie could be a lot, but he could also be caring, and sensitive, and funny. He didn’t take bullshit from his friends, he held his inner circle to a higher standard, and knew that they’d expect that of him in return. Eddie was good, and oh god, do I have a crush on Eddie? 
Steve flinched with the realization, Eddie smacked his hand, bringing him back to the present. “Gonna make me get it all over you, hold still.” And wasn’t that something Steve had probably said in a much different scenario.
When he was done, Eddie pulled Steve’s hands up to eye-level to admire his work. “Not bad, usually Red complains that the colour bled into her cuticles but I think she just likes to complain. Whaddya think?”
Steve (reluctantly) took one of his hands out of Eddie’s grasp to look at his newly painted nails. It actually looked quite nice, and something about the fresh coat of paint made him feel different, like he was breaking out of a mould he once shaped.
“It looks awesome, thanks man.”
Eddie smiled bashfully, fiddling with the bottle. “No sweat. Hey, give it a sec and I’ll give you some lotion.” He pulled out a green tube and spread a dollop on each of Steve’s palms. “Wayne swears by this stuff in the winter, his knuckles get really bad.” With both of his thumbs, Eddie got to work rubbing the lotion into Steve’s palms and over his knuckles. “Wouldn’t be a proper manicure without a little massage, would it.”
All thoughts left Steve’s brain, it felt like Eddie’s fingers left a trail of fire where they went, gently but firmly coating his hands with lotion. It was good, Steve was relaxed, and he felt closer to Eddie than he ever had… but he didn’t want to move away.
“There. Now you’re done.” Eddie brushed his thumbs lightly over Steve’s palms, still not letting his hands go.
“Hey Eds?” Eddie quirked his brow in response. “You wanna grab dinner?” 
Eddie’s face was unreadable. “Like… out somewhere?”
“Yeah.” Steve paused. He’d never asked out a guy before, would Eddie think he was asking him to dinner just because he was the only gay guy Steve knew? Would he think Steve was trying to make fun of him? “Or, I dunno, we could order a pizza or something.” Nailed it coward.
The other boy smiled. “Sure Harrington, but if you fuck up those nails with pizza grease or something, I’m not redoing them.” 
Steve chuckled and smacked Eddie’s arm lightly. Maybe next time.
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gaypirateslife4me · 5 months
Text
I survived Buffy and Faith. (BtVS)
I survived Dean and Cas. (SPN)
I survived Olivia and Alex. (SVU)
I survived Sherlock and Watson. (Sherlock)
I survived Bucky and Steve, AND Sam and Steve, AND Bucky and Sam. (MCU)
I survived Clark and Lexa (t100).
I am currently surviving Will and Mike, Steve and Eddie, AND Nancy and Robin. (Stranger Things)
I have suffered through: queerbaiting; "everyone experiments in college"; queer coded? - they must be the villain!; "the inherent tragedy of gayness" (repression, AIDs, violence, hatred); girl-on-girl male fanservice; "pray the gay away"; and, most personally painful, "bisexuals aren't real, they just need to pick a side". (I mean, I am though?)
I have been fully and irrevocably traumatized by having to watch my beloved queers be buried over & over & over.
I have literally spent three-and-a-half decades in a toxic, abusive relationship with (not so) queer media.
Upon recommendation of multiple queer friends, I (skeptically, cynically, borderline angrily) watched their so-called "GAY PIRATE (affectionate)" comedy, and was gobsmacked.
Our Flag Means Death gave us: well-rounded characters that are 'no-room-for-guessing, even-your-deeply-repressed-insufferable-republican-uncle-can-see-it queer! Multiple queers with disabilities! Neurodivergent queers! A genderqueer pirate so slay I lose my breath every time they are on screen! Sex between mlm not reduced to 1) tittilation or 2) the raunchy punchline of a mean joke! An unapologetic celebration of Found Family! Drag treated with respect, and as a catalyst for openly queer joy! A fabulous gay wedding! And that's not to mention the loving, romantic, complicated, vulnerable, beautiful relationship between the two male protagonists!
I saw it. with my own two eyeballs. for the first time ever. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I assumed everyone must be as thrilled, honored, and overjoyed as I am for all the rep, positivity, and LOVE.
I was wrong.
It breaks my queer little heart that so many people on this glorious hellsite are furious, indignant, and quick to cancel the characters, the actors, the writers, and the showrunners for not being spoon-fed perfect queer characters in perfect queer relationships for perfect queer rep in ACTUAL queer media that exists! In canon!
It hurts to be vilified for being a fan who refuses to condemn the show and for loving concerningly imperfect and deeply-flawed queer characters.
I am sorry, but as far as I'm concerned, LOVE WON. We won. Please stop coming into my house (blog) and pissing all over my rainbow parade.
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exhuastedpigeon · 1 day
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Not gonna lie, I've been really struggling to write since I wrote my last fic. It kind of feels like all of my writing beans left me when I posted it, but this lil game makes me really want to write.
How many works do you have on ao3? 155 (holy shit????)
What's your total ao3 word count? 682,114
What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Mostly 9-1-1, but occasionally Teen Wolf stuff
Top five fics by kudos: 1. Queer Robins Club 5246 kudos DC | Mature | 4.9k words
2. Dustin's Dad(s) 3783 kudos Steddie | Teen | 5.2k words
3. give me a sign, I want you next to me 2528 kudos Buddie | Teen | 7k words
4. let me see them tan lines 2399 kudos Buddie | Teen | 2.8k words
5. On the Ropes 2349 kudos Sterek | Teen | 5.4k words
Do you respond to comments? Yes! I try to respond to every comment!
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? With a Whimper probably. It's also the only first person POV fic I've ever written lol.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Basically all of my fics have happy/hopeful endings? Maybe there ain't no turning back?
Do you get hate on fics? I have before but not recently!
Do you write smut? I do :)
Craziest crossover: Back Alley Deals is a crossover between Batman and Teen Wolf where Stiles goes to Gotham and ends up hooking up with Jason Todd.
Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yeah a couple times in the Sterek fandom! I don't found out because some friends found them.
Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! A few of them have been. I'm always open to translations.
Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! There was a Jaytim WIP exchange last year that I took part in.
All time favourite ship? I can't pick one? Either Sterek or Buddie probably.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Right now it feels like all of them, but probably my fic affectionately titled The Repression Symphony where I go through the movements of a symphony and dive into Eddie's religious trauma.
What are your writing strengths? I think dialogue and descriptions probably.
What are your writing weaknesses? Endings are hard!
Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I don't really do it because I only speak English I don't want to use google translate to write it.
First fandom you wrote in? Harry Potter
Favourite fic you've written? I can't pick one!!!
give your heart and soul to charity Teen | 12.5k | Buddie Eddie finally address his Catholic trauma and guilt.
lay your cards down, down, down Mature | 6.3k | Buddie Buck and Eddie wake up married in Vegas
there ain't no turning back Explicit | 28.3k | Buddie Buddie healing road trip, my beloved
every road and every highway led me right back to your door Teen | 2.5k | Sterek A woman gives Derek a baby and then turns to mist, he calls Stiles.
it hurts to hope for more Mature | 15.6k | Buddie Buck experiences a major non-romantic heartbreak and is forced to look at his life in a new way.
Tagged by @honestlydarkprincess @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @wikiangela
@jesuiscenseedormir @cal-daisies-and-briars @bi-buckrights @neverevan
No pressure tagging @rosieposiepuddingnpie @inell @sunshinediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns
@elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @shitouttabuck @thekristen999 @thewolvesof1998
@acountrygirlsfun @actualalligator @tizniz @rainbow-nerdss @eddiebabygirldiaz
@generatorcat @glaciya @withmyteeth @loserdiaz @monsterrae1
@spotsandsocks @underwaterninja13 @steadfastsaturnsrings @jesuisici33 @wildlife4life
and anyone else who wants to share!
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chaosgremlinmunson · 24 days
Text
Rocker Stevie
Might be part one.
Diane: So let's set the scene, it's 1988, you're newly 21. You are top of the charts bubblegum pop princess Stevie Hendrix. You're married to top selling actor Tommy Hagan known for his action films and beach body. You just won two Grammys that year, and then, what happened?
Stevie: So, like you said. I was newly 21, I married my highschool sweetheart who'd reached stardom right alongside me as an actor instead of in music, which, honestly Diane, thank God for that. The man has no idea how to hold a tune, he'd likely make a dying cat sound like a siren. Laugh No, really! It's that bad! Anyway, I was fresh off my latest tour for Rainbows and Leather and came home to see my darling husband. I was so excited I'd been missing him, you know. Well, I walked into the house and what did I find? My husband, in bed butt naked with my Best friend and his personal assistant at my behest, Carol Perkins. To tell you the fallout from that was anything less than apocalyptic would be selling it short.
Diane: So after the absolutely dramatic divorce, you decided to change genres? Why Rock?
Stevie: Rock spoke to my soul, I wrote ‘I wanna ghost myself’ one night drunk on apple spritzers with my sister Robin, and her best friend Eddie. They'd been in my corner from the start, but Eddie and I always nipped at each other about our music tastes, then that night he picked up his guitar and started playing and ‘I wanna ghost myself' just flowed out. I was laid out on the floor by the ending between lighter and tears, and just felt so free. So like myself. And that was it, Stevie hung up her rainbows and sunshine and embraced her chaos and revenge.
Diane: So where did the lyrics 'think I'll take my heart and throw it off a cliff, yeah I have a feeling that it won't be missed” come from?
Stevie: You have to understand, I was devastated by what Tommy did. I had only ever been with him to that point in my life, he'd made me believe he was the only one for me. That without him my life would feel meaningless because up to that point every moment together he showered me in affection and praise. He was the ideal husband on the surface, and then I found out he'd been having an affair with Carol for literal years. Everyone knew except for me, and I was crushed. ‘Think I'll take my heart and throw it off a cliff’ was me almost literally saying my heart is broken and I don't want to feel anymore. I became wild and lost myself to the music. Eddie wrapped me in leather and lace and asked me to be the front woman for his band. I was shocked, because honestly was I going to make it delving into a whole new genre? I'd already come to the end of my contract with Upside Down records, so I wasn't concerned about what my team thought. However, my fan base? Would they still love me the same, would I make it? I was scared, and then we had our first show. It was small, and it was a test for me to see if I could do this. The world caught fire for me that night, and I never looked back.
Diane: So let's fast forward, finally Devil's Prey became a household name, and Stevie Hendrix was a sensation. What happened the night of the music awards, in your own words.
Stevie: So, for years I'd gone by Stevie Hendrix so no one would know who I was. It was mid set for ‘Bulletproof’ and as I turned the lights cut out and a picture lit up the screen. It was a photo of me on my wedding day, my eyes crossed out and ‘Stefania Harrington the Whore’ written across my body as I stood between Tommy, his old friend Billy, and Jason Carver. I screamed, and looked back at the audience just as Eddie tackled me to the ground and a shot whipped past my head.
Diane: So Eddie Munson saved you that day?
Stevie: Yes, he did. He held me while I sobbed in the green room. I never knew someone could be so hateful just because my songs brought what they'd done to light, but there I was running for my life while the security detail searched for the gunman. Eddie was furious, he held onto me and told me we were going to my place with his security, to pack up my things and come to his. See, Eddie lived in a damn near impenetrable home, there was no way anyone could get to me there. Of course I wanted to fight him on it, but I'm just a girl at the end of the day, and Eddie Munson has an energy you just don't fight when it's directed at you.
Diane: So you moved in that night?
Stevie: Yes. Eddie was my shadow for days, I barely could use the restroom without him following me around. It was aggravating at times, but I saw how scared he was when he wasn't in the spot he could see me.
Diane: He was traumatized.
Stevie: He was traumatized and he was ready to follow me to hell if he needed just to make sure I was safe. I never knew what love was until I was met with the force of Eddie Munson’s protection. He woke my dead heart up again, and I was doomed from the start.
Diane: So eventually the agents you had investigating the shooting found out who shot that gun, and who hired him.
Stevie: I need a minute before we talk about this. Let me just grab a water and ask Eddie to come sit with me.
Diane: Take your time.
Stevie and Eddie walk back in, they're holding hands and Eddie is murmuring to Stevie who's looking like she may just pass out from nerves. She squeezes Eddie's hand and takes a seat, Eddie sits beside her his fingers laced with hers.
Stevie: Okay, I'm ready. Breathes in deeply So Jim Hopper was the head agent on the investigative team. He had become something like a father figure to Robin and I over the years after my parents’ accident. When Jim came into Eddie's house his face was drawn, and I knew then that the people who had attacked me knew me. He sat me down and told me as gently as possible that Tommy had asked Billy to do the job. He was furious at my songs, and apparently the fan base put two and two together and his career began to tank. People were boycotting his movies. I didn't know, I swear, I just wanted my freedom and an outlet for all my pain. I deserve to have that without someone threatening me, you know? Tommy had hired Jason who was in tech support to upload the photo in the middle of our set. It was this whole plot. Make me pay in the most public way possible.
Eddie: I wanted to rip them apart. Stevie was distraught, she is such a good person. And if I could take her pain away I would, happily.
Stevie: I know you would, but you going to prison wouldn't have helped me. I need you here Eddie.
Eddie: I'm not leaving, not ever.
Stevie: So the trial came and went. They'd found loads of evidence in Tommy's apartment, through the baking records, phone records. I mean they pretty much wrote out in neon lights that they planned to kill me. Laughs incredulously All because Tommy couldn't handle the consequences of being a shitty husband?
Eddie: He never deserved you, Stevie.
Stevie: blushes and ducks her head Oh hush you big sap.
Diane: So the bad guys are caught, you're safe now, what does the future hold for Stevie Hendrix?
Stevie: More Rock and Roll obviously, but therapy to deal with the trauma. Mandatory family nights. Just things to help me feel back to myself.
Eddie: Hopefully a wedding soon, too. That is if you say yes. Eddie Munson sank to one knee reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring. Stevie stared at him, her eyes glassy before grabbing him by his curls and kissing him, she giggled a yes, and he slipped the ring on her finger. She said yes!
Stevie: I said yes. I love you Eddie Munson.
Diane: I'm so happy for you both!
Eddie: I love you Stevie Hendrix, I can't wait to be Mr. Hendrix!
Diane: Well, It was lovely sitting with you for this interview. Thank you for agreeing to be on my show, and I can't wait to see the wedding photos one day.
Stevie: See the photos? Diane, you're invited to the wedding!
Diane: Oh wow! I'd be honored.
Stevie and Eddie stood and walked off the stage where Robin stood, her face lit in a blinding grin, she embraced her sister letting out a laugh and they both turned to wave to Diane who smiled and waved back. The show was over, but Stevie’s life was only just beginning.
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sinnerlillith · 2 years
Text
stay strapped
he’s called “Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson” for a reason ok. that reason is: he likes being pegged.
Includes: established friends with benefits relationship, praise kink, sub eddie, dom (F) reader, strap on, Eddie gets called a pervert, missionary, choking, finger gag, finger sucking, begging, anal fingering
word count: 3.3k
summary: you go to a “toy” store with robin and decide to try your new toy out on eddie, and boy does he have fun. 
Tumblr media
    “Robin, put that down!” you giggle quietly. 
     “But it has a massive suction cup...you think if I put it on my head I’ll look like a uni- no, a dildo-corn?” she laughs at her own joke. You roll your eyes with a smile. she places the veiny rainbow 7 incher down and returns back to your side. 
     “We’re in an adult store, how about we act like adults too?” you say looking away as you browse the dildos. your eye catches a jet black strap on dildo, but it doesn't look like a typical dildo. You pick it up to examine it.
     “Beginners anal dildo? why do you want that?” asks Robin as she peers over your shoulder. So thats why it looks like that, you think. Its slightly curved backwards with pleasure curves on the bottom for extra stimulation. its about 6 inches long, but not too thick since it’s for a beginner. You could only think of one person to use this on...
     “For pegging of course. I also need a strap, preferably pink.” and of course, robin knows where that is. she takes you further to the back of the store. 
     “I like this one the best, and it comes in pink. Didn't know you were that kinky, y/n” Robin teased. You just smiled a flustered smile as you eyed the strap.
     “Whatever Robin, don’t act vanilla with me” you thanked her for the recommendation and purchased both items, along with some lube. After your day with robin, you head back home thinking about how to ask your friend- well, friend you hook up with sometimes- if he wants to even be pegged. You don’t want to freak him out, but you love experimenting with him. Eddie isn't vanilla at all, but you’ve never tried any sort of anal stimulation on him. 
You decide to just give him a call instead of asking him in person to save yourself from the embarrassment if things go wrong. You think about how to ask him. Should you flirt first? Should you be direct? You finally come to terms with the fact that its just a question, not a big deal.
You dial his home number. As it rings, you get more and more nervous and before you lose your confidence, you finally hear the line connect. “Munson residence.” Its Eddies voice, except it sounds a little off, like he’s eating something.  
Munchies, you thought to yourself. He is a bit of a stoner after all. you decide to cut right to the chase anyway.
     “How do you feel about pegging?” 
You hear a chip bag fall to the floor, followed by a short silence. You cant see, but Eddie eyes widened and he stopped chewing. Thank goodness his uncle isn't there to see the mess. 
     “y/n? what happened to ‘hi’ ‘whats up’?” 
You cant help but laugh, and as he heard you laugh on the other end of the line, he too giggled his stupid signature high-eddie-munson giggle. “Yeah I’m too high for this man” he says putting his hand over his flustered face. 
     “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you said between small laughs. “I just had the idea when I was at the adult store with robin-”
     “You were at an adult store?” he interrupted “And you say I’m more horny than you. You’re a freak, sweetheart.” 
You smiled at his name for you. “Well you're the one who occasionally has sex with this ‘freak’, and I haven’t seen you complain.” you snapped back playfully.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy you being in charge in the bedroom. He had a strong feeling you were into being dominant at times, which is why he initiated the idea of a friends with benefits relationship with you. And how could you refuse? Seeing such a pretty boy below you, hair spread across the pillow, the back of his hand over his mouth to attempt to cover his flustered face. His tatted chest heaving up and down, covered with your hickeys and bite marks. Of course, he failed to cover that pleasured face of his fully. His big brown eyes always showed what he really wanted.
And his whines. You swear you’re addicted to them, he’s such a pretty whiner. He seems ashamed of his noise, but you love that he’s noisy and you praise him every time. 
     “Ok y/n, how about you come by in an hour and we’ll see if I’m into pegging.” he says with a smile that you can practically hear in his teasing voice. He’s excited to see what you come up with, but he definitely needs time to freshen up first. 
You smiled at his confidence, knowing that soon enough he’ll be a whimpering, whining, begging mess. “Ok dork, in an hour.” you replied and hung up. 
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
You knocked on his trailer door waiting for it to open. When it did, you see Eddie wearing black plaid pajama pants and a Metallica tee, the total opposite of your tight cropped tank top and shorts. Only Eddie would be in pjs before sundown, but damn does he look good in black. His ringed fingers lift as he gestures for you to come in. He’s barely even holding eye contact with you, even though he’s smiling since he’s happy to see you.
You smiled at him and decided to immediately start teasing as you entered, noticing his shy manner. “Well well well, looks like you did your hair for me, huh pretty boy?” you noticed his hair had less frizz and looked softer. He took a lock of it between his fingers and covered up his grin as he closed the door. He turned to you, looked down at the floor as his face heated from the nick name you called him. his grin got wider, looking back up at you.
     “Gotta freshen up for the lady, right?” he responded. You both walked to his bed room. You placed your bag full of your new toys and lube on his bed. You sat at the edge of the bed as he crawled into the middle, placing himself against his pillows on the wall where the head board should be. He leaned back, watching you reach into the bag.
Your eyes look up and meet his. “You wanna see it, dont you?” you teased him with a smile. He looked at you, and back down at the bag with a small smile, and then he nodded. “Use your words, Eddie. c’mon big boy.” you said, with a very different tone than earlier. A more sultry tone, the kind of tone that made him heat up.
     “Ok, ok fine y/n. I want to see it, just stop teasing” you giggled, and then pulled out the strap and dildo. You watched his face closely, his smile faded and he gulped. he tensed up, but not with fear. Instead, it was with arousal. “oh shit” he blurted. 
    “Yeah, ‘oh shit’ indeed.” you connected the dildo to the strap and placed it back on the bag. “if for whatever reason, you feel like you changed your mind, just let me know. Ok pretty?” your tone turned into a gentle one. He sat up and looked at you. He holds eye contact and says “yeah yeah I know, just get on top of me.” 
Your eyebrow raised. “excuse me?” then you see Eddie finally realize he gave you a command when you're the one thats supposed to be in charge. 
     “I mean, please get on top of me” he corrected himself. you climbed on top of him as his back was still slightly angled up against his pillows so he’s not horizontal. You're now straddling him, his big warm hands find your waist as he slightly grips it. Your hands travel to his long hair, which is definitely softer than usual. Your thumbs find his face and gently tug him until your lips meet. The kiss is slow at first, patient and sweet. Moments later, when your hips begin to grind on him, but very slowly and his grip on you tightens. The kiss gets wetter and harsher. Your tongues brush over each other and you think to yourself he’s way too good at this kissing shit. 
You break the kiss to lean your head to the right, brush his hair back off his neck, and leave teasingly light kisses on him. His eyes flutter and he finds it hard to keep them open, so he moves his hands down to grip your ass. This drives you just as crazy as your kisses on him does, causing you to kiss his neck heavier, and once you lick a stripe from the base all the way up slowly to his ear, he groans. You then gently bite on his ear lobe and his mouth falls open, letting out a small curse.
    “damn it, sweetheart just- please” you bite his neck, starting softly. “you can be rougher with me, you know” he whines. 
     “What a pervert” you say in his ears. and thats all it takes for the tightness in his boxers to get even tighter. his grip on you tightens too and his breath hitches. You slide your hands down his clothed chest agonizingly slow as you bite his neck again harder. You then start to lean a little further back to take his shirt off revealing his tatted chest once again. He catches you staring, but you push him back onto the pillows roughly and discard your own shirt. You look back down at his flushed face, noticing him catching a glimpse of your lacey bra.
     “You’re so bea-” his compliment is interrupted by your fingers shoving into his mouth. His eyes widen, pleasantly surprised while he looks back up at you.
     “shut up.” you say firmly, but this only turns him on more. he begins to suck on them and his big hands find their way down to your thighs, the rings on his fingers shock your skin in his grip. his hips buck up into your forming wetness. “Good boy” you say quietly with a smile, but not quiet enough for him to not notice. The look on his face changes after your praise, his eyebrows are angled more downward at the edges and drool comes out of his mouth as you slowly pull your fingers out just so you can push them back in.
His head is spinning, his ears are red hot, and his dick.... well its only getting harder and harder and you haven’t even touched it yet. 
     “I can tell you’re getting even more excited, baby. Wanna tell me what you want me to do about it?” you tease. He whines against your fingers, his voice is completely muffled. “Oh thats right, you cant speak. do you want permission to speak, baby boy? hm?” He nods frantically, eyes squeezing shut. It’s like he’s begging without words. You decide to play nice and pull your fingers out, giving him permission. His breathing shortens and his voices is almost trembling.
    “please, please, fuck me.” he pants. “I need it, so bad... I’ll be a good boy I promise” he rambles. His eyes are erotic as he licks his lips and you bite yours.
    “And how do want me to fuck you, pervert?” you knew exactly how he wanted you, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear him beg for your strap, beg you to spread his legs, finger him, fuck him, choke him, whatever you wanted to do with him. His big and needy brown eyes trailed over to the strap at the end of the bed. You turned your head to look too, and then turned back at him. “you want that?” his eyes met yours again and he nodded.
    “Why so shy? you still aren’t using your words, Eddie. Wheres all that confidence gone, hm?” You tilted your head to the side with an innocent smile while grabbing his face with one hand so he stays looking into your eyes.
    “oh god y/n, just please fucking use me already” he panted. you turned around and grabbed the strap, then told him to move further down the pillows so he can lay horizontally.
    “I cant use you with all those clothes on baby boy. strip for me.” he quickly took off the rest of his clothes and laid back. Sure enough, his dick was ridiculously hard and firm, waiting to be touched. You stood up to take your shorts off, but kept your underwear on so you could place your strap over it. you got back on the bed, arms beside his hips. You placed yourself in between his toned legs so you could get ready to prep him. You looked towards the man who’s beneath you, legs slightly spread, hair splayed across his pillow that his left hand grips behind him, while his tatted right arm is over his mouth. His eyes are squinted in desperation. “You look so adorable Eddie...” you say as one of your hands comes down to brush downward against his thigh, then back up again. You place your hand underneath his thigh and lift it up “I’m going to need you to hold your legs open for me, ok?”
He obediently holds both of his legs back and open so you have access to him. you move your hand from off his thigh up to the side of his head. You lean down and kiss him, biting at his bottom lip making let out a soft whimper. Your tongues touch and caress each other, as your opposite hand comes up to his mouth “open.” you command, and of course he opens as you place your middle finger in his mouth. He sucks and his tongue swirls around it as you praise him for being such an obedient boy for you. You go back to making out with him as your hand trails down to his hole.
The moment your finger makes contact, he gasps and you swallow that gasp with your mouth still on him. You circle his rim slowly, making him squirm at the unfamiliar yet pleasurable contact. His legs move on their own and hook around your lower body, making your strap poke at his own lower body, causing his mind to race. Your head turns to the right as it moves down his neck again, except this time, you’re incredibly rough. He asked for it after all, so you suck harsh marks on his neck ignoring his curses. This is also when you stop teasing his rim, and push your finger in. Slowly at first, then you wiggle it inside to get him to loosen up as you pull it back out, just to put it back in again. His hand finds its way to your hair and the other to you back, desperately trying to find something to hold onto as his body burns with pain from his neck and pleasure from his hole. “Relax Eddie, you’re tight.” you say against his skin.
     “Jesus fucking christ y/n” he moans, “you’re crazy”. your finger moves in and out faster, but his moans only increase. 
     “Sounds like someone wants another finger” you tease. you lift yourself up off him, finger still inside. You look down at the mess you’re making out of him, all these marks on his neck, sweat on his head making his pretty curls stick to him. His lips wet and red from all the biting. His chest is rising and falling with his mouth open and sighing. You turn away to get the lube so you can add more fingers and go faster. you squeeze some directly onto his hole, and continue pumping. “How does it feel, pretty?” but he can barley answer. He nods and pants out a “good, feels so good... mm, want more” and you oblige.
You add a second finger, and its a little easier to slip in. You can tell he’s starting to relax. his eyes roll back before he shuts them in pleasure. 
     “oh fuck, dont-ha, dont stop..” he lets out a whine. “please, please-” his requests are cut off by your hand around his throat. You squeeze, just enough to make him see stars, but not enough to have pressure on his breathing. Your fingers are moving even faster now, his left hand wraps around your arm thats choking him and-
is he...? oh my god... he’s pushing my hand down further on his throat..
     “You really are a pervert, huh. Wanting me to choke you with my fingers inside of you” you taunt him with a grin. his eyes trail to yours and he has a stupid smile on his face. You know it’s about time to fuck his brains out, so you release his throat and pull your fingers out of him to grab the lube. You lube up the strap and aline the tip with his hole. Your hands snake to his firm hips and grip. “lift your legs up further. thats it, good boy.” Your eyes meet his. “are you ready now?”
    “Hell yeah” he says lightly, still breathing heavy and still smiling. You push in slowly, your hips meeting his lower body, observing his face. His eyebrows tighten, and then relax. his mouth is hanging open. 
     “holy shit, y/n” he lets out an open mouthed groan, and holy shit it’s hot.
You pull out to the tip, and thrust back in carefully. you do that not even 3 more times until he’s squirming again, with both his arms reaching out to grab your own. “more...” he says in a full on whimper. its pitchy and whiney and oh so perfect. You smile down at him.
“is that how you ask, Eddie baby?” 
“more, please”
“thats my boy.”
You thrust only a little bit faster, but end them harder, like your punctuating your thrusts. Both his hands go to cover his mouth as he squints his eyes shut. his pitchy moans are muffled, and his legs begin to shake every time you enter. 
“Let” thrust 
“me” thrust 
“hear” thrust
“you” thrust
His legs are fully trembling, he’s now even more sweaty, and so are you. his hands move off his mouth and his voice is clearer. 
     “there it is....” you coo, “theres my pretty boy. keep making those noises for me honey” with the biggest smile on your face. 
he cant handle all the praise, all the roughness, and he sure as hell now cant handle your hand pumping his shaft matching your thrusts. His legs shake around you, his panting increases and so do his groans. 
     “im gonna... damn it, gonna cum” his head goes back, one arm falls over his eyes and the other above his head, resting on his hair. you push his legs up with both hands. Your thrusts don’t falter but you start to pant now, you feel yourself getting tired but you power through. 
     “lets see it then, huh? make me proud, pretty boy” you’re hitting just the right spots and its driving him to his climax fast. He reaches down to touch himself since you stopped, and he gets himself off to your thrusts, praise, and breathy moans at the sight of him. It's beyond erotic. All you hear is his noises, skin slapping skin, and the wetness of his dick as he pumps himself infront of you. He looks absolutely perfect.
Soon enough, his cum paints his stomach. He's whining and thanking you, but you're still moving in and out of him. Your thrusts are slow and soft now as you bend down to kiss all over his face.
"you did so good, Eds. That was really fun you know."
You pull out and discard the strap while he catches his breath. "That was... definitely intense... holy shit" he says between deep breaths as he lifts himself onto is forearms.
"But did you like it?" You ask, concerned.
"Did I?" He says flirtatiously with a dazed fucked out look on his face "I think that's obvious. Now I need to get this-" he gestures to his cum still on him "-off of me and smoke again"
You started putting things back into your bag, except the dildo so you could clean it, until he grabbed your waist and pulled you so you would fall back onto the side of him.
"or" he mumbles suggestively, "you could sit on my face?"
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
now would y'all believe me if i said this was my first fic I’ve ever written in the history of ever? i did absolutely nothing productive today except for this. i hope everybody is wet and shaking rn after reading this because i was stressed making it 💪🏽
More of my pegging Eddie writing
2K notes · View notes
sidekick-hero · 11 months
Text
I never thought I needed saving (I’m in love this time)
(steddie | teen | 1.2k | @steddie-week | prompt: familiar | AO3)
Sunlight streams into the bedroom through the French window they both love so much, a soft breeze ruffling the floor-length curtains and sending their shadows dancing across the floor and the birds sing outside while the rest of the world continues to sleep peacefully.
His world also sleeps peacefully, in his arms with his chest rising and falling under Eddie’s hand, heart beating slowly and surely. Eddie knows the rhythm of Steve's heart better than his own, has caught it sneaking into the songs he writes more than once.
Waking up like this is as familiar to him as breathing. Steve's hair tickles his nose and he really needs to go to the bathroom soon. It's warm under the thin blanket they use, their combined body heat more than enough to keep them cozy. He's pressed against Steve's back, one of his legs between Steve's and his arm around his waist, his hand pressed against his chest. Steve's head is pillowed on his other arm and there's not much feeling left in it, it'll be all pins and needles later, but for now Eddie couldn't care less.
Because no matter how familiar this all is, no matter how often he's woken up like this, it's still the most miraculous thing in his life.
It's been five years to the day since they first laid eyes on each other at Robin and Nancy’s wedding, four years and 352 days since their first kiss under the bleachers of his old high school. And yet, there are still moments almost every day when he looks at the man sleeping in his arms and wonders how he ever got so lucky, and he wants to pinch himself. Not that he honestly thinks it could be a dream, because not even his subconscious could come up with someone as perfectly imperfect, as flawed and wonderful and real as Steve Harrington.
Eddie was a romantic at heart, always had been. His heart soared at the thought of Arwen forfeiting her immortality to die by Aragorn's side, and he cried when Roland Deschain lost his Susan to villagers' small-mindedness and hatred.
So it's quite a paradox that he never believed in love. At least not outside the stories he devoured all his life. For they are stories created by yearning minds and hearts, just like his own, but real life? Real life is messy and cruel and so devastatingly unfair that it is impossible for him to believe that true love exists in such a world.
He has certainly never experienced it himself, never really seen it. His parents hated each other even more than they hated him, and his uncle was always alone. His friends dated and had relationships here and there, but none of them ever looked like true love to him, just convenience and the fear of being alone. That's how he approached love back then. In and out with a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of bullshit, as Brian Kinney used to say. He fucked around, he dated, he had a few boyfriends. They had fun, and it was nice while it lasted, but eventually he got bored and tired of them, or they decided he was too weird, too loud, too much, and left. C'est la vie.
Meeting Steve changed all that, and if he could, he'd go back in time and tell his younger self: "One day you'll meet a man who is so different from everyone else that you'll want to run away from him as soon as you realize it. He will frighten you with how much you want him, need him, love him. So you stupid piece of shit will do just that, you'll run away, because that's what you do, right? You run when things get real and they always let you run. But not him, oh no. He'll see through your bullshit and he'll stick it out. He will forgive you so much and you better spend the rest of your life making it up to him. So buckle up, buttercup, because your life is about to be turned upside down."
It hasn't been all rainbows and roses, far from it. But they make it work, every day anew. It's easy, with Steve. Easy to apologize, easy to forgive, easy to fall back into each other's arms and make up after a fight.
Life with Steve is easy and familiar and yet the most exciting thing he's ever done.
He knows how Steve likes his coffee, his toast, his steak. He knows his morning routine, his bed routine, and how important routines are to him. He knows Steve's favorite color (yellow), his favorite movie (Top Gun), even his favorite day of the week (Saturday because it meant he could sleep in, stay up late, and have another day off). He knows that Steve hates changing the sheets but loves sleeping in a freshly made bed, so he makes sure to change their sheets almost every week, always on Monday, Steve's least favorite day of the week, so he has something to look forward to on those days.
Their sex life is also something familiar by now, and Eddie always thought he'd find that boring as hell, never expected to revel in the familiarity of another body, but knowing how to play Steve's body even more expertly than his guitar makes him burn with pride and heat in equal measure. He knows how to get Steve off in under five minutes if they're in a hurry, knows how to hold off his climax just as well, knows exactly how to keep him on the edge for what feels like hours until he's a quivering mess in Eddie's arms, sobbing and begging to come. He knows how to fuck Steve just right, hard and deep, dancing the fine line of too much like an aerial acrobat, but he also knows how to make love to him, soft, gentle thrusts and kisses all over every inch of skin he can reach, drawing constellations between the moles that dot his body and whispering sweet nothings in Steve's ear until their orgasms sneak up on them like thieves in the night.
As Eddie looks down at Steve's peaceful face and listens to the snuffling sounds that he makes every now and then, he thinks that this is exactly how he wants to spend the rest of his life.
"I can hear you thinking," Steve's sleepy voice says, and Eddie smiles down at him, waiting for his beautiful hazel eyes to open and look at him with the same wondrous love Eddie feels every time he looks at Steve. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to Steve's temple.
"Sorry love, did my loud thoughts wake you?"
"Mh-mh," is all he gets in return. That and the press of Steve's open mouth against the soft inside of his forearm, the uncoordinated effort of a kiss so endearing that Eddie's next words fall from his mouth without any thought.
"Marry me."
Steve's eyes finally open, and they are full of wonder and love, but there is also that small, adorable crease between his eyebrows that always appears when he's not sure if he's understood something correctly, but doesn't want to ask.
Eddie presses a soft, lingering kiss against it. Presses another to the tip of Steve's nose and another to his slack lips before he leans back and catches Steve's eyes and holds them.
"Marry me, Steve."
The crease between his eyebrows is gone, replaced by the sweet crinkles around Steve's eyes when he smiles more with his eyes than his mouth. His I love you smile, as Eddie has dubbed it.
"I thought you'd never ask."
"Yeah, me neither, but that was before I met you."
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unclejezzzy · 21 days
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The Sweetest Torture One Could Bear | Part 1 of I Despise My Rotten Mind (And How Much It Worships You)
It’s 1990. Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are forced to confront their shared past and shifting dynamics under the ever changing hues of a gay club in Indianapolis. Eddie, exuding confidence and embracing his sexuality offers a helping hand to Steve who is buckling under the weight of societal pressures.
OR: Steve wants to sleep with a guy for the first time and Eddie reluctantly helps against his better judgement.
Indianapolis, 1990
Eddie leant back on his elbows against the metal topped bar of the club, eyes squinting as he delicately held the rim of his glass between his fingers.
It was a Saturday night which meant that it was nothing short of a a visual feast for the senses.
The music pulsated through his body, situating itself in his spine as he squinted out at the vast expanse of potential conquests through the smoky haze.
The multi-colored lights above bathed the adumbrate dancers in an ever-changing rainbow of hues. The walls were adorned with mirrors, reflecting the dancers and amplifying the feeling of being part of something larger than oneself. Giant video screens played music videos and club scene footage, immersing them all in a world of pure hedonism.
Of course, Eddie couldn't deny that a majority of the time the clientele were just as visually stunning as their surroundings. Dancing bodies adorned in leather, lace, and sequins were all in abundance, as per usual.
But something was different. He didn't have the usual feeling that anything was possible in there tonight.
Something was missing.
"What about that guy?" Robin asked; voice elevated so it could carry over the bass of the music as she leaned across from behind the bar on her tiptoes to point out across the room to a guy with spiky blonde hair in a tank top.
“Nah - had him already. He's boring." Eddie said cavalierly.
"Boring?" She reiterated, busying herself with wiping the rims of highball glasses with a dish towel.
"He sucked dick like he was working a nine to five." He scoffed a laugh, taking a sip of his drink.
"Okay, fine." She shrugged, neck craned as she scoured their surroundings.
"Him?"
"Nah - too - muscly." Eddie grimaced, immediately glancing away without wasting a second.
"I thought you liked that?" She asked, looking up at him beneath furrowed brows.
"I like 'em toned, like a subtle 'yeah I work out but it's not my entire personality.' I don't want someone who looks like they're the face for sports steroids advertisements." Eddie said firmly.
"God you're so picky, you're looking for a hook up not a husband." Robin clarified, rolling her eyes.
"There's just nobody new and exciting. It's the same faces, same music, same routine. It's exhausting." He said, staring out ahead of him as he kissed his lips between his teeth.
"Yeah, I forgot that getting your dick sucked could be so tedious." She said in jest as Eddie chose not to respond.
"You know, maybe you're just not as into it as you used to be. That's fine, you know. To grow up and get a life outside of hooking up with people. Maybe settle down, get a boyfriend or something."
Eddie narrowed his eyes, pretending to be in deep pensive thought.
"Nah, that doesn't sound like something I'd do." He eventually said, lips breaking out into a devilish grin as Robin glared across at him.
He allowed his eyes to glaze back over the crowds of people.
His vision fixated on a lone guy with lightly tousled brown hair leaning against the metal bars of the balcony, facing away from him. It was long, layered. Purposely messy? Eddie couldn't decide. But he loved how it curled around his neck from the length.
He was wearing camel coloured chinos and a navy blue T-shirt. Fingers tapping against his crossed arms as he continued to look out at the vastness ahead of him.
Two go-go boys dressed in nothing but tight fitting, metallic shorts and pairs of cheap angel wings that were most likely bought from a Spirit Halloween store were either side of him.
They were elevated from the floor, encased in metal caging with dollar bills hanging limp from their waistbands.
It was an ethereal sight given the circumstances. If he believed in that kind of la-di-da butterfly effect bullshit he would have assumed that the universe had placed him in his line of sight for a reason.
Eddie's eyes scanned the length of his body.
He couldn't help but admire the curvature of his ass; how it was packed so tightly into the material it almost made them look as though they were painted on with the way they hugged his hips and thighs.
"Him." He said firmly, not breaking his gaze.
"What?" Robin asked.
"Him, over there." Eddie said, clicking his fingers with an outstretched arm to draw her in to his line of sight.
"The guy in the chinos?"
"Yeah. I want him."
"You haven't even seen his face yet." She warranted.
"Don't need to. He's got an ass that goes for miles. He could be the ugliest fucker in the world for all I care. I'll just go behind, don't have to look at him." He clarified, biting down against the flesh of his lower lip.
"Here I was thinking you were shallow." She shot back, voice tainted with sarcasm as she slung the dish towel over her shoulder.
"I'm going over." He affirmed - voice low as he downed the remainder of his drink, reaching around to place the empty glass behind himself on the bar.
"Okay, have fun. Be good." Robin called out after him as he brushed down the front of his black tee.
"Never. Don't miss me too much." He shot back, teasingly as he ran his fingers through his bangs to ensure they were placed in the perfect divide between careless and purposeful.
The thing with Eddie is that he didn't get rejected. In fact, he couldn't even recall the last time he got rejected.
He read an article that stated that statistically speaking, men think about sex on average around 19 times a day. This was one of those times that Eddie was happy to be branded as above average.
Of course, these statistics were based solely on straight men. Go figure.
When Eddie wasn't having sex, he was thinking about having sex. And the second he was finished having sex with the most beautiful man who ever lived, he was thinking about the next beautiful man who ever lived that he'd meet the next night.
And luckily for this guy, he was right on his radar.
He sauntered through the throngs of people, skin prickling in anticipation as he approached him. It was almost exhilarating, reaching the apex of a desired conquest.
"Hey, had a busy night?" Eddie asked, slinking an arm around the guys waist as he whipped round to face him.
He had hoped his gaze would be met with the same inquisitive eagerness. Instead, he was met with brown forlorn eyes and furrowed brows with a sinister familiarity to them.
The chiselled jawline, the mole on the side of his neck beneath the stubble, the irate demeanour.
"Jesus fucking Christ." Eddie announced, retracting his hand with the same speed you would if you caught it on the side of a hot teakettle.
"Oh God." The other breathed out, eyes darting maniacally across his face as Eddie watched the muscles of his neck contract with a deep swallow.
"Steve?" Eddie asked, biting back a laugh as his jaw slacked in awe.
"No." He said hastily, shaking his head as he darted around at his surroundings for a quick escape.
"Oh my God, it is you. Steve Harrington. From Hawkins High." Eddie pressed as he watched him back away, hand gripping the metal of the balcony for stability.
King Steve. Hawkins High maverick, belligerent basketball captain, disciples at his heels. He sounded like a cliche.
He was a cliche.
The man was a planet who carried his own gravity.
Continue reading on AO3:
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rebelspykatie · 9 months
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Rushin’ through me like a fire Part 3
A Steddie Club AU
AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
“You bought a bar, but you don’t like people?” Steve tilts his head curiously. 
“I’m an enigma, I know.” He flaps his hands around. “My Uncle Wayne always told me I’m as crazy as a rainbow trout in a car wash.” He laughs at the face Steve makes and scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, I never really understood what that meant either until I bought this place. Got in over my head with it all and it takes a lot of work to keep it running. Should’ve known better than to buy a bar when I barely graduated high school.”
“Seems like it all worked out for you, though,” Steve looks around appreciatively, as if he’s not already well acquainted with these fours walls. “Robin and I love coming here. It’s our favorite place. Unless we count our house.” 
Eddie cheeks flush a pretty pink color that looks delicious under the twinkling lights. “Such high praise from one of my best customers.” 
Now Steve’s blushing, ducking his head to hide his smile. He swirls his drink around in the glass. Deciding to be a bit bold, he says, “If I had known you were out here on slow nights, maybe I would’ve come in earlier in the week.” He takes a sip of his drink to stop himself from saying more.
“Are you saying little old me is enough to bring you in on a slow night?” Eddie leans forward, closing some of the space between them. It feels wholly different from when Austin did it, butterflies kicking up in his stomach and palms perspiring, instead of cold dread. The people sitting around the bar or dancing behind him have completely disappeared, his focus only on Eddie and the adorable way he’s biting his lip, playing up being coy but still looking secretly pleased at Steve’s attention. 
“I think you’d be enough to bring me in any night.” And Steve gets to watch his cheeks blossom a bright cherry red as a delighted zing of pleasure wraps itself around his heart. Perhaps he hasn’t lost his touch after all. 
“Aren’t you just a charmer?”
“Guess my lines do work, then, huh?” Steve asks, unable to wipe the goofy grin off his face. Pushing his luck, he asks, “Is the owner allowed to dance, or are you too busy?”
Before Eddie has a chance to answer, Gareth leans over his shoulder and says, “He’s not too busy.” Eddie elbows Gareth in the ribs. Gareth ignores him. “Go on, boss. Have fun for once.” 
Steve hesitantly adds, “It’s ok if you don’t want to. The rejection won’t crush me or anything.” And so what if he’s lying through his teeth and it would definitely crush him completely if Eddie backed away from him after all the electricity he felt between them? He’ll keep that to himself.
“No rejection here, sweetheart,” Eddie sheepishly grins. He drags Gareth away with him by the arm, both of them whispering feverishly to each other as Eddie rounds the end of the bar. The hairs on his neck stand at attention knowing that they’re definitely talking about him, but he tries to stay focused on Eddie agreeing to dance with him. 
With one last exasperated look, Gareth turns Eddie around by the shoulders and frog marches him over to Steve, who has hopped down from the bar stool to wait patiently along the edge of the dance floor. 
“He’s all yours, Steve,” Gareth smirks and pushes Eddie forward with a little shove, then runs back behind the bar to continue helping customers. 
“We really don’t have to, if you’re that uncomfortable,” Steve says once more, making sure that Eddie doesn’t feel pressured into anything. 
“It’s not you,” Eddie glances at the dance floor, eyes nervously darting around. “I wasn’t kidding before. People make me nervous. I’m not used to anyone touching me unless they’ve known me since I was in diapers.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “I’m afraid I won’t be very good at all of that.” He gestures towards the bodies moving together. 
“It’s not really about being a good dancer. At least, not for me,” Steve shrugs. “I like the release I get when I just let the music take over and it drains all of the stress out of my body.” 
Eddie has turned away from the crowd, staring intently at Steve’s face. “You’re still a good dancer, though.” 
“Are you admitting that you’ve watched me on those cameras of yours?” Steve can’t help the way his heart races at the thought. He wants to be the center of Eddie’s attention.
“I saw you earlier with that idiot,” Eddie tries to argue, but his cheeks are rosy and he looks a little skittish. Hard to tell if that’s a lie or if he really is that nervous. 
Steve reaches out to grab Eddie’s hand, keeping eye contact and hesitating for a second, waiting on Eddie to give him an approving nod. He wraps a hand around Eddie’s and takes a step closer. “You know what else I love about dancing?” 
It’s almost too dark to catch, but Eddie’s eyes flick down to his mouth. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and Eddie’s eyes track the movement, giving Steve a rush of confidence. 
“What?” Eddie asks, a bit dazed, like he barely heard Steve. 
“How it lets you get close to someone.” He takes another step closer. “You can feel heat passing between bodies.” Another step. “The way the beat runs through your veins down to your hips.” He places a hand on Eddie’s hip and can actually see the full body shudder run through Eddie. “You can pretend like there’s no one else in the room.”
Eddie nods along, eyes glazed over and focused on Steve’s mouth, like he’s hanging on every word.
As the song changes, the beat switches to something softer, a little slower. A sensual jazzy undertone that makes him want to turn off the lights and move his body in time with someone else. It’s exactly the opening Steve needs.
AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
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