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stervrucht · 2 days

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Click here for part 1 or read this on AO3

Eddie has no idea why it bothers him that Steve is out with some girl, nor why he’s painting his nails with Robin.

He doesn’t paint them often. It’s more effort than it’s worth and Eddie can’t keep his hands still for long enough to allow the varnish to dry.

Still, he accepts when Robin asks him to hang out.

Her room is simple and small, yet it radiates personality.

It radiates Robin.

Surfaces are littered with trinkets — a cliché souvenir from Indianapolis, a picture of little Robin with a cat, some colorful pebbles she probably collected. She has a French horn sitting neatly in a case, and a stand with sheet music. Her walls are covered in posters — female artists like Blondie and The Runaways.

He doesn’t question the way her eyes linger on him when she tells him about Steve’s untrackable love life.

When he asks Robin about her love life, she promptly blushes and looks away.

“I’m working on it,” she says, uncharacteristically shy.

Eddie eyes the posters and feels something click in his mind.

When he gets home he looks at his nails. The varnish is dented where he bumped it into things before fully drying and his thumb is already chipped from where he bites it sometimes.

A few days later, when he sees Steve at Family Video, the black on his nails resembles a collection of small black islands in a sea of pink.

Call it a nervous tick.

***

“Have you ever kissed a girl?” Eddie asks Robin.

For a moment, a mild shock paints her face, but then it’s gone. Like the first snow in November, when the ground is still warm from summer.

Robin is a stellar actress.

“Have you?” she asks, and Eddie should have seen that coming.

He opens his mouth to answer but before he can make a sound Robin cuts him off.

“Middle school doesn’t count when you’re over twenty.”

“Well, shit, you’re onto me, Buckley.” Eddie chuckles.

Eddie knows. Or at least he thinks he does.

Girls who like Joan Jett like girls.

Eddie has seen it before. At the parties, he attends when he’s selling.

The more niche — the more underground — the better the buyers.

Inexperienced high schoolers hardly fill his wallet.

So he goes to the parties filled with leather and smoke and music that thumps in tandem with his heart, and there he sells. There are no rules at those kinds of parties, only intoxication, flesh, sweat, and lust.

He doesn’t partake himself. The women who try to wind him up — to get his shit for free — he turns them down.

He has to.

He’s got a supplier to pay and this is his job.

Men don’t require free shit. They will flirt for a quick fuck.

He turns them down too, but a part of him feels flattered

“Have you ever kissed a guy?” Robin pulls him back from his thoughts.

They look at each other and Eddie realizes Robin knows too. Of course, she does. She knew before he realized it himself.

Because he has never kissed a guy.

But he wants to.

***

It's Friday and movie night is cancelled because Steve is on a date with Jennifer.

She’s all wrong for Steve. Too bland. Eddie knows it won’t last but he still feels bitter.

Eddie takes Robin to one of his dark clubs. The kinds where anything goes and the people don’t care. They go, not to deal this night, but to get Robin out there.

The girl is a disaster and Eddie knows she just needs a little experience, a little boost, and she will do fine with Vickie.

Vickie, a redhead.

Robin told him, and Eddie can vaguely recall her from the party at Robin’s house. Eddie supposes she’s a nice girl and he hopes — really hopes for Robin — that Vickie likes her as much as she likes her.

They go to a thrift store and buy something black just to tear it to shreds — to make it better — and Robin looks fantastic. Messy hair, dark make-up. A real Joan Jett. If Eddie was a girl, we would go wild for her.

They paint their nails too and this time Eddie’s look better because Robin did them for him.

When Eddie looks in the mirror he thinks he looks pretty fucking good with his low-buttoned black shirt that shows off his tats.

The club is dark and the atmosphere heavy. Eddie hasn’t really been there to party himself, only to sell, and it’s strange to be on the other side of it.

Bodies move like snakes, coiling around each other. He guides Robin to the bar and sticks up two fingers to the barman while mouthing for gin. He hands one of the tiny glasses to Robin and she frowns at it.

“For courage,” Eddie says in her ear, his voice hardly sounding above the insistent bass. He lifts up the glass and Robin reciprocates his toast. Then, after Eddie tips his own shot back, she follows suit.

She scrunches her nose and Eddie wonders if this was her first. Probably. He won’t ask her.

Clubs aren’t made for talking.

Eddie grabs her hands and leads her through the crowd. They settle, surrounded by bodies, and Eddie moves his hands to her hips — to guide her. He can see she’s out of her element but soon the gin will loosen her up and Eddie will make her flirt with some girls. Or maybe leave her to swim in the sea of bodies for a while, to see if she floats.

When the gin hits, Robin’s movements become looser. They aren’t particularly enticing, but they’re quirky and cute. Sweat is forming on her brow in the heat of the crowd when a girl with a black pixie cut steals Robin away.

Eddie leans against the wall and watches them dance from a distance — to keep an eye on her. The girl seems nice enough, doesn’t force herself, and Robin seems more confident as she leans forward to say something in her ear.

“You dealin’ tonight?”

Eddie looks next to him and sees a man in his late twenties with dark brown hair and green eyes. Eddie recognizes him vaguely and he supposes he may have sold to him before — if the question wasn’t a giveaway yet.

“Not tonight.”

“Too bad,” the man says. He takes his time to look Eddie over before continuing, “You’re looking for a bit of fun?”

They share a joint — Eddie’s personal stash — and then they’re making out, sloppy and wet, and Eddie has never kissed a guy before. He feels stubble on his cheek and smells the geranium of his perfume and sweat.

The guy’s brown hair tickles his cheeks and it’s the same shade as Steve’s.

The man’s hands are strong where they trace above Eddie’s jeans, his fingertips calloused — maybe from playing guitar or something like that.

And that’s not like Steve at all.

***

Steve is always on his mind.

He is everywhere.

Eddie feels like he’s going crazy in his absence.

It’s even worse in his presence.

But that is hardly a problem because Steve is busy with Jennifer

Robin and Eddie have a movie night without him that Friday, curled up on the couch of Wayne’s trailer.

They watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Robin sings along with the songs like the band kid she is.

After their night out, something seems to have shifted in her, even though all she did was talk and dance. She seems more comfortable in her skin and when she speaks of Vickie, there is less of an anxious undertone to it. Eddie is happy for her.

He doesn’t tell her about what happened that night.

Nor that he realized he may be in love with Steve Harrington.

***

Jennifer lasted a whole two weeks.

Steve drags Eddie to some dumb party in a last-ditch effort to get her back.

It’s pathetic really, and it grates on Eddie’s nerves. Eddie doesn’t want to be there, but Robin couldn’t go and Eddie is just that fucking nice.

It’s not like the little get-together they had at Robin’s, which was mostly people from band — an effort to get with Vicky, Eddie realises in hindsight. This party is far out of the realms of Eddie’s comfort zone, especially when he’s not dealing. It’s filled with the type of guys who would make fists at Eddie, call him a freak, the types he loved to provoke in the cafeteria — a mating ground for meatheads and bimbos.

Steve has had too much to drink. Eddie can see it in the way he staggers while he watches Jennifer get cozy with some lanky loser.

Eddie comes up behind Steve, rests his chin on his shoulders, and slides his arms under Steve’s, taking hold of the beer in his hand.

“I think you’ve had enough, Stevie.”

It’s for his own good.

Eddie knows he is pushing the boundaries of what is socially acceptable and he sees some people shooting them glances. A mix between curiosity and disgust. It’s not like jocks don’t do this all the time. They will slap each other's ass and say ‘nice dick’ and somehow that is acceptable. But when it’s someone like Eddie, it suddenly is too much

Suddenly it’s too real.

Steve turns around in Eddie’s arms and they are standing close.

“Hey, I was drinking that.” Steve frowns and his eyes are unfocused as they shift between Eddie’s before drifting down to his mouth.

Fuck.

Eddie isn’t sure what Steve is about to do as he leans forward. Maybe he has just lost his balance, but it sure as hell looks a lot like Steve is about to kiss him.

And this party filled with loose-fisted jocks isn’t the time nor place for a sexual awakening of any kind. Kissing a guy is far outside of the realm of plausible deniability.

Eddie pushes Steve back by his shoulders and slings an arm around him, laughing nervously.

“How about we go for a smoke, you and I.”

Steve furrows his brows.

They sit outside on the lawn. It’s a gathering spot for those that are too far gone. People are vomiting or getting it on, mostly one or the other, but occasionally simultaneously.

The air is still warm and the sky is just barely settling into a dark blue. The time of dusk that somehow feels darker than night.

Eddie pulls his zippo from his pocket and lights the cigarette between his lips. He inhales deeply, letting the smoke rest in his lungs before slowly letting it escape through his lips.

Next to him, Steve holds his head in his hands and sighs miserably.

“Shit man,” he mutters.

“Here.” Eddie nudges Steve in his side and the latter raises his head miserably.

Eddie holds the cigarette out for him and Steve reaches for it with unsteady hands.

“Wait, lemme,” Eddie says as he brings the cigarette up to Steve’s mouth.

Steve’s lips are warm against his fingers as he takes a shaky drag and Steve coughs a little when he exhales.

“Social smoker?”

“Hm...yeah,” Steve replies. He takes hold of Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips for another drag. The press of dry lips against his fingers is more insistent than before.

Eddie stares into the distance as he writes this Steve into his memory. Drunk, the smell of beer and smoke, and water hitting dry grass from sprinklers of the house across the street. Warm air and distant music, and people talking and yelling, yet it’s just the two of them — a world within a world.

Once they finish the cigarette, Eddie stands up and dusts his jeans. He offers a hand to Steve, who takes it gratefully. He is unsteady on his legs and Eddie holds him up by his shoulder.

“Lemme take you home.”

“I can’t stand being in that house,” Steve slurs.

“It will be okay, Stevie.” Eddie guides Steve to his van and counts his lucky stars he had quit drinking after one beer. He sets Steve in the passenger seat and leans over to buckle his seatbelt.

When Eddie pulls away, Steve grabs his arm and when Eddie looks up, Steve lays his hand on the curve of Eddie’s neck, on top of his hair and it pulls when Steve tugs him closer.

“Thank you,” Steve says. His gaze is unsteady but piercing and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment.

His mouth suddenly feels too dry and Eddie nervously wets his lips. “Anytime, Stevie.”

He sees Steve’s eyes drift down again, just for a second, and then Eddie pulls away.

When he climbs behind the steering wheel he turns his music off, allowing Steve to sober up in relative peace.

The white noise of tires hitting the road, the engine running, and warm wind gushing through an open window — just a crack — fills the car.

“I didn’t even like her,” Steve says after a while.

The road is unlit and dark and Eddie has to keep his eyes trained ahead. He isn’t sure if Steve is talking to him anyway, or if it’s just drunken rambling.

“Is that so.” Eddie tries to keep his voice cool.

“She was boring. We had nothing in common.”

Eddie hums.

“I don’t want to be alone…” Steve trails, almost a whisper, barely louder than the wind — like Eddie wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Believe me, Steve, you will not end up alone. You’re like, a lady’s magnet if I ever saw one.”

Steve scoffs in response and he turns his head towards the window.

When they arrive at Steve’s house, Eddie gets him out of the car and digs through Steve’s pockets in front of the door to get his keys.

By now, the house feels familiar — like a showroom or an image from an IKEA catalog.

Eddie understands Steve hates being here alone.

Steve’s weight is heavy on his shoulder and he isn’t sure if it’s really because Steve is drunk, or because he has given up on walking altogether in favor of having Eddie do the heavy lifting.

He guides Steve up the stairs and lays him on his bed. His legs dangle off the edge and Steve lays his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Hold on one sec,” Eddie says and Steve just groans in response.

Eddie returns with Advil for the morning and a glass of water, and sets it on the bedside table before he sits down on the bed next to Steve.

“Up you go.” Eddie lifts Steve up in a sitting position and by now he’s sure that Steve is just being a drama queen because he doesn’t seem half as drunk as he pretends to be.

He brings the glass to Steve’s mouth and makes him drink even when Steve initially refuses.

Steve will thank him in the morning.

“Lift your arms,” Eddie instructs.

Steve is looking at him with those big brown Bambi eyes.

And fuck, if that doesn’t make Eddie’s heart do a little summersault.

Steve blinks slowly but obliges and Eddie strips him down to his boxers and lays him down.

When Eddie is about to pull away, Steve grabs his wrist and it’s more steady, more forceful than someone drunk has any right to be.

"C'mere." Steve pulls on his arm and Eddie thinks this is probably a terrible idea.

And look, Eddie might not stick that close to social conventions — or the law, for that matter — but he is a fucking gentleman and Steve is drunk.

So Eddie resists.

Steve pulls more insistently.

“Stay.” It’s almost a whisper and it’s so desperate it sends a jolt down Eddie’s spine.

Steve looks at him, eyes more steady. Perhaps the water had helped.

“Fine, I’ll stay,” he relents. “I’ll be down the hall—”

Steve pulls again. “No, here.”

And Eddie feels himself lose his balance, or maybe it is just his urge to resist. He falls on Steve’s chest and who wraps his arms around him.

Steve holds him and even with Eddie halfway off the bed, it is nice.

But it’s not sensible.

“At least let me change, Steve. Have you ever slept in jeans before? It’s not fun.” Sensible, Eddie reiterates to himself.

Steve whines when Eddie pries himself away.

Steve is a needy drunk.

And a little whiny.

And a lot affectionate.

Eddie undresses quickly and moves Steve so he’s actually using the bed in its intended orientation.

He slips in at Steve’s side, muscles tense as he tries to keep his breathing steady.

Is it possible to die of your heart beating too fast? Eddie is sure he read something about it somewhere and if so, this should be the moment he becomes a religious man.

Steve puts an arm over Eddie’s chest and burrows his face in Eddie’s neck, letting out a content sigh.

As Steve’s breathing slowly evens out, Eddie stares up at the black void of the ceiling.

He realizes Steve has won. There is no way Eddie can beat him at this game of proximity.

Steve, the new king of Personal Space Invasion.

Eddie realizes he may have stopped playing somewhere along the way.

***

There are no more girls.

It makes Eddie happier than it should. Happier than he should allow himself to feel because it can only result in heartbreak.

Yet he can’t help himself.

He takes all Steve will give him. Opens his heart to a world of hurt, just for a sip of the lake that is Steve.

Eddie stays over at Steve’s place often.

Routine carves itself into their life like a glacier, slow and heavy, working its way through layers of stone.

There are no more girls and Eddie can almost pretend that what they share is something more — as long as it remains unnamed.

Steve doesn’t ask Eddie to join him in his bed anymore — he doesn’t have to. It has become a silent agreement among them and surely there are places where platonic bed-sharing is the norm. Probably somewhere in Europe.

Harrington is an Irish name, right?

Eddie always wakes up before Steve does. It’s not hard to do, because Steve likes to sleep in. He sleeps through alarm clocks like the sound is ambient and Eddie wonders how he ever gets to work on time.

Some of those mornings, they wake up pressed together — Eddie’s back against Steve like they’re lovers.

Those flitting moments between sleep and wakefulness are the best because Eddie can pretend.

***

“My parents will be home this week,” Steve says that morning. He leans against the counter next to where Eddie is pouring them coffee.

It is early and Steve will head to work soon. Shy sunlight peeks through the trees behind Steve’s house, into the kitchen where it draws lines on Steve’s thighs. Outside the birds sing like their lives depend on it, but in Eddie’s heart, it's quiet. The mornings smell like coffee and deodorant and freshly brushed teeth.

His shoulders stiffen and his grip on the coffee pot tightens. He knew it would come to this eventually. He prepared himself for it, but it still stings.

“You must be happy,” Eddie says instead, eyes trained on the cups in front of him. They are full, but Steve can’t see that. Eddie can pretend a moment longer, to gather himself before he faces Steve.

“Not really…I mean, it makes no difference to me. They work late, or they have dinners with friends. It hardly changed anything except now I have to take them into consideration.”

“And that means they probably don’t dig me hanging around, right?”

Sleeping over, several nights a week, in bed with their perfect son.

“Probably not.”

Steve lets the words hang there and Eddie feels like he should take them, chew them up and spit them out into something better.

“Wayne works night shifts.”

The words are out before Eddie can stop himself. He hands Steve his coffee, just to have something to do as he sees Steve think. Anxiety wraps itself around him like a snake, squeezing his heart until Steve breaks him free. Eddie imagines the snake from the woods, coiled up with a footprint on it.

Steve smiles, so carefree, so utterly unaware of the things it does to Eddie's heart and reaches over to smooth a curl behind Eddie’s ear.

And this is new — this intimacy in the undeniable clarity of daylight.

Eddie feels his pulse race and all he can do is gape at the back of Steve’s head, who is already walking over to the table with his coffee in hand.

“I’ll grab our toothbrushes before I head out,” Steve says while he pulls out a chair.

---

Click here for part 1 or read this on AO3

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A/N: So, remember how I said two parts….? Well, this story started to live its own life and I'm but a slave to the whims of these boys. In my defence, it’s probably Steve’s fault. Anyway, there will be more chapters. At least one, maybe two?

#steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #my fics #proximity_fic

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stevesjockstrap · 2 days

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Part 2/2 🖤 part one or Read on ao3 • rated E — all the smut in this one (full tags on ao3)

tattoo artist Eddie, swimmer Steve Harrington, oblivious Eddie, pierced Eddie, appearance by Steve’s jockstrap 🫠 dom!Eddie, brat Steve ofc

@steddieonmywaywardson @steddiesummerexchange

Thanks again to @fuctacles and @lawrencebshoggoth 😘

Walking into the bar a few days later to see Steve in a tight crop top and very short jean shorts with the Calvin Klein band of his underwear showing a few inches above them had Eddie almost dropping to his knees.

He hadn’t been that excited about the 80’s theme night at their regular dive bar but now being faced with the happy trail and bare arms of his … what would he even call their relationship? They weren’t exactly friends. He was a little more than a client, honestly, but Eddie was hoping for much more than that. He just didn’t think it was going to happen. Gorgeous athletic assuredly straight guys like Steve Harrington do not end up with fuck ups like Eddie Munson. He knew what he looked like, the long hair and piercings and almost all of his body covered in weird tattoos. Cute frat boy types didn’t go for the likes of him.

“Eddie!”

He spun around to see Chrissy in a bright neon pink leotard with a headband. His own leather jacket and Judas Priest T-shirt seemed lame now, looking around at everyone who had gone above and beyond for the theme.

“Hey Chrissy. Love the outfit. Are you leading us in Jazzercise tonight?”

She laughed hard and genuine, throwing her head back and making her high pony tail swing around.

Steve came up next to them with an easy grin. “Hey Ed! How are you?”

“Hi Steve. Pretty good, pretty good. You guys really went all out, huh?”

Steve huffed a small laugh and shrugged, completely nonplussed that he was the hottest person in the place. Maybe the state. What Eddie would give-

“Can I buy you a drink?” Someone came up beside them, looking Chrissy up and down.

“Sure!” The guy in a cowboy hat and jeans (maybe had forgotten which theme night he was attending, or maybe he thought it was the 1880s, who knew) offered her his elbow and lead them to the bar. Steve threw a thumbs up at her when she turned to look back at him and Eddie wanted to run away immediately.

Thankfully he was saved by the Corroded Coffin boys showing up, but then Eddie had to awkwardly introduce them officially after they ragged on him for their enthusiastic session.

But Steve was amazing, unquestioningly shaking their hands and engaging in the typical polite small talk. The boys complimented his outfit without making it feel weird, and Steve excitedly pointed out Drew’s Metallica shirt and started an in-depth conversation about the album (making Eddie silently swoon beside him).

Chrissy rejoined them after cutting her suitor loose, and they all found themselves hanging at a corner of the bar, shooting the shit with the bartender and judging everyone else’s attire and the music.

As more and more alcohol was consumed, Eddie was quickly losing his mind. Steve was so comfortable in himself, talking with anyone who approached the bar or started talking with them. It shouldn’t have been that attractive, but Eddie who had grown up with all the same people surrounding him now, he found it hard to make friends. Chrissy and Argyle had found their way into his life by accident, but their extroverted selves had just adopted the sad boys in the tattoo shop and frequently drug them out of their comfort zones.

Eddie almost swallowed his tongue when a tall good looking man approached Steve and asked him to dance, waiting to see the hate crime in action that he was expecting. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, something to finally burst the Steve Harrington shaped bubble forming in his heart.

Instead, Steve gave him a demure smile and went with him, actually taking his hand and allowing the man to escort him to the dance floor where they quickly got into the groove and Eddie was dumbfounded.

He blinked at Chrissy and she sent him a look, but he was too drunk to decipher it. He couldn’t figure out why this was somehow worse than when he’d assumed Steve was straight and unattainable. Now that there may be a possibility — he shook his head at himself, quickly draining his cup and waving off the questions from the boys as he threw cash onto the table and stood. He had to go home before he embarrassed himself. Or made a fool of himself in front of Steve.

Gareth sent him a small sad smile and patted his shoulder as he went past.

The next few days went by quickly, Eddie trying to settle the slight nausea whenever he thought of how he’d acted with Steve at his tattoo appointment (and the consult meeting beforehand), forcing himself to be even more professional at his appointments now to try to overcompensate.

“Are you into Steve?”

Eddie scoffed and watched as the cue ball went wide, missing its target completely. “What the fuck, Chrissy?”

She smirked at him from the other side of the table, quickly pocketing two of her striped balls.

“Well?” She asked again. Chrissy had drug him back to the bar, apparently to interrogate him.

“Is this just a dirty trick to win at pool? Or a real question?” Eddie peered at her while she scoped out the table.

“A question can be more than one thing,” Chrissy said with a wide grin. “People, too.”

Eddie frowned, game now forgotten. “What does that mean?”

Chrissy shrugged and took a drink from her beer. Eddie took a few steps closer to her. “Is Steve asking about me?”

She had let it slip earlier that she’d gotten together with him and Eddie tried not to let it bother him. They’d only exchanged a few messages since he had been in his tattoo chair. Eddie had tried to keep it cool, letting Steve know scars were finicky and not to worry about any areas that healed strangely. He’d be able to touch them up. Eddie had winced to himself at the double entendre and then the conversation hadn’t really progressed like before.

Chrissy shrugged again and Eddie wanted to shake her.

“Chris, you’re killing me.” He gulped down his own beer and sighed. “Look. I tried to be so professional with Steve. If I made him uncomfortable I can apologize or whatever. But yeah, he’s fucking gorgeous and sweet and funny and completely out of my league. You probably know all of this, and you’re fucking with me. To win a dumb game of pool. But, for your own sick twisted amusement, yes. I know I have zero chance, but I know I’ve never been that hard while tattooing someone. Does that answer all the things of your question?”

She just nodded, but had a small sly grin on her face.

Eddie lost three games of pool before he called it a night. Then went home and scrolled through his messages with Steve to torture himself.

“Are you inviting your boy to the party?”

Eddie actually looked behind him to see who Gareth was talking to, and not seeing anyone in the vicinity, he frowned. “Huh?”

“The big end of summer thing at Argyle’s? Are you going to invite Steve?”

Eddie dropped his phone, and Gareth snickered at him. “He’s not- Wha- Do- uh.” He looked around the packed shop, lowering his voice. “Should I?”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “How long are you going to keep circling each other? You obviously both like each other, he gets along well with all of us somehow, you act like a lovestruck teenager when he’s around. What’s stopping you?”

Eddie thunked his head on the table and Gareth chuckled at his dramatics.

He’d always kept a decent eye on his schedule and appointments, Argyle complimenting him because trying to figure out the other guy’s schedules and trying to work with their convoluted systems was more than he could take some days.

It wasn’t until he walked into his office and found Steve there instead of the promised Mike Hawk that he second guessed giving him access to his calendar.

“Oh. Um. Hi, Steve. Why are you- I mean, its good to see you, but well, uh…”

Eddie trailed off, awkwardly standing in his own doorway.

“It may have been Chrissy’s idea,” Steve supplied. “And Argyle… could put someone in your calendar. I couldn’t get a hold of you, and I didn’t really want to bother you by just showing up and taking away from your work, I just, I dunno.” He was so genuine and seemed shy now somehow, even more endearing to Eddie.

“Uh, sure. That doesn’t seem stalkery at all,” Eddie huffed.

“Think of it more as, I dunno, just a surprise appointment instead of being tricked by all of your friends.” Steve grabbed the back of his neck, smirking.

“Oh? Is that what we are? Friends?”

That didn’t seem to deter Steve at all, in fact his smile widened and maybe blushing.

“I was hoping, to be that, or…” Steve stood, and Eddie realized he was wearing the black sweatpants he had sent him home in. “Since I sort of have an appointment, could you look at this tattoo for me? The last guy, he did his best, but you know, tattoos over scars can be finicky, I hear.”

Eddie laughed, his heart unclenching. “Yeah, you know not all tattoo artists are as professional as me.”

Steve walked closer to him, reaching behind him to pull his door shut. Eddie swallowed.

Wiggling out of the sweatpants and turning, Eddie let out a gasp. Steve stood before him in a jockstrap, tattoo still healing but areas on and around his scars lighter and fuzzier. However, his brain mostly clued into the fact that Steve’s entire ass was bare to him, and all of his long legs.

“Uhh huh, well it does seem like your scars haven’t taken the ink as well. C-can, um, can you stay here for a minute? Just give me one minute?”

Steve turned again, giving him a small nod and stepping back into his (Eddie’s) sweats.

In the middle of the tattoo shop, Eddie stopped and looked around. Only about half of the guys were in today. Weekdays they didn’t all need to be here. Argyle smirked at him from the front desk. Eddie glared and approached him quickly.

“What is this all about? You putting fake names in my schedule for people to ambush me now?”

“Hey, you’re welcome, brochacho. Go back there and get your shit together.”

Eddie laughed, all his annoyance gone instantly. He met Argyle’s outstretched fist with his own, shaking his head. “Thanks, man.”

Realizing he had actually left a hot half naked guy alone in his office, he quickly grabbed stuff from his work station and hustled back, locking the door behind him.

Steve was lounging on his couch with his arms crossed, making his arms and shoulders look ridiculous.

“So, um, this last dude who tattooed you, was he- you know, did you like him?” Eddie grinned, tucking his tongue behind his teeth.

“Ah, he was alright. I think I’m going to like you a lot better though.”

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head as he dumped his stuff on his desk.

“I think we’re going to set up shop back here, if that’s cool with you. I kind of got drug over the coals for, uh, an interesting session a few weeks ago. The boys won’t let me live down another performance like that. And since we’re just doing a touch up…”

Steve reached behind his head to grab the collar of his shirt and pulled it off with a flourish. “Fine by me. Although, between us, that guy probably enjoyed the attention.”

Eddie stopped to groan, rubbing over his face. “Fuck. Well, maybe next time then, Stevie.”

His gaze slid from his cocky grin down his hairy chest, down to his tantalizing happy trail that was still burned in his memory from the bar that night.

“God, you’re pretty,” he breathed, unaware he had said it out loud until the belly he was eyeing shuddered with a laugh.

“Where do you want me, Eds?”

“Uhh, there’s an old bench shoved here somewhere. Gotta be more comfortable than on my desk.” As he said it, he winced but he watched as Steve’s eyes darkened.

“Yeah, you can bend me over your desk another time.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie chuckled.

Eddie popped up the dusty table, quickly but efficiently wiping it down with disinfectant before beckoning him over. Steve stood again, sliding the sweats from his legs as Eddie watched, enraptured. He didn’t take his eyes off of him as he laid down, arching his back as he positioned himself and had to hang his arms off the sides to fit.

Other tattoos he hadn’t gotten to see before drew his attention away from the magnificent ass, some script across his ribs and a baseball bat with nails through it on his bicep.

The one he’d done on his thigh was the biggest, and was the most detailed. If he’d known (or had thought to ask any questions) he would’ve prepared Steve better for the pain he’d had to endure. Hindsight being what it was, he just shrugged at himself and carried on. Nothing to do for it now. Steve had come back, after all.

Sucking in a deep breath, Eddie traced a finger down his spine and over the leg strap that crossed over the tattoo. “Gunna slide this up a little, baby.”

The word felt like too much, hanging between them, but Steve made a little affirmative noise in his throat and arched into the touch.

Eddie put his gloves on, got his tray set up and let himself believe this was actually happening.

“You gunna sit so good for me again, sweetheart?”

Steve whined and nodded, Eddie watched his fingers flex into fists.

“Your pretty little mermaid for everyone to see, been showing it off to everyone?”

“No, haven’t, not really. Did everything you said. Even kept it out of the sun.”

Eddie coughed to cover the little whimper that came out of him, when he realized there were no tan lines to be found on all of the skin under his hands. Steve must sunbathe in the nude, but hadn’t been with his new tattoo.

“You like following my directions, Stevie?” He smirked even though he knew Steve couldn’t see.

“Yes sir.”

Eddie almost dropped the tattoo gun. “Fuck, sweetheart. Just relax. Just be a good boy for now, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

“Mhm,” Steve whined as Eddie continued. Thankfully his previous self had plotted the scars mostly in the mermaids dark hair or background, easily able to blend into shadows and such so he didn’t need to redo stencils or think very much, since most of his focus was again on the little noises Steve was making and his ass under his hands.

Steve had definitely been holding back the first time, because now the noises were even more constant and pornographic. Eddie knew he was dripping in his boxers, trying his best to quickly deposit the ink in Steve’s perfect skin.

“Doing so well, pretty boy.”

“Feels good, Eds. Could sit here forever,” Steve whimpered.

“Mhm,” Eddie hummed, not acknowledging the lie as he watched Steve’s jaw flex and the muscles bunch under his hands. “Relax, Steve. Or I’ll stop.”

Cooing at his devastated noise, Eddie wiped ink from his body again and pressed a kiss to his side, making Steve cry out and his hips jolt.

“Oh fuck, you’re going to be the death of me. How can you be this hot?”

Eddie stopped. “Huh? Me?”

“Of course, Eds. You think all of this was for show? I just get naked in front of people I don’t think are hot?”

That stumped him. “I mean- uh, but-“

“I thought I was pretty blatant the first time, but Chrissy-“

“Chrissy,” Eddie groaned. Of course she was in on this. This stunt had her name written all over it. “Holy shit.”

Steve rolled over on his other hip to look up at him. “Eds, it was her idea but only because I had been whining to her about not knowing how to get your attention. She said you were not going to catch any subtle teasing or jealousy tactics, that I’d have to go big and obvious. This was as, uh, big and obvious as we could agree upon.”

Eddie frowned. “Agree upon?”

“Chrissy had much more elaborate plans, but I didn’t want to like publicly embarrass either of us. I just wanted it to be us, and you know, maybe the shop guys, that was really hot last time. But-“

Eddie stopped him with a kiss, Steve grinning into it and finally wrapping his arms around him. He ripped the black rubber gloves from his hands and someone pushed the tray of supplies out of the way, then suddenly he had a lapful of mostly naked Steve.

When they finally broke apart gasping, he traced Steve’s wet bottom lip with his thumb and Steve pulled it into his mouth. “Goddamn you’re amazing. So fucking gorgeous. Could look at you forever.”

Steve gave him a blinding smile from around his thumb, licking across the pad before letting it go. “Promise?”

“Yes, baby.”

Their lips crashed together again and Eddie’s hands went to his hair to hold him where he wanted him and around his waist to pull him closer, their hard lengths meeting between their layers. Eddie knew this was not good for his brand new tattoo but he couldn’t break their desperate kiss.

Steve kissed down his jaw to his neck, nosing his hair out of his way.

“Stevie baby, gotta-“

He laughed at the petulant whine he received. “Settle down, just don't want to fuck up all the work I did, even though I know redoing it again would be enjoyable for both of us. Turn over for me and I’ll take care of you.”

Working together, they arranged Steve to stand bending over the table and Eddie slid close behind him, licking across his hole and sliding a hand into the front of his jock.

“Please, please Eds- oh my god,” Steve wailed as he fucked himself back and forth, not sure if he wanted to rut himself into his mouth or his hand.

“I got you, sweetheart. Come for me and I’ll clean you all up and take you home.”

Steve arched back into him again. “That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said. Ever.”

Eddie swiped his tongue over his spasming hole again, making him shudder. “I think you’re a bit biased right now, but I’ll remember that.”

Ignoring his own throbbing cock, he slurped and stroked until Steve made the hottest noise he’d ever heard (he was definitely biased), coming hard into his sexy little jockstrap.

“That’s my good boy,” Eddie growled, nosing between his legs against his clothed spent balls and making Steve whimper.

“Stay still and let me wrap your fucking tattoo and then I’m dragging you home.”

“Y’ssir,” Steve slurred, slumping down onto his hands on the table, poking his ass up further into the air.

“Can’t believe you rode your motorcycle to get a tattoo on your ass, you absolute menace,” Eddie huffed.

“I was hopeful I would be getting a ride after.”

Eddie cackled along with Steve as they took the short drive to his place.

“As if there would be any other possible outcome with you throwing your gorgeous self at me.”

Steve shrugged, undoing his seatbelt. “Could’ve been. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”

Eddie looked at him like he was insane. “You mean, like, blind people? Lesbians?”

Giggling, Steve stuck his tongue out playfully. Eddie pretended to reach for it. “I’m a hit with lesbians, for the record.”

“Of course you are, handsome. Now get inside before I embarrass both of us in this parking lot.”

Wanting to get out of the shop quickly and without many eyes on them, Eddie had persuaded Steve just to put the sweatpants back on and snuck out the back staff door. Steve had confirmed that the rest of his appointments for the evening had also been fake (Benedict Phalange and Jack M. Ihoff, he needed to get more creative friends honestly) so they could run off without guilt.

Eddie left Steve waiting impatiently on his doorstep as he rushed around his apartment throwing dirty clothes into his closet, gathered all the trash from his coffee table and as a last resort sprayed air freshener everywhere.

Pulling the door back open with a flourish, he ducked his head down and bowed, putting on a voice. “My liege, welcome to my very humble abode. Me casa es the landlords casa, unfortunately. But it’s supposedly earthquake proof.”

Steve snickered at him, pulling him from his low bow and pushing him against the door. “Well let’s test that out, shall we?”

“Fuck, I’m keeping you,” Eddie groaned before meeting his hungry kiss. “Let’s go test out the shower first.”

After pushing and pulling each other to the bathroom and losing clothes along the way, after they’d wriggled Eddie’s pants off, Steve looked him over with wide eyes.

Eddie felt unnerved for a long moment before Steve made a low appreciative noise and ran a finger from the ink on his throat to the metal through his nipple and gasped as his eyes trailed lower.

“It’s yours?”

Eddie frowned, almost gasping himself as Steve dropped to his knees in front of him, then realized what had grabbed Steve’s attention. “Oh. You didn’t know?”

Steve traced along the harpy tattoo above his knee. “I didn’t know it was on you, Mr. Humble. Letting me rave over it and you didn’t feel the need to tell me you tattooed it onto yourself? That’s beyond badass, Eds.”

Maybe finally cluing into the fact that he was kneeling in front of him, Steve looked up from under his lashes at him, pressing a quick wet kiss to the tattoo before hooking his fingers in the elastic of Eddie’s boxer briefs to pull them down.

“Is- are- oh my god.”

“Not sure I can answer that one, honey,” Eddie laughed.

Steve continued staring until he finally thumbed at the metal through the head of his cock. “How do you keep getting hotter?” He pulled back, shedding his (Eddie’s) sweatpants and jockstrap in one motion. “C’mon, I need that in my mouth right the fuck now.”

Eddie would be embarrassed for the noise that came out of him as Steve sunk to his knees the moment they stepped in the shower, but then his brain was being sucked out of his dick. He threw one hand out to hold himself up and slid the other into Steve’s thick hair as his hot mouth slid down his length.

He realized his eyes had slid closed and forced them back open to see the gorgeous man below him. “Fuck, baby. Look so good like this,” he gasped.

Steve pushed himself up another inch with a high whine before pulling off. “Can’t take your huge cock.”

Eddie thought his legs were going to drop out from under him as Steve dived back down to swallow around the head of his dick. “Jesus Christ, where did you come from?”

All he could do was try to stay standing, almost sure his brain was going down the shower drain watching Steve as he lapped against the piercing or his cute little furrowed brow as he tried his best to take him down to the hilt.

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart. Doing so good.”

He huffed, sending air across the head of his cock and he jolted a bit, making his piercing slide across Steve’s lips. “Just want all of it,” he pouted.

Unable to help himself, he grabbed a better handful of the hair on the back of Steve’s head and pulled his mouth back onto him. “Tap me if you need to,” he rasped.

Steve made a pretty keening noise and blinked up at him.

Pushing forward only a little further than Steve had been able to take before, he waited for Steve to take a long breath before fucking into his mouth.

“Such a good boy,” he couldn’t help but groan as his throat opened up for him. Carefully inching forward again, he rocked back and forth, leaving only a couple inches untouched.

Steve pushed against his thigh and he quickly backed off, but Steve gasped out, “So fucking hot, Eds. Do it harder. And I want all of it. Make me take it.”

Eddie’s knees almost gave out. “The fucking mouth on you, pretty boy.”

The only response he received was a low hum around the head of his cock before Steve pushed himself down onto this length and looked up expectantly at him.

He watched his face intently as he used the grip on his wet hair to pull him steadily forward. Sliding past his perfect lips, he moaned as they met the curly hair at the base and Steve swallowed around him.

“That’s it baby,” he huffed, yanking him off and letting him suck in a shallow breath before rocking all the way back in. Tears joined the water dripping down his cheeks but he wouldn’t let Eddie stop, whining and shoving himself back down even as his gag reflex fought him. “God, I lo-“ he shook his head. It was too soon. “Gunna come, Stevie.”

Steve bobbed his head and kept humming and swallowing around him until Eddie saw stars and reached above him for the shower rod to hang on to as he came down his throat.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed as the soft tongue cleaned him up. Then he almost hit the floor again when Steve looked up at him with his big round eyes, wrapping both hands around his own hard dick, getting himself off while looking him up and down. “Come for me, beautiful. Then I’m chaining you to my bed. Never letting you go.”

“Ah! Eds!” Steve made eye contact with him as he shuddered through his release, finally leaning his forehead against Eddie’s hip to catch his breath.

Once they were cleaned up and dry, cuddled up in bed, Steve looked around searchingly and Eddie raised an eyebrow at him. “Where’re your chains?”

Days later after not getting to see each other due to their schedules and Eddie trying not to come on too strongly (honestly he’d ask Steve to move in with him if he didn’t think he would run away screaming), Steve picked him up for Argyle’s party.

“I don’t know that I consented to a motorcycle ride,” Eddie smirked. God, don’t get hard. Don’t get hard.

“Parking over there is atrocious, this way we won’t have to walk a mile.”

Eddie kissed his cheek as he took the helmet held out for him. “Good thinking, sweetheart.”

He tried not to get too excited. But the vibration of the bike under him and holding on to Steve as he zipped through the city was exhilarating. Steve wiggled his hips back into him teasingly. He growled into his ear, “Be good.”

Steve shook his head and wiggled again. Eddie grabbed his hips and rutted his hard cock against his back. When that only made the wiggling continue, he looked around quickly before sliding his hand down between Steve’s legs.

Chuckling darkly against his shoulder as he gasped and revved the engine. “Don’t kill us, pretty, haven’t gotten to do everything I want to you yet.”

The hardness in his hand twitched and Steve slowed down the bike, turning a corner and taking them down a more deserted street.

“And don’t come,” he hissed as he squeezed a bit tighter.

They made it to Argyle’s in one piece miraculously, Steve whining at him as he hopped off the bike and pulled both of their helmets off to meet his lips.

“C’mon Stevie, before we get arrested in his front yard for indecent exposure.”

No one was surprised to see them walk in together, Eddie had been unable to stop talking about their developing relationship to anyone and everyone who would listen. Drew would jokingly make gagging noises at him and Gareth would loudly fake moan from next to him in the studio or bar.

“Ah our favorite pet project has arrived!” Argyle called out when he saw them, nudging Chrissy who was draped over his shoulder, apparently this meddling had brought them back together.

“Hey guys,” Chrissy beamed at them.

It was unbearably hot, but under the umbrellas and awning in the back of the house it was a bit more tolerable, and people were jumping in and out of the pool.

Eddie almost swallowed his tongue when Steve came out of the bathroom wearing a tiny sporty looking speedo and nothing else. He grabbed his elbow and pulled him back into the bathroom. “Are you trying to kill me? What is that?”

Steve just grinned. “It’s a pool party, babe. This is a bathing suit,” speaking slowly and deliberately like he was explaining something very complicated. “You wear it in the pool.”

“Uh huh, smart ass. What about keeping your new tattoo out of the sun? You’re pushing it, you’re already lucky I’m letting you swim at all.”

“Mmm, let me, Eds? What else do I have your permission to do?” Steve pulled him close by the waistband of his own plain black trunks.

“Fuck, you are trying to kill me,” he breathed, closing the distance between their lips. But after a quick kiss he pulled back. Looking into his eyes, he promised lowly, “Keep being a brat and you’ll end up bent over Argyle’s weird furniture. You have one free cheek.”

Someone knocked hard on the door and they jumped apart. One of Argyle’s friends snickered at them as they hurried out past him.

Steve continued teasing him incessantly throughout the party, dragging him into the pool and wrapping his arms and legs around him so Eddie could carry him around, after they’d gotten out and dried off he got back in then plopped his cold wet self right onto Eddie’s lap and got comfortable. Taking any opportunity to touch him, pulling him in for kisses mid-sentence with their friends if he felt like it, licking invisible crumbs from his fingers as he ate.

“This must be the famous Eddie, then,” a voice came from above them and Steve squawked as he jumped up to throw his arms around the person.

Eddie recognized her immediately from Steve’s instagram.

“Robin! I thought you couldn’t make it!” He was almost jumping up and down, Eddie found himself grinning just from how excited he was.

“Well I texted you a bunch, but it seems like you don’t have your phone.” She looked pointedly down to his tiny bathing suit.

Steve smirked at her and they shared a long look, seeming to have a conversation without talking.

“So Eddie, what are your intentions with my platonic soulmate?” Robin asked seriously as she dropped into the chair next to him. “How do you feel about him wanting six kids?”

Eddie looked quickly between them, throat going dry suddenly, “Uhhh, I mean, um-“

“Aww leave him alone, Bob. I’ve already been messing with him all day,” Steve laughed, plopping himself back into Eddie’s lap.

As the day went on, drinks were consumed and games played, Steve still finding any excuse to use Eddie as a chair and pressing his lips anywhere he could reach.

The final straw was when Steve plucked an ice cube from Eddie’s drink and as he watched, licked some of the dripping drink from it but instead of popping the entire thing in his mouth (which would’ve been hot enough on its own), he tucked it down the front of Eddie’s swim trunks.

Robin laughed at them as Eddie squeaked before grabbing Steve’s hand and pulling him into the house.

Steve’s wide grin told him everything he needed to know.

“Thought you liked being my good boy, why are you acting up?” He crowded close to him, cupping his face and making him meet his eyes.

“Want you, Eds, please,” Steve pouted and gave him big puppy dog eyes.

“You’ve been sitting on my dick all day, honey. What else do you need? Huh?”

Steve pulled away and Eddie almost pouted himself, but then he just looked around before asking, “Are there bedrooms here?”

Barking a quick relieved laugh, he took his hand again and they ran up the stairs. Locking the door and pushing Steve against it, he met his desperate kiss and lined up their hips with a groan.

“Take this tiny thing off, babe.” He pulled at the hip of his speedo and Steve giggled.

Together they got their suits off and Eddie shoved him until he landed on the bed. He pulled open the nightstand and his eyebrows shot up. “Good for you, Argyle.”

He threw a condom and a small bottle of lube onto the bed and left the rest alone.

“Yessss, want your huge cock in me,” Steve hissed as he squirmed around on the bed.

“Settle down, Stevie, I think I promised you something else if you were going to keep being a brat,” he taunted.

“Want that, too.” He maneuvered himself onto his knees with his back to Eddie.

Momentarily distracted by his own art on the expanse of skin before him, his eyes then traveled up and he let out a deep groan. “Holy fuck, Stevie. How haven’t I seen this one?”

Eddie traced over the delicate lettering right under his perfect dimples in the small of his back, his jaw actually dropping. “You are just a pretty little babygirl, aren’t you?”

Steve arched his back with a high whine as he dragged his finger down between his cheeks. Without warning he slapped across his bare cheek and chuckled at his little squeak.

“More, c’mon,” he taunted, rising up on his hands on the bed.

Eddie hummed thoughtfully and swatted harder against him a handful of times in quick succession before grabbing a handful of cheek in a harsh grip, enjoying the rough inhale of breath and little whimper he received.

He continued spanking down his thigh and swatting over his perfect tramp stamp until everything was a warm pink and Steve was writhing and widening his legs so he’d get a peak of his pretty hole.

“Please,” Steve whined prettily. “Need your cock, please. Oh fuck!” Eddie smacked once more hard across his ass.

Quickly grabbing the lube, he chuckled as Steve flopped down onto his face on the bed, arching his back and immediately showing off his ass. Eddie swiped his wet fingers across it, trying to prepare him quickly as his own dick screamed at him to just shove inside.

Finally after Steve was a quivering whimpering mess on the bed, he removed his fingers and rolled the condom on.

“Oh, c-could, um,” Steve stammered.

“Why’re you gettin’ shy on me now, pretty? What do you want?”

He huffed, half hiding his face into the sheet under him, and Eddie tried as best he could to patiently wait for him to say something.

“Can, you know, can we do it the other way? Wanna see you. Hold onto you.” Steve couldn’t look at him while he said it, and Eddie wanted to go throttle whoever had told this gorgeous man that he didn’t deserve to be taken care of.

“C’mere, Stevie,” he cooed, and his eyes shot to his, widening when he realized Eddie was serious. He turned over, sitting up on the edge of the bed and Eddie knelt in front of him, pulling him in close. “Gunna treat you so well, babygirl. You already have me wrapped right around your little finger. Of course we can do romantic and soft,” he laughed.

Steve’s eyebrows turned down and he gave him a little pout. “Didn’t say anything about soft,” he grumbled.

They laughed together, and Eddie pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth, then his forehead. “Gunna have me eating out of your hand, aren’t you babygirl? Gunna have me completely whipped. I can already tell.”

Steve simply shrugged and pulled him in for a deeper kiss, wrapping his arms and legs around him. Finally he pulled away, gasping, “Please fuck me already. I can’t wait anymore. And Robin is very needy, she’ll come look for us soon.”

Eddie snorted. “Oh, she’s needy, huh? Must’ve learned that from you.”

He watched as he got his gorgeous self spread out across the bed, fluffing pillows behind his head and threw one playfully at Eddie who helped him shove it under his hips.

He teased him for a long moment, dragging the pierced head of his cock around his hole and over his balls until he was whining and grasping handfuls of sheet. The first push inside made his eyes cross, holding on tight to his thick thighs under his hands. “Like you were made for me, baby.”

Leaning over him, he kissed down his neck and over his nipples, giving them extra attention when it made him clench around him and cry out. “Oh yeah, baby? Sensitive little things, huh? Maybe we’ll see if Argyle can pierce them for you. Or better yet, I’ll get him to show me how, and I’ll be the one to make you even prettier.”

“Oh fuck, yes, oh my god,” Steve wailed as he met the harried thrusts. “I don’t know how you’re real. God I love- love your fucking cock.”

Eddie hummed into his neck. Not the cleanest coverup he’d heard, but he hid his smirk by dragging his teeth across his collarbone. “Going to give me a complex, sweet thing. All this big talk.”

Steve shook his head petulantly, reaching down to feel where he was being split open, squeezing around the base where it wasn’t even all the way in. “It’s so big, Eds. Like even if you weren’t so sweet and the hottest thing on two legs, I’d give it up just for this.”

“Oh, that’s very romantic, honey,” he huffed. Deciding he could talk too well while getting fucked, he pushed at his leg and pulled it over his shoulder, opening him wider and laughing as Steve cried out.

Able to push all the way in now, he got lost in the back and forth, gazing between Steve’s blissed out face and watching himself disappear into him.

“Can- oh! Can feel you in my throat. So deep, Eds. Gunna come.”

Eddie echoed Steve’s groan as his big hands came up to play with his own nipples, Eddie encircling his leaking cock and matching his thrusts.

Steve came hard between them, his gorgeous noises and the clenching around his dick sending Eddie over the edge right behind. Slumping down onto him as they tried to catch their breath, Eddie smirked into his skin when his legs wrapped around his hips.

“I’m not going anywhere, babygirl.”

Surprisingly none of their friends came to look for them, and eventually they had to face the music.

Robin rolled her eyes at them as they opened the sliding glass door to the backyard, and cried out when Steve rushed around to pool towards her.

“No running by the pool, dingus! You’d think you’d be more careful after your crazy embarrassing accident at state.”

Eddie frowned, his attention switching back to Steve as he groaned and went to cover Robin’s mouth. But the secret had already been spilled.

“But I guess Eddie could just cover up more scars,” she giggled, narrowly avoiding Steve’s flailing arms to smirk over at Eddie.

Finally clicking all the pieces together, he found his voice. “You told me it was a motorcycle accident!”

#steddie #steddie summer exchange #steddie smut #tattoo artist Eddie #dom eddie munson #mine #stranger things fic #exchange fic

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khaylin27 · 3 hours

Text

The Tortured Poets Department

pairing: george russell x wolff! reader

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: y/n wolff falls in love with george russell, her father's other mercedes driver.

warnings: none

author's note: sorry for not posting for a week 😭 school has been stressing me out and my family. im glad im back to put my creative mind to use.

You left your typewriter at my apartment Straight from the tortured poets department I think some things I never say Like, "Who uses typewriters anyway?"

You were cleaning your Monaco apartment one day when you notice the typewriter that George owned. He left his typewriter at your apartment.

Every time George would come to your apartment to spend time with her in secret, he would always bring his typewriter. George would always joke about him looking like a poet coming from the tortured department from Mercedes.

Since Lewis was leaving Mercedes at the end of the season, your father has been pressuring George to perform better than Lewis. You knew how much stress George was going through so to relive the stress he would hang out with you and use his typewriter.

You stop cleaning to take a photo of the typewriter to send to George.

y/n wolff you left your typewriter you tortured poet

george I left it so I have an excuse to see you again 😉

You blush at George's response. There's things that you think of that you would never say to George. Like, "who uses typewriters anyway?" But you knew it was an escape for him.

But you're in self-sabotage mode Throwing spikes down on the road But I've seen this episode and still loved the show Who else decodes you?

It was the Australian Grand Prix, George was in self-sabotage mode because he got into a crash before the race ended. "Georgie, you're okay that's all that matters." You say to George before he starts throwing more spikes down the road.

"It's not okay Y/N. Your dad is probably so pissed that Lewis and I both didn't finish the race." George says as he walks back in forth in the room.

You stop him mid way and give him a hug. "We'll worry about that later." Your hand gently goes up and down his spine. You've seen the way he always stresses out about your dad. So you always relax him by moving your hands up and down his spine. Who else decodes him like you do?

And who's gonna hold you like me? And who's gonna know you, if not me?

"I love the way you hold me like this." George says as he calms down from his anxiety attack. "You know me so well."

"Who's gonna hold you like me? My little brother?" You both laugh about the comment about your brother. "And who's going know you, if not me?" You smile at him before he leaves to finish his race interviews.

I laughed in your face and said "You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots" And who's gonna hold you like me? Nobody

f1news THE NEW TOTO AND SUSIE WOLFF: Y/N Wolff was seen with her father's Mercedes driver, George Russell, out at the Monte-Carlo Masters this weekend. Are they the new Toto and Susie Wolff of Gen Z?

user1 THEY DEFINITELY GIVE OLD MONEY

user2 mama y papa 😍 mom and dad

user3 they are toto and susie (gen z version)

****

"George," You look around your apartment to see where George was. You find him in your office writing on his typewriter.

"What is it Darling?" George asks as he takes off his old man glasses.

"Look at what the media is calling us." You pass him your phone and show him the post f1news posted about you two on instagram. You laugh once George finishes reading the caption. "The caption is too funny! They're comparing us to my parents."

"I'm not Toto though," George says. "And you're not Susie either."

You give him a kiss on the cheek, "This isn't Mercedes, we're just modern idiots." George smiles back at you while you hold him.

"Who's going to hold me like you do?" he asks.

"Nobody."

You smoked, then ate seven bars of chocolate We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist I scratch your head, you fall asleep Like a tattooed golden retriever

George lights up a candle and grabs chocolate from the fridge after you two clean the apartment. Charlie Puth was playing in the background while you two were cuddling on the couch eating seven bars of chocolate.

"Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist." George says after eating his chocolate bar.

"I agree. He has so many hits yet he's not even big!" You say putting the leftover chocolate back in the fridge. After you wash the chocolate off your hands, you cuddle with George again.

Charlie Puth was still playing while you scratched George's head. A couple minutes later, George was asleep like a tattooed golden retriever.

But you awaken with dread Pounding nails in your head But I've read this one where you come undone I chose this cyclone with you

A couple hours after you both fall asleep on the couch, George wakes up from a nightmare. You wake up from the movement that George made, you realized he had a nightmare. "George, you're okay." You rub his back to try and calm him down.

After a while, George is ready to open up about his nightmare. “I spend so much of my life being scared, wanting to please everyone around me. I had a nightmare about everything I've built go away in an instance.” George never really got this deep into his feelings, but that night he became undone.

"I understand what you're saying. I've always felt that way too with spending so much time in the media. I'm scared that whatever I say to them will make a bad impression on my parents. I've always people pleased everyone." You place your hands gently around his neck and say, "I chose this cyclone with you. We'll get through this together."

Sometimes, I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen

The Mercedes team had some press to do in New York before the Miami Grand Prix. Lewis, George, and your dad were unveiling the new Mercedes car emoji on WhatsApp on the Empire State Building and you decided to tag along.

After the emoji was unveiled, George and your dad were talking to investors while you were talking with Lewis. "How are you and George?" Lewis asked you as you were taking a sip of your drink.

"We're doing okay. We have problems like every couple days. Sometimes, I wonder if he's gonna screw this up with me. He's been through a lot of stress this season." You tell Lewis. "Maybe I'm self sabotaging but I told this to my mom, so I felt seen."

"George talked to me earlier about what he's been going through this season." You both look at George as he's having fun dancing with some investors. "He's glad to have you by his side. he told me he'd kill himself if you ever left."

You were shocked by Lewis' words. Sure George was you boyfriend but you never thought his feelings for you were this strong.

Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be 'Cause we're crazy So tell me, who else is gonna know me?

"You and George are meant to be." Lewis says smiling. "You guys both drive me crazy." Lewis says sarcastically while you laugh. George leaves the dance floor and heads to you.

"You're ready for our date?" George asks while wrapping his arms around your waist. You nod yes and he takes your hand. You both say your goodbyes to everyone and head to the Empire State Building lobby.

"You ready for our pizza date?" George asks.

"You know me so well." You smile before George asks.

"So tell me, who else is gonna know you like me?"

"Nobody." You both smile before he drives to your favorite pizza place.

At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger And put it on the one people put wedding rings on And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding

George had emptied your favorite pizza spot in New York (with the help of your dad of course). Your favorite slices of pizza were ready to eat as soon as you arrived at the location. As you guys eat your slices of pizza, George cleans his face before starting to talk .

"Y/N, Darling. You're the love of my life. I love everything about you and that you're always by my side through thick and thin. You helped me overcome certain obstacles in my life. I wouldn't be who I am today without you." George kneels down and takes the ring out to propose to you. "Y/N will you marry me?"

"It feels like my heart is exploding!" Y/N says before cleaning herself up. "Yes! I'll marry you!" George smiles before kissing you. He then puts the engagement ring on your finger.

yourusername and you're not toto wolff, i'm not susie wolff this ain't the mercedes, we're two idiots and who's gonna hold you like me? 💍🍕

tagged georgerussell63

georgerussell63 nobody darling ✨

lewishamilton you guys drive me crazy but congrats 🥂

yourusername we have to keep your last season in mercedes wild before you leave 🤪

mercedesamgf1 is this f-ing play about us?

user1 MERC ADMIN WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? yourusername i bet my dad was the one who told admin to write this. susie_wolff yes, he did mercedesamgf1 YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL HER user1 i love the merc-wolff family 🖤

user2 dang their cars aren't the only thing fast in their life. first oscar getting married now george!!

taylorswift you guys are too cute! congrats!! 🩶

yourusername thank you tay 🥹✨ user3 mother just loves the f1 wags!!

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

#f1 #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #lewis hamilton x reader #mercedes #mercedes amg petronas #george russell x reader #george russell #lewis hamilton #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #susie wolff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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ljubitelj-sonca · 1 hour

Text

How to find your way around Joblr!

Hello! This is your first time on Joblr and you're wondering how this works? So relatable, been there, this website can be confusing!

But do not fret. We're happy to have you here and want you to have a good time.

So here's a guide on how to exist on Tumblr dot com and how to have a good time being a fan of Joker Out on this website.

Collectively written by the Joblr Discord Server.

Here you'll find:

what you are getting yourself into

a step by step guide on how this website works

spoken and unspoken rules of RPF on tumblr

First of all, what are you getting yourself into?

Pros:

So many talented artists, writers, editors, gif makers, meme makers, it's actually wild! And they all do this for free!!

Long rant posts with detailed analyses on whatever new photos Damon has taken of the guys

Pics, Gifs, vids and clips of gigs, interviews and their social media, also often throwbacks (with sources/credits if the original posters didn't take them themselves)

So many lovely and unhinged thoughts people leave in the tags when reblogging your posts (more on how that works later) so you see direct reactions to what you've made

A very chill environment with virtually no drama or arguments (and we really mean that <3), the only thing we're feral about are the guys

Cons (or something):

The "what is Kris's hair colour?" discourse pops up every couple months

So many polls (but are we really complaining about that?)

You're intrigued! Nice! How does all this work then?

Step 1 - your blog:

Create your blog and customize it.

Unfortunately Tumblr is dealing with a lot of bots that look exactly like new blogs. So if you keep your profile picture and header as the default one, blogs you follow might think you're a bot and block you. TO PREVENT THAT: change your profile pic and header to something you like and maybe add something in your description, even if it's just "Hi, I'm just here to lurk, do not perceive me".

That shows other blogs that you're a real person and they'll enjoy having you as a follower.

Step 2 - general tags:

Take a look at some tags you enjoy.

Tumblr is all about tagging, which is essentially nothing other than a hashtag, but they're only at the very bottom of a post, in a separate little section. (Writing "#joker out" in the middle of your post does absolutely nothing, but if you use the tag "joker out" in the tags section, your post will appear in the "#joker out" tag on tumblr)

For example, we have tags for each of the boys, as well as a general "joker out" of course. But there are also tags for ships (more on ships later!). Find some you're interested in and take a peep inside.

(You can also follow tags to find them easier again later.)

Step 3 - reblogging (and more tags):

See a post you like? Reblog it!

Reblogging is just about the best thing about tumblr, it's truly the easiest and quickest way to connect with other blogs.

A reblog is a little bit like a retweet on Twitter, it is not a repost! You are taking a copy of the post and slapping it onto your blog, kinda like a scrap book. But the fun thing: you can leave your thoughts!

Here's where tags come back into play: they're not only to file your posts and to have them appear in tags, they're the place to leave any little comments you might have.

For example: you see a post with a gif of Kris at a gig, he's wearing an outfit you like and fun sunglasses. So you click on the little reblog button. At the very bottom of the post, you have the gray bubble with the tag "#add tags to help people find your post" (or whatever it corresponds to in your language) (or just "add tags" on mobile). Click it, and write what you think.

#Kris i missed you!! #he looks so good in that jacket #and also thank you to whoever gave him those sunglasses #<3333 #Kris Guštin #joker out

Then when you reblog the post, it will appear on your blog with those tags at the bottom. The tags you leave on a post will only be on your blog. Someone in turn can reblog the post from your blog and leave their own tags.

The original poster (short: op) will see all the tags people leave on their post in their activity and other people can see them when they click on "notes". It's so much fun to click through what people leave in the tags, be it your own post or someone else's.

Of course you don't have to reblog posts, the like button is there too. But reblogs are the only way posts are spread throughout the fandom, as there is no proper algorithm (which we're all very glad about!!!), and they're the way for you to personalise your blog. So reblog liberally! It's how this website thrives!

Step 4 - following blogs:

Follow blogs you enjoy!

In order for posts to appear on your feed (your timeline), you have to follow blogs, that makes sense. So when you find a blog whose posts (or art or writing or whatever they blog about) you like, give them a follow.

Now, on other websites it might be seen as creepy to spamlike someone's account. Here it's like the biggest compliment ever to go through someone's blog and like and reblog a lot of their posts (especially if you leave your thoughts in the tags). It is absolutely flattering!

Step 5 - making posts:

Make posts if you want.

It's totally fine to just exist on this website and to like and reblog stuff, there is absolutely no pressure. But posting is fun!

You made some art? You took a photo or video at a concert? You have a question about something or just a cursed thought? We'd love to see it! Slap it into a post and share it with the Joker Out world.

Add tags about the people involved so others can find it, a little "#my art/video/pic" so we know you made/took it yourself, and even share some behind the scenes thoughts in the tags if you want.

Tags for a drawing can look like this for example:

#this took me so long #but I'm really proud of how it turned out!! #the shading was a struggle but oh welk #*well #tried a new brush #jure maček #my art #joker out

And then others can like and reblog your post with their own thoughts.

Keep in mind: do not (re)post someone else's art/Gifs/writing without their explicit consent! If you do (with their consent), credit them (you can add links to text by highlighting the text and clicking on the little link symbol, then copying the link into the bar. It looks like this.) (Here is a handy guide on how to repost Gifs on Tumblr while giving proper credit at the same time.) Same goes for sharing photos the band, their photographers or their friends have posted on social media: give credit when needed.

There has been a serious issue with people stealing Gifs off of Tumblr and posting them on Twitter without consent or credit. That is not okay! People spend a lot of time and effort making them, having them get stolen like that is incredibly frustrating!

Step 6 - making friends:

Interact with other people.

Now, we totally get that this is scary. But think about this: everyone else on this website, in this fandom, is just some guy (gender neutral). We're all wimps giggling, kicking our feet at five slovenian men and their music. Honestly, there's nothing scary about us, even if it might feel like it.

But we love making friends! And that doesn't necessarily entail sliding into some DMs to talk to people (but you can do that, most blogs are super okay with that), there are many ways to interact with others on this website.

The tags are one way of course, for your own thoughts or to respond to something OP has mentioned in their post. Making posts and polls and asking people to interact with you is another way, then you can see their thoughts in the tags, how fun is that!

Another way is asks, which is a special bonus feature on Tumblr. When you're on someone's blog, some have a little bubble below their description with "ask me anything" or something along that inside (unless they have turned off the feature). Click that, and you can ask them a question which they can then respond to publicly (or privately) in a post.

People use this feature for writing or art prompts, ask games, birthday wishes, or just to ask random questions or share thoughts. You can even send anonymous asks if you're too shy (some people take advantage of that to send anonymous hate. Do not be one of those people!). But it's always nice to have a face behind the ask.

Keep in mind, not all artists/writers are open for prompts or requests. Some state it somewhere on their blog if they are or aren't, some reblog lists with prompts and explicitly ask for them. If you're unsure, send them an ask or a DM and ask about it.

Then there are also Discord servers of course. There are a couple different ones floating around. If you're interested in the Joblr one for example, feel free to send me a DM! :D

Step 7 - ignoring and blocking:

Saw something you don't like? No stress, just ignore it.

It's as easy as that. The best way to have a good time in fandom, is to focus on what you enjoy. So when someone makes a post you don't like or has a take you disagree with, just scroll past it.

If you feel like the blog and its posts you don't like keep appearing, block them. For real, the block button is your friend. And no one is going to be mad at you, promise.

Arguing on the internet is not fun for anyone involved (you, the person who made the post, everyone who sees your argument), especially when it's about personal opinions (that includes interpretations, ships, even kinks). So it's best to just. not.

There’s also the option to blacklist/filter tags, if you don’t like a specific ship for example, but it’s also really helpful for triggers you’d rather not see! On desktop, you do so by clicking “Settings” and then scrolling down until you see “Content you see”. There under “Filtered Tags” you can add tags you’d rather avoid, and under “Filtered Post Content” you can do the same with, well, post content. On mobile, you go to your blog and click the settings icon, then “Account Settings”, then “Content You See”. There you’ll find “Filtered Tags” and “Filtered Post Content”.

This way, posts that are tagged with the filtered tag or include the filtered word will be blocked with the message “This post contains filtered tags/content”. There’s also a button to view the post anyways, but you do so at your own risk of course! There’s content you’d rather not see behind it!

(Of course, if you see someone being bigoted, being particularly hateful or spreading misinformation, that's a different thing! It's totally fine to defend or correct someone. In most cases, the comment section or even DMs is the best place for that, to keep it about the people involved. Making posts about it, will let it get out of hand and is rarely necessary, unless it's really important.)

Spoken and unspoken rules of RPF (real people fandom) on Tumblr (and by extension: AO3)

(In no particular order)

1. They're real people.

Joker Out's members (and their friends) are real people we know virtually nothing about. We know that we know virtually nothing about them. And we are totally okay with this.

The people we post about, write fics about, draw are fictionalised versions of the real people (maybe with the exception of when we post pics/vids we've taken or share what they've shared on social media). Most of it is made up, because again, we don't know them. And in no way shape or form is anything we write/post/draw speculation about what they might be like in real life. We know this and are okay with this and that's exactly what makes RPF fun.

This way we can just make shit up! Wanna draw them in skirts? Give them random jobs? Trans their genders? Think about different dynamics? All of that is fair game, because it's all made up.

So when we call Kris a princess and Jan a babygirl, we are not reducing them to that or think that they're only like this in real life. In the next sentence, we might call Jan a hunky dude, and both are correct.

Same goes for ships. Ships like Jan x Nace, or Kris x Damon stem from the interactions the real people share with us, but in the end, anything we make of it is entirely made up and doesn't represent the real people at all. Be it an AU or something that could've happened during an event that really happened.

You'll often find disclamers like this (much shorter versions tho) in the beginning notes of fics.

2. Keep fandom in fandom spaces.

Fandom is not a secret, the guys are probably well aware of what's happening on social media in their fandom spaces (though probably no specifics). So far they have not expressed any discomfort with any of it, even encouraged it in some way or another.

If that ever changes, if they ever do say that they are uncomfortable with what is written about them, we will respect that and refrain from doing so. Their comfort comes first.

Still, we don't want them to accidentally stumble across something they haven't been actively searching for, so we keep it on Tumblr and AO3, where it's unlikely they'll just randomly find it.

So please refrain from sharing art/fics on sites like Twitter or Instagram, which we know they frequent, if the artists don't post them there themselves.

3. Don’t like? Don’t read.

This rule goes for basically everything on the internet and corresponds with Step 7 - Ignoring and blocking, but it’s helpful to repeat it here again.

You might enjoy being in a real people fandom differently than others. Maybe you don’t like reading fics about the people involved, or don’t like some interpretations others have of them. That is totally okay! Everyone enjoys different things.

But if you don’t like something, simply don’t read it - or scroll past it, or block the blog, or filter the tag, you get the gist. Receiving comments like, “this is so weird, why does this exist? Why are people like this?” is incredibly hurtful and will gain the commenter absolutely nothing (apart from others thinking they’re a super shitty person), so don’t leave them. Just go on with your day.

Tldr: Be respectful, be mindful, be creative, be open, and if need be, take a step back. That’s really all it takes.

Alrighty! Now you know a whole lot more about how Tumblr works and how we're existing in the fandom here.

We hope you're staying for longer than just to lurk about what it's like here, and that you're having a good time. We’re looking forward to going feral about Joker Out with you!

If you have any questions, the comment section is a good place to leave them, there others can find them and the answers as well. Or feel free to try out the ask button on my blog <3

#thanks to the lovely people in the Joblr discord for helping with this #we're genuinely having the time of our lives here #and we know and want you to have the same fun #joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #kris guštin #jan peteh #jure maček #nace jordan #joblr

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