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dollria · 6 months

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RiA CAN'T STOP THINKIN BOUT. . .

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ BIG!CHOSO WITH A BIIIG!COCK

꒰ CONTENT — ! ꒱ p in v sex、size kiiink [?]、missionary、choso is gentlee、belly bulging、clit rubbing、he cums on ur stomach、breeding mentioned?、choso [and his cock] are soo big like omg. . .

꒰ WORDCOUNT — ! ꒱ 906

choso is very self aware of his own strength and size— not only feeling like, but knowing you'd break if he handled you like anything less fragile than a porcelain doll.

but no matter how slow or gentle he was with you— he never fails to knock the wind straight out of your lungs when he sinks in, drawing the sweetest whines from your pouty lips.

and that's about all you’re able to do when you're being stuffed full of his absolutely heavy cock— just whine. whine to him about how "'s so big. ." and how he's "so deep. ." when he's not even all the way in yet.

sniffling softly as you claw and paw at his biceps— clinging onto the flexing muscles as they hold your shaky thighs apart, your knuckles turning pale from how hard you were squeezing him— with both your hands and your pussy.

"shh," he soothes, bringing one huge palm down to your belly, gently pressing down on the bulge his cock was creating, "i know baby, 'm sorry. ."

"try keeping your legs open, princess," he rasps when he sees you struggling to do so without him holding onto both of them. he smiles gently when he sees you trying so hard to open your legs for him, letting him be even closer, reach even deeper.

the sheer power behind his slow thrusts had you pressed into the mattress— your tits bouncing and the flesh of your thighs rippling when they were being smacked by his pelvis.

"good girl. ."

his eyes leave your face for just a minute, he just really couldn’t help it. not when your pussy looked so cute— sucking him in, lips clinging to his fat shaft and refusing to let go when he bottoms out, never failing to cave back in each time he thrusts back into you.

"d-don't stop, chosoo. ."

and he never does— he never stops filling out the emptiness in your cunt, stretching you out, stuffing you full, massaging your inner walls and prodding at your innermost parts with his bulbous tip.

it had your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast. . .

you gawk in disbelief at the fat bulge that his cock would leave behind in your lower tummy, bulging it out right where the heat just kept pooling and pooling—

"chosoo. . 's so deep choso. . !" you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as your head flops back against the sheets.

"i know, baby. . i know." he cooes, before giving your hand yet another affectionate squeeze, the movements of his hips never faltering, "takin' me so— shit. . so well."

it was all so much— so dizzying, each stroke of his fat shaft had your mouth struggling to stay shut and the knot in your abdomen tightening, threatening to burst.

you hit and grab at his shoulders, legs spasming and wrapping around his waist. your heels digging into the dimples on his lower back in a pathetic attempt to draw him even closer—

your pussy was telling him the exact same thing, sucking him in, fluttering and squeezing around his dick as he bullies it into you.

he tries not to— but it’s really nothing short of bullying how he splits you open on his cock, no matter how gentle he may try to be.

"m-more, choso. ! think 'm gonna cum. . !"

you just keep on babbling, losing yourself in the mind numbing feeling of his cock inside you— thrusting steadily, the rhythmic smacking of his hips and the squelching of your slick playing on the background of your lewd moans and his heavy breaths.

the hand resting on your belly bulge slips slower, coming to rub circles over your clit— you whimper and your back arches, the tight grip your cunt had on him making choso grunt.

"s-shit pretty if y'keep squeezin' me like that—" he huffs, interrupting himself with a low groan— he was almost losing his mind as much as you were.

your arms wrap around his neck, his waist entangled by your legs and you cling to him tighter and tighter, moaning more and more incoherently sounding babbles into his ear as he slams his hips into you.

he keeps pounding and pounding— his thrusts turning sloppy as he mutters praises and grunts into your ear— and then you finally cum. squeezing and milking his cock dry of everything he has with a series of sweet moans and sobs—

it takes choso everything he has, every little bit of restraint not to just breed your little pussy full of his cum— his poor balls are so full n’ heavy, it’s a shame he doesn’t get to pump you full of everything he can give— truly a shame.

"f-fuck angel. ."

he pulls out, biting back a soft whimper as he grabs ahold of his cock, the other hand soothing your waist, cupping your ribs, right under your breast as he grunts and huffs, stroking his length as he takes in the sight of you beneath him— post orgasmic aftershocks surging through you as your chest heaves up and down, eyes hooded and glazed over.

it doesn’t take much for him to cum to that, spilling his seed over you in thick white ropes, painting creamy white streaks on your tummy with a long groan of your name.

"ch-choso—" you try to say, but he interrupts you, his lips next to your ear, warm breath hitting the shell of it as he whispers,

"can we go again baby? p-please?"

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ dollria #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ria can't stop thinkin' bout. . .#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso #choso x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #jujutsu kaisen choso

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riality-check · 8 months

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The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.

"You're not going."

"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"

"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."

"Steve-"

"And if you throw up in my car-"

"Oh my God-"

"I'll kill you."

Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.

"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.

He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.

"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.

"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.

"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.

He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.

(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)

"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.

"You baited me into it."

"I did no such thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"

Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."

"Sorry dude."

"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."

Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.

"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"

"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."

"All I'm saying-"

"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."

Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.

"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.

"Five more minutes," Anna tries.

"Nope. Clean up and roll out."

"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.

"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"

Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"

"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.

"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."

Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.

Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.

Success by all metrics, really.

Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.

They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.

He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.

The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.

At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:

Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.

-Eddie

Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-

Hang on.

He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-

No way. No way in hell.

It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-

"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.

Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.

Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.

"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."

Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.

"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."

Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.

"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"

Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.

"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."

At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.

Because what the fuck is happening right now?

His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.

Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.

Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.

When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.

"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.

"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.

The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.

And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.

Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.

Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.

Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.

He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.

Sweet Jesus.

"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"

The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.

Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.

Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"

"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"

"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.

"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."

"How do you even-"

"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"

Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.

"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."

"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."

"Well, I have it now."

"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.

"He left me his number on the seat."

"Text him."

"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."

Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Have you looked at him?"

"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."

"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."

"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.

"Text-"

Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"

"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.

"I bought them."

She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."

Steve stares. She stares right back.

He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.

With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:

I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.

Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?

Part 3!!

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a0926222178 · 4 months

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#山手梨愛 #ria yamate

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shellshooked · 5 months

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evening stroll

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mangohcake · 8 months

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I love NijiEN!!!

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shinypenguincoffee · 4 months

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#Ria Yamate

#ria yamate

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siebedraws · 6 months

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This is Ria. She is a smug fonx.

She is @nephrited's character

#ria #Ria-ku #furry #furry art #anthro #drawtober2023 #drawtober2023week4 #my art #not my oc #nephrited #coloured sketch example 2023

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doobidie · 7 months

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Sat & Ria

#art #oc #pencil #character design #Sat & Ria #dog

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classicfilmsource · 3 months

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Marpessa Dawn & Breno Mello in Black Orpheus (1959) dir. Marcel Camus

#black orpheus #filmedit #classicfilmedit #worldcinemaedit #classicfilmblr #filmgifs #moviegifs #romanceedit #doyouevenfilm #fyeahmovies #dailyflicks #userfilm #1950s #ours #gifs #by ria

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ellmeria · 2 months

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Quick Astro Notes 🍄

— The following are just a few things I've noticed about certain placements (mostly sun). These are mainly based on my experience and observations!

I will always trust a Libra's judgment. I know they can be indecisive, but that's because they see both sides of the matter. They weigh all the pros and cons of things (they're about balance), so when they finally come to a decision, you know it's for the best.

A Taurus Venus can be obsessed with jewelry. They may not be a fan of buying costume jewelry because they care about quality and longevity. They're the type of people who inspect every nook and cranny of an item before buying it to ensure it is worth their money. They also tend to reward themselves every once in a while and encourage others to do the same!

A lot of Virgos I know have such a way with words. I love reading notes/messages from them because they are usually well-written and full of substance.

People with Mercury in Aries are never stupid. I know that sometimes they can be loud, and confrontational and hot-headed, a bit insensitive. I get it. I somehow agree based on experience. But stupid? Nope. These people are fast learners, have amazing wit/humor, can explain even the most complicated topics with conciseness and brevity, and are just so quick and good with comebacks. Their brain (and mouth) works so fast that it becomes a double-edged sword.

Leos are magnificient. I have never seen one who's lacking in the appeal department. They know how to dress and carry themselves. I also love their eyes! It's piercing and gives very similar vibes to their animal representation (lion).

I think the 3rd House may also indicate how a person walk. This is because 3rd House rules short travels, and usually, we travel short distances on foot.

Ex: Aquarius risings may walk so fast due to Aries in their 3rd house. On the other hand, those who have Venus/Taurus in their 3rd house may walk slowly.

Capricorn placements are so attractive when they're in their leader mode. They take leadership positions so seriously that even though someone with this placement doesn't have prior experience with it, they still manage to get things done (and do well!). I noticed this with all the cardinal signs, but most commonly with Capricorns.

Cardinal (Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn) and fire signs (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) always take the initiative. That one classmate who often starts the conversation about the group activity and instigates the planning? I bet they have these signs in their chart.

Every Sagittarius needs a travel buddy, AKA their Gemini friend. They have food to try and places to be.

I have never met a Pisces who does not know how to crochet or is not interested in learning the skill. They really are so creative with their hands and have an eye for beauty!

Most Sagittariuses I know have a healthy work-life balance. They know how to let loose and have fun while maintaining their 0 missed deadlines status. I am listening and taking notes.

People with many planets in the 1st House can be more assertive, have 'louder' verbal and nonverbal expressions (gestures, tones, etc.), and expressing themselves comes naturally to them. Meanwhile, those with planets in the 12th House may be more docile with their approach and have more tamed gestures and expressions.

Pictures were taken from Pinterest. Credit to the rightful owner/s.

♡ 𝓡𝓲𝓪

#🌿: astro ria #astrology #astrology observations #astrology notes #astro observations #astro notes #astrology posts #astrology blog #astro thoughts #astroblr

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riality-check · 8 months

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Steve, realistically, shouldn’t even be at this show. He doesn’t care about the band, he didn’t want to make the drive, and he had to bring Anna along because he couldn’t find a babysitter.

But he was going to suck it up to go with Dustin, who immediately bought tickets to see his favorite band when they went on sale. Who called Steve this morning to inform him, somehow both solemnly and frantically, that he had the worst food poisoning known to man, and, that until he stopped puking and shitting at the same time, he could not leave the bathroom.

Steve very much did not need to know that.

With Dustin went the rest of the Babysitters’ Club, all of them having eaten the same shady pizza and suffering the consequences. The only exception was Mike, lactose intolerant but cursed to take care of his idiot friends.

He texted Steve to ask if he had extra bleach. Steve dropped it outside the house because no way in hell was he entering that building.

Dustin assured him, amidst too much detail and shockingly disgusting background noise, that both tickets shouldn’t go to waste, and with no one able to babysit Anna, Steve should take advantage of both.

So, here he is. Standing in the first level - Dustin couldn’t get floor tickets, thank God - of a show for a metal band he has no intention of ever listening to and holding his four-year-old daughter, who has bright pink ear defenders looped around her neck in preparation for when it gets really, really loud.

“When are they starting?” she asks for the fourth time in as many minutes, with a sigh too big for her little body.

“In a few minutes,” Steve says, keeping an eye on the stage, where he watches the crew set up. Mad respect for them hustling so hard. He could never.

The seats are slowly filling up, and Steve feels a little sad for the first opener, a little sad that they don’t have a full house for their set.

A group of four guys takes the seats right next to Steve, with a pale, long-haired, big-eyed guy right next to him. He’s got tattoos on his arms and rings on all his fingers and a silver bar through his upper ear.

And he’s arguing emphatically with his friend next to him.

“I’m telling you, American Psycho is more recognizable!” he says, hands flying. Steve discreetly makes sure he and Anna aren’t within striking distance. “Not to mention cheaper!”

“A prop chainsaw,” his friend - a short white guy with shorter but equally wild hair - says, “can’t possibly be that hard to find by tomorrow.”

“We already have the axe!”

“I’m with Eddie,” the big white guy at the end of their group says. “I’m a sucker for American Psycho.”

“Okay, but I’m the guy who has to use the props,” the fourth friend, a Black guy with short braids who looks annoyed at this conversation, like they’ve had it before. “And I think I’d have more fun with the chainsaw.”

Eddie - the guy with long hair and heavy jewelry and hands with a mind of their own - rolls his eyes. It’s a full body movement, one that has him spinning to face Steve. When he does, his face cycles through a myriad of emotions too fast for Steve to really track.

“Hi, pretty boy,” he says. His eyes then dart down to Anna, who stares at him with her head cocked to the side. “Pretty dad. Dad. Pretty. Hi.”

“Eddie,” the short guy cautions.

“Yeah, sorry, anyway, can you be a tiebreaker for us?”

“Sure,” Steve says. Anna squirms, so he lets her out of his lap to stand, holding her hand all the while. “What do you need?”

“American Psycho or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?” the big guy asks.

“You gotta give him context.”

“No, I don’t, Jeff.”

The guy who said he’d be using the props - whatever that means - rolls his eyes and stops fighting.

“What’s American Psycho?” Anna asks, choosing the best time to pay attention to the conversation, like always.

“A movie you’re too young to see,” Steve says. “And the one I’m picking out of those two.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eddie says, using a tone that better fits Steve saving his drowning dog or something. He then turns to the rest of his friends and says, “I fucking told you!”

Anna gasps. “You’re not s’posed to say that!”

Jeff smothers a laugh behind his hands, while the other three guys stare at Anna, half confused, half admiring.

Eddie clears his throat, looking significantly abashed. "Sorry, Miss-"

"Anna," she says.

"Anna," Eddie finishes. Then he turns to Steve. "And you are?"

"Steve. No Mister for me though. I might be a dad, but I'm not that old."

"You are old, Daddy," Anna says.

Steve frowns down at her, where she stands at his feet. She's smiling, mischievous like she always is when she says something along these lines. "I'm not that old."

"Yeah you are! You're like, you're like, like, fifteen."

Jeff gives up on hiding his laughter.

"I'm older than fifteen," Steve says gently, trying not to laugh.

Anna’s jaw drops. “You are?”

“Thank God for that,” Eddie mutters, then shuts his jaw with an audible click.

Steve tried to come up with an answer for that, but someone comes on a mic and starts playing the drums, so he moves the defenders over Anna’s ears and pays attention to the show instead.

It's... fun, he guesses. Fun if he were into it, maybe. The first opener has a lot of energy, even if the music isn't melodic enough for Steve's taste. He finds himself tapping along to the steady beat, moving slightly in his seat to the music.

It's nice background noise. He'd put this on while he grades papers. It's steady enough to fill his head but doesn't have a whole lot of lyrics he could get distracted by and sing along to.

Eddie and his friends, meanwhile, are having the time of their lives. The short guy - Gareth, Steve thinks his name is - mimes the drum part of each song with startling accuracy. Archie jumps up and down, Jeff absolutely screams along, and Eddie-

Anna stares up at Eddie, eyes wide and jaw slacked as she watches him bang his head to the music.

Steve almost snaps a picture of it, this little moment, before the second song ends and Eddie snaps out of his zone.

He shakes the hair out of his face, then looks down at Anna, who's still staring at him. "What?"

She cocks her head to the side in a mirror of his. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The," she pauses, then starts shaking her head really hard, side to side. Steve puts a hand on her shoulder before she slams into the chairs in the row in front of them.

Eddie laughs. "The headbanging?"

"Yeah," Anna says, nodding.

"It's a way I move to the music," Eddie explains.

"Like dancing?"

"Sort of," Eddie says. "It's easier. I look stupid when I dance."

"You're not s'posed to say that," Anna tells him solemnly. "Right, Daddy?"

Steve meets Eddie's eyes. Even with the lights down, they're big and pretty and reflective, and Steve is going to kick himself so hard if he chickens out before he can get his number.

"Right," he says, still looking at Eddie. "We're not supposed to call ourselves stupid."

"Sorry," Eddie whispers.

"Don't be."

Anna tugs on Steve's hand, then Eddie's. "Teach me."

"Anna," Steve cautions.

"Can you please teach me?" she corrects.

Eddie glances down at Anna, then back up at Steve. "If it's-"

"Go ahead," Steve says because Eddie has more than passed the vibe check at this point.

Eddie crouches down as a new song starts up, and while Steve can't hear what he's telling her, he sees her smile, bright as day.

By the last song of the first opener, Anna is headbanging along with Eddie, off-beat in the say little kids always are but more than making up for it with effort.

Steve gives into the impulse to take a picture.

When the first opener finishes, Steve picks Anna back up and takes her ear defenders off.

"Woah," she says. "Can I keep them-"

"Nope," Steve says. "They stay on when the music is on. You heard it fine, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but you-"

"I have my earplugs in," Steve says, pointing at them.

"So do I," Eddie says, and when he moves his hair back, sure enough, there are black earplugs nestled in his ears.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to wear earplugs," Steve says.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy to come of a metal show," Eddie counters.

Anna climbs out of Steve's arms and onto his back, where she loops her arms around his shoulders and just hangs, like she does sometimes when she gets bored.

Weirdo kid, Steve thinks affectionately.

"That's because I'm not," Steve says. "I was supposed to come with a friend, but he got sick."

"Yikes," Eddie says. "You coming tomorrow, too?"

"I am," Steve says. "Are you?"

Eddie raises his eyebrows, like he didn't expect Steve to ask that. "Yeah, we'll be here. Not in these seats, though."

The lights go back down before Steve can ask what he means by that. He reaches behind him, scoops Anna back down on the ground, and puts her ear defenders on by the time the second opener strikes a scary-sounding opening chord.

Anna doesn't look scared at all. From the moment the music starts, she looks up at Eddie, and when he starts headbanging, she does, too.

Yup. Steve has effectively created a monster.

He contemplates, if Dustin is fine by tomorrow, skipping out on the show and giving his ticket to Anna, but that means not seeing Eddie again.

He really wants to see Eddie again, even if he won’t have the same seats.

Whatever that means.

Steve decides not to focus on that. He decides instead to focus on the moment. He listens to the music. He lets Anna take his hand and dance with it. He bops his head along with hers, but not too hard because he can’t risk aggravating his whiplash.

He enjoys the show, even if it’s not his cup of tea. It’s easy to enjoy the show, with Eddie next to him. It’s easy to enjoy his wild hair and pretty jewelry and big eyes and contagious enthusiasm.

It’s easy to see the way Eddie looks at him.

It’s also very easy, after the venue clears and Anna falls asleep in the car on the way home, to forget to ask for his number.

Shit.

(Part 2 is alive!!)

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #st ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #dilf steve harrington #corroded coffin #dilf and concert #d&c au

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